“Please.”A sob rips its way up my throat, an unstoppable force that threatens to tear me into pieces. If I give into it, I would be nothing more than tattered parchment. Every day they would tear off a piece of me until there was nothing left.
“Kill me,” I say, my voice raw, “but let Malachi go.”
I deserve to die for what I have done.
Malachi doesn’t.
“You are in no position to bargain or to plead for your lover.” Hector’s voice sends shards of pain straight through my chest.
He waves his hand, and the guard sheaths his dagger.
Finally, Hector is talking instead of allowing his cousin to do it for him. I let out a quick breath and shift to look at Hector. His attention remains riveted on that wall, as if he’s unwilling to meet my gaze.
“Malachi is innocent.”And he’s not my lover.
It would be pointless to say those words. Hector doesn’t believe me or trust me anymore.
“Innocent?” Hector scoffs. “He’s a Kyanite who deceived us.”
“He saved Alden’s life,” I say in a rush to make Hector understand. “That must mean something to you. To Alden.”
Surely, Hector cares that Malachi saved his uncle’s life.
“Alden isn’t here. I am.” A thunderstorm brews behind Hectors’ words, a threat that if I continue pleading for Malachi, he’ll make me pay.
But I cannot heed his silent warning.
“Then be benevolent. Be merciful. Don’t kill an innocent man.” I straighten my back and continue. “Malachi has nothing to do with my being here. I came alone. I am the one you want to punish. Not him.”
“If someone plucks out our eyes, we pluck out theirs,” Hector says, his voice as frightening as the sharp press of steel against my throat.
I speak through the pain throbbing deep inside me. “So, you’ll throw a knife at me?”
“No.” The fabric of Hector’s surcoat strains around his thick arms as he folds them. “I will throw one at your lover.”
“He’s not my lover,” I blurt out.
“Then what is he to you?”
“My friend.” My voice breaks on the last word.
From his prone position on the floor, Malachi looks at me and shakes his head.
“Gab…” I take a deep breath and start over. “Hector, don’t do this.”
Hector speaks, his tone flat, heart-breaking. “I need you to bring magic back to my people. I don’t need Malachi.”
Coldness splashes over me as if Hector picked me up and threw me in a frozen river. Down, down, down, I sink into oblivion.
But he won’t let me sink.
Instead, he wants to punish me by hurting my friend.
“So, you will murder him because of me?” Anger and sadness mingle in my chest. My breath. My bones.
Be merciful.
Be the man I married.
