—You truly didn’t know! Allow me to fill you in. Not two years after the abbey, your knights of good flew Sabine to a height and dropped her for fun. I saw her head crack open on the cobblestones. I barely pulled her back from the dead.—
Vrekeners were the curse of evildoers; they did not commit evil.
She read his expression. —Don’t believe me? Why do you think I grew to be so afraid of heights? Because I’ve seen what happens to a body when it lands! And then, not a year later, your kind were upon us again.—
Her gaze went distant. —We hid in a hayloft. But these huge winged males swept up after us, your knights. Laughing, the leader picked up a pitchfork and stabbed the hay.— She flexed her right hand. —Sabine jumped from the loft, running to distract them from me. They chased her into a river. She couldn’t swim and drowned!— Melanthe faced him once more, leaning in aggressively. —I found her on a bank three towns away, and debilitated my power to bring her back.—
“You expect me to believe that my own men tried to gore my mate to death when she was a helpless little girl? Ah, but it gets better. Only Sabine’s selflessness saved you? How false that rings!” Melanthe was lying. She had to be.
Because Vrekeners didn’t.
—I don’t expect you to believe that. Just like I don’t expect you to believe that we weren’t isolated cases. That your knights brutalized other Sorceri even worse.—
“The enchantress spins her tales.”
—The enchantress is DONE with Vrekener bullshit!— She spat blood in his face.
Thronos shot to his feet, lifting her with him. “You provoke me?”
—I wish I’d put you to sleep with the rest of those dicks!—
“Then why didn’t you?”
She averted her eyes.
“Why, Melanthe?”
She frowned at something past him. He glanced over his shoulder, saw several serpents, in a prism’s worth of colors. How many were there?
That was when he noticed that the shape of their little island had changed.
He bit out, “The water’s rising,” just as she said: —I think they like my blood.—
TWELVE
Naturally, Lanthe had spat in the face of the one person who could save her from being serpent chow. The rain was still washing red streams off his chiseled cheeks.
Of all her fears, being food was up there, just under Vrekener attack. Time to make nice with her hated tormentor.
Choking back the pain in her mouth, she faked a flirtatious demeanor. —I seem to have gotten my blood on your face. Bad Lanthe! Hey, I have an idea. Let’s team up!—
He scowled at her as he tested his wings, the lines of his face growing tight with pain. The damaged wing was nowhere near ready to fly. He was like a plane that had lost one engine. When the water lapped at their feet, he said, “It’ll have to be enough to get us to the coast I spied.”
She turned, seeing nothing through the gloom. But the mercury water and rainbow serpents were giving her an idea of where they might be. If she was correct, then danger loomed everywhere. If they encountered rivers of fire and a perpetual demonic war, she’d know. . . .
Lanthe needed the Vrekener’s help to survive this place—and she needed him bullish, convinced he could save her! How to get his adrenaline pumping?
She gazed at his chest. His shirt hung wide, revealing his scarred skin. His muscles were hard and generous. Attractive. No wonder Ember had desired him.
Reaching forward, Lanthe laid a shaking palm over his heart. He tensed, and at once its beat began to thunder. The second time she’d voluntarily touched him as an adult. She cleared her throat, then remembered she couldn’t talk. —Thronos, if you can get us out of this situation . . . —
The water swept closer, the serpents growing bolder.
—I’ll let you touch me.—
He narrowed his eyes down at her. “What you don’t understand is that I’ll be doing whatever I please to you.”
Well. When had he gotten so cocky? Then she recalled that he had been as a boy as well.