fair,” she murmured as he turned her around and pressed her against the door. “This is playing dirty.”
“I’ll not lie to you, Nadya,” he said, a smile quirking his lips at the irony. “I play dirty.”
Then her traitorous, heretical hands betrayed her as she reached up and wove them into his hair, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him. Because she was angry with him, furious with his lies, but not even her anger was enough to cool the burning she felt when he was near; the heat that spread through her nerves when he touched her.
He made a small surprised sound against her mouth, his hands pulling her closer. His hips pressed into her, hand tugging at her hair to draw her face up to his. She arched her back off the wall, letting her body form against his until there was no space left and it was just them, only them, and the heat of his body and the pressure of his mouth.
For all his lies and plots and the danger he brought into the shoddy plan they had, she held this over him, she realized. This monstrous king could be undone by the touch of her lips.
She only had enough sense to tuck that piece of information away before he kissed her harder, deeper, sliding his knee in between her legs, and every sensible thought she had fled her mind.
When they finally broke apart, Nadya let out a breathless laugh as she gazed up at the glittering rainbows cast by the tower.
“You’re going to go find Parijahan and Rashid. I don’t know what happened to them after I was taken and I’m worried,” she said.
He nodded.
She took his chin in her hand, directing his gaze down to hers. “Prove to me with something other than words that I shouldn’t kill you for what you are,” she whispered.
But even now, she didn’t know if she could ever do what needed to be done.
“Go to the cathedral when you’re finished here,” he said. “None of the Vultures will give you any trouble.”
She felt a chill of dread, but she nodded. “Do the others know about you?”
“Yes.”
They’ve all been keeping this from me. Every single one of them.
“Nadya…” he began, but she waved him off, stepping away toward the stairs.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll speak with you later.” An undercurrent of a threat, a promise, a statement that this wasn’t over and she wasn’t going to let him sway her with charm.
He hesitated, and his hesitation did nothing but break Nadya down further. She didn’t know what to do and she didn’t have her gods for guidance. She hated feeling lost, betrayed, and broken.
Ultimately, it didn’t matter. She had come here to stop a war, to bring about justice for her gods, to bring them back. Her heart wasn’t a factor, no matter how much it was twisted and torn in the process.
She returned to Pelageya’s rooms, bracing herself for the questions Serefin would surely have for her that she wasn’t entirely certain she could answer. He still thought she was a Tranavian noble. It didn’t make sense that he recognized Malachiasz, but there was something else, something there. They both had the same icy pale eyes, and it was probably nothing, a quirk of coincidence, yet …
Likely it was something that didn’t matter. Nadya pushed open the door to find Serefin whispering fiercely with Ostyia. They both stopped when she entered.
“Where did Malachiasz go?” Serefin asked.
“We came here with companions who haven’t been seen since I was kidnapped.”
Serefin flinched. Nadya let some of her ice cool. He was fighting for the same thing they were, albeit in a roundabout way. She didn’t know how he felt about the war, but the way he had spoken of it at dinner the night before had been weary.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t know you all would be in danger from him as well.”
“But you knew there was something going on?”
“I thought his focus was entirely on me.”
She nodded. “Is that why you’re willing to kill him? Because it’s you or him?”
“That and you’ve seen Tranavia, you see what his obsession with power and this war have done to the country.”
She had. She’d seen poverty and suffering, just as there was in Kalyazin. This couldn’t continue, they couldn’t sustain it for much longer.
“Do you trust him?” Serefin asked. “The Black Vulture?”
I didn’t know that was who he was, she thought, so the answer is too complicated for words.
“I think it’s