He kissed her again. This time, her stomach tightened with desire and a soft, hungry sound escaped her throat.
No.
She pressed her palms against his chest and shoved. The force sent him backwards, wincing. She stared at him, wideeyed and breathless, a reckless need taking root in her.
“My parents are monsters.”
“That doesn’t make you one.”
Before he could kiss her again, before she could give in to her urges and take what she wanted from him, Emeline stepped back.
“Go inside,” she told him. He didn’t budge. Could she use her voice tocompelhim? She winced at that horrible thought.
But how else could she protect him?
She thought of their first meeting, when he’d lied to her. He’d tried his hardest to stop her from reaching the city and confronting his king, knowing what would happen if she did.
Knowing the danger it would put her in.
Lie to him.
“Don’t you get it? All I want is to escape before the king adds my skull to his growing collection.”
He paused, hesitating.
“I’m leaving, Hawthorne. Right now. Tonight.” She forged her voice into something hard and unyielding. “I don’t wantthis.I don’t wantyou.”
If she stopped now, he might see through the cracks in her words. So she kept going.
“I want my singing career. I want myreal life.I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. You think I’d throw that away? Forthisnightmare? Foryou?” She shook her head. “I barely know you.”
Hawthorne looked away abruptly.
“Of course not. I would never …” He ran his hands through his hair. “I would never ask that of you. Of course you should leave.”
He stepped sharply back.
“You deserve to have all your heart’s longings.” The words lacked any bitterness. As if he truly wanted that for her:happiness,or something like it. As if he’d already resigned himself, long before now, to her walking away. “Here. Take this.” He tugged something off his hand. Stepping towards her, he reached for her wrist and slid a ring onto her finger. “It will get you safely home. Think of where you want to be, and it will bring you there.”
The ring was white and thin and, like a tithe marker, unnaturally cold. It made her skin tingle where it touched.
It reminded her of something Aspen once said.
You’re the tithe collector. You can walk deep into her world whenever and wherever you want.
Was this how he did it—using an enchanted ring?
Without another word, Hawthorne turned away and walked towards the house. As if he’d always known exactly how this story would end.
Wait,she thought, watching him leave.I didn’t mean it.
Heat rushed against her shoulder as Lament snorted, startling her. The mare had left her stall and now stood next to Emeline. The night wrapped cold fingers around both of them, but there was something far colder inside Emeline. A sliver of ice, lodged in her heart. She leaned her cheek against Lament’s, and when that didn’t warm her, looped her arms around the horse’s neck.
They hadn’t even said goodbye.
THIRTY-FOUR
AFTER PACING THE STABLEfor a good ten minutes, trying and failing to talk herself out of what she intended to do next, Emeline followed Hawthorne into the house.
