“In control.” She laughed, the sound like a whip. “Neither of us have been in control. You killed four people in this room alone. Another on the way here. You would have kept going if I didn’t. You wouldn’t have stopped drinking, killing. Fucking.” Myrddin had sent her to mend Garin’s immense thirst, made worse by both of them consuming the mead—and there was only one way to do that while ensuring she’d become strong enough to fend him off. Another shot in the dark, and this one had stuck. Barely. “I did it to save us both.”
“You think you saved us?” He glared at her, disdainful, as if he hadn’t been on his knees, drooling for her just moments before. “By bonding yourself to me days before you take the crown? Marry?”
“Don’t act as if I haven't just done you a favor. I have only made myself more agreeable to your whims.”
Garin’s nostrils flared. “Mywhims?”
“This makes your task of ensuring I do as you please, much, much easier!”
“It has done more than that, Lilac.” His voice trembled. “It has changed everything.”
She had never seen him look more disgusted. With her. He was going to make her hyperventilate. She began to sputter and cough in the thickening smoke, but refused to back down. “Forgive me for not sparing you a worse fate.”
Garin laughed, low and dark. “There is no fate worse than being bound to you.”
His words rocked her. She couldn’t feel less connected to him, the way he regarded her with such hatred. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to get away from him.
She held her dress and glanced at the door, realization sinking in as she mapped the layout of the tavern in her mind. He was blocking the balcony exit, but she could escape into the crowd downstairs and leave with the rest, help usher them all out. Someone needed to knock on all the doors down the hall, too. The flames seemed to be contained to their room, though they were spreading slowly. There was time to alert everyone.
“You won’t make it far, will you?” Garin said, as if reading her mind. “Not with you being so newly bound to me.”
Her throat burned. “What about everyone here? Downstairs?”
“Not with medrippingdown your legs.” He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes against the flames dancing across his face. “Not with you as my thrall.”
She shuddered, bracing herself against the threat of his words. “This was our first instance of a deep feeding and blood revival,” she said, quoting what he’d told her in the carriage. “Even with our blood exchange at the inn, we’d then be connected at the first or second-level at best. It’ll be fine, w-we’ll stay separated and… I’m going to alert?—”
Garin was laughing. “Put your dress on.”
Lilac nearly lost her balance when her arms and legs moved instantly; the next thing she knew, she was bending, stepping into her bloodied dress.It was the same tug at her navel—the same convincing force that had walked her up the stairs and to the right room, had her knocking upon his door. The same force that eased her from the castle and had guided her to Garin, but stronger. Much, much stronger.
Lilac glanced over her shoulder at him while her body obeyed, feeling like she could fight it. But she was too stunned to focus on it properly. Shaking, her fingers fumbled with the material as she tried to resist, her muscles aching to pull the sleeves on.
Garin took a step toward her, disbelief marring his anger.
“Stay away from me,” she ground out, hardly able to speak as the smoke filled her lungs. Unlike before, ithurtto fight his command. Her biceps cramped, the force knocking the wind out of her as she strained.
Her eyes burned, moisture flooding them as they stung in the soot and heat. She tried not to think about the pile of bodies and pungent burning flesh.
“Lilac,” he said sternly, withholding whatever other command was at the tip of his tongue. “What will you do? Escape this room unclothed?” He extended a hand. “I’ll help you.” Despite his offer, he looked as though it pained him to even address her.
“I don’t need your help.” It was harder to breathe now; she coughed into her arm, trembling under the immense power that controlled her. “Don’t come any closer, Garin, or I will throw myself into the flames.”
“Come.”
Her body obeyed, legs first, pivoting her hips toward him and lurching her into his arms. Garin caught her. She steadied herself against his chest, and before she could push off—or stab him again, as she considered—his arms coiled around her. The moment their bare skin touched, warmth flooded through her and the trembling ceased. He breathed against her, cradling her head to his chest, and soon, her breaths slowed to match his despite her fury.
Then, he stepped back. “Stay still and allow me to help you,” he said softly, and all the fight left her body.
She watched silently as he helped her into both sleeves, made quick work of the lace at her front, and then dropped to his knees before her. The smoke was nearly blinding her now. Lilac held her breath as he gently hooked the lone garter strap onto her foot and slid it up her thigh, hatingthe way he took his time despite the walls climbing in flame around them. The smell of burning flesh singed her throat when her chest felt like it would explode and she was forced to inhale; she moved to sidestep him, blinking against the tears, driven by the need to breathe clean air.
Garin clicked his tongue. “Not yet.”
“Please.” She would choke on her own breath, but her feet remained firmly planted on the ground as she strained. “You ass.”
“Don’t move.” He reached back, procured her dagger from his pocket and slid it into its sheath beneath her skirts, his fingers scrupulously brushing her inner thigh. “You will not be without protection, useless or no.”
He straightened, their mouths barely brushing on his way up before he loomed over her. His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping at the tear-streaked blood and soot staining her face. Lungs aching, Lilac launched into a coughing fit again. She released a single broken sob as he waited patiently for her to finish.
