“You both are traitors.” His words came out snappish, harsh, and void of any warmth. “You will simply be judged for what you did.”
“You don’t care?” She tugged the drawstring of the bag closed and jumped to her feet. “He’ll kill me and you’ll just … hand me over?”
“You don’t get to pretend you’re the victim when you orchestrated his murder,princess.” He spat out her title in a mocking tone. She could feel the trembling of rage through their bond; it grew and waned, as if he was struggling to control it. His face twisted with a frown. “You used me for your plan to kill the man who raised me. You put all of us in danger. And now you’re pretending like you’re a victim in all of this? As if you played no part in manipulating and stabbing everyone in the back? Stabbingmein the back?”
“I understand I’m not the victim and I did wrong, but I just wanted to be free, Nikator! Can’t you see that?”
“You tried to kill him, princess! You could have run away and kept your hands clean! You could have avoided me, you could have—” He walked around the horse until they were a mere foot apart. His hands clenched together and his jaw tightened. “You could have handled it so differently. You keep saying that you did it for your freedom, but you didn’t have to resort to violence, murder, or manipulations.”
Tears stung her eyes and she hated how right he was. She had thought that she needed to kill Drakkon Muyang in order to achieve complete freedom, but she could see that she had been wrong about so many things. He wasn’t entirely a villain, and he was better than her father had been. Despite all the wrong he had done, she wasn’t in the right for wanting to rip him away from his wife, from the Peccata, and from everyone who cared for him.
“Oh, don’t fucking cry now.” He scoffed as a tear rolled down her cheek. A pained look passed over his face for a split second, but it was replaced by fury. He shook his head in disgust. “Everything between us was a lie. You used me. You … lied to me, princess. You made a fool out of me. Were you secretly laughing as I spilled the truth to you? As I told you everything you wanted to hear?”
She flinched. “No, Nik, I didn’t?—”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped. “You lost that right.”
“Nikator,” she began again, voice trembling. “I’m sorry. You have to believe me that I didn’t want to hurt you. I … I messed up. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“Save your breath.” His nostrils flared with every forceful breath and his hands curled into fists. “I should have never trusted you when I knew—I damn wellknew—you were trouble. That you couldn’t be trusted. And like a fool, I fell for it all.”
“You have to believe me when I say I’m sorry.” More tears ran down her face and she stepped forward to touch him, but he stepped back stiffly. Her hand hung in the air for a moment and her face crumpled. “Nikator, I didn’t want to betray you. I wanted us to be together. I wanted—no, Istillwant that. I want to be with you.”
His teeth ground together, jaw clenching. “Don’t lie to me like that.”
“I’m not lying!”
“You’ve always been a liar. Why am I still surprised?”
“I’m not lying.” She broke the distance between them and took hold of the front of his shirt. She clung to him, pleading, “Nikator, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I was wrong—I was so wrong. I thought that I had to help Yat-sen kill Drakkon Muyang so that we could be completely free. I thought it would be better to put Yat-sen on the throne. But I waswrong. Please, forgive me. You have to understand?—”
“You’re smarter than that, princess.” He didn’t push her away, but remained deathly still, his gaze burning with hatred. “You didn’t have to resort to any of this. And now you’re playing the part of guilt and regret? I don’t believe it for one second. You just want me to let you go, don’t you?”
“No, that’s not—” She tried shaking him, her sobs breaking from deep within her. “That’s not it! Don’t lie to me and tell me you don’t feel something between us?”
“Am I supposed to feel something before or after you stab me again?”
“I didn’t stab you!”
“Metaphorically. But how about we make it literal too?” He whipped out a dagger from his thigh strap and flipped it until the blade was pointed down. He thrust it into her hand and wrapped her fingers around the hilt. His eyes glowed with animosity. “Stab me, princess. I know you want to. Do it and run away like you always do.”
“Stop!” She sobbed and tried pulling her hand back but he didn’t relent. He twisted her hand with the weapon until the edge was pressed against his heart. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he was practically shoving it closer. “Stop, Nikator! I don’t want to hurt you!Please!”
“You have hurt me, princess.” He released her hand and the dagger slipped to the ground. A conflicted look passed over his features at the sight of her weeping, but he turned his away. His hands fisted and unclenched. “I thought … I thought we had something.”
“We did,” she cried, shoulder shaking.
“No, we didn’t.” Nikator grimaced. “We didn’t have anything. I was just another cog in your plan.”
“That’s not true.”
He stared at her long and hard, his gaze tracking over the tears streaming down her face, to her lips, her nose, her eyes—as if he wanted to imprint her expression into his memory. His mouth parted, then closed, and his face tightened. She could feel a deep sadness through their bond for a split second, before he capped it up and away.
“I loved you,” he whispered.
Biyu’s breath caught in her throat and the world seemed to freeze in that single moment. The breeze ceased, the tree branches stopped swaying, and even the stream seemed to quiet. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
“Nikator,” she began, voice hitching. She stepped forward, but he halted her with his hand. The distance between them remained charged.
