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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
PLACE OF MIRRORS
Isla had never wanted power more in her life. First, the barbs. Then, the assassination attempt at the harbor that was proof her blades meant little on Lightlark.
Theydidserve well as an outlet for the anger that roiled through her like a storm, though.
She had marched straight into the Starling shop after the assassination attempt and purchased her dagger. One with a curling snake around its hilt, fit for a Wildling. She held it now, cutting the air to pieces. The metal was weightless in her grip. She twirled it around her fingers, threw it up in the air, and caught it without having to look. Mimed stabbing someone right in the gut.
The Moonling nobles flashed in her mind, and she carved her blade through the air, throughthem.
Her lip curled. She stabbed them all, one by one, the men and the memories.
“Did the wind do something to offend you?”
Isla whirled in an instant, and her dagger flew—piercing the stone of the palace, right above Grim’s dark hair.
He grinned. With a fluid motion, he dug out her dagger and threw it back at her.
She caught it without her gaze ever leaving his.
Grim.Her stomach stumbled for a moment at the sight of him. Then, anger swelled. She glared at him. “I never thought the ruler of Nightshade would be so indecisive.”
“Indecisive?”
Isla took a long step toward him.“Indecisive.You can’t seem to make up your mind. One day, you act like we’re friends, and the next, strangers. You disappear for weeks.”
Grim did not shy away from her gaze. “Which would you prefer?” he asked, as though he truly wanted an answer. “Friends, or strangers?” She swallowed, begging her emotions to stay in check. “Neither,” she lied. “I just want you to stay away from me. Consistently.”
He stepped toward her. Grinned, just a little. “Is thattrulywhat you want, Hearteater?”
Her breath hitched. He felt her everything.
She turned away before he could feel any more.
Grim’s grin vanished. He suddenly became deathly serious. “We really should stay away from each other,” he said. “That is why you didn’t see me.”
So, hehadbeen avoiding her.
“Why?” she asked, though she could fill in a thousand answers.
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m the famed Nightshade warrior—thousands of kills on my blade. Everyone hates me. No one trusts me. For good reason. They shouldn’t.” He peered down at her. “Youshouldn’t.”
She wanted to ask what he meant. But before she could, he took a step closer. Her hair was wild around her face, and her shirt seemed too tight against her skin—she had changed into pants and a shirt to train. Even though her gowns were all designed for a fatal temptress, at this moment, these training clothes seemed far more revealing.
“You know what it’s like to be hated, don’t you, Hearteater? To be seen as a monster? A savage?”
It was true. Still, it hurt to hear the truth spoken.
“You’re feeling irritated, Hearteater. Do you deny what you are?”
She was breathing heavily. She didn’t even really know why. “No. Do you?”
Grim shook his head. He took a step toward her. “Never. I am the monster.”
Isla knew she should probably run away, or leave, or do something other than take a step even closer. He tilted his head. Something about the way he looked at her, the way he stood so close. Closer than anyone had ever dared.
