Dark Champion (Flirting with Monsters #4) - Eva Chase Page 0,14

they’d dismiss any appeals I made.

Had Sorsha wanted to save both of us from each other, or only to protect Thorn in case I savaged him beyond repair? I hadn’t been aiming for that, had only wanted to force him to surrender, but in the heat of battle, one’s intentions didn’t always carry through. She could have taken the gamble, hoping that he’d best me, free her, and convey her to safety…

But whatever chance she’d seen of escape, she’d decided it was worth less than the chance of losing Thorn. Possibly even of losing me to his blows, though darkness only knew why she’d care about that after the way I’d treated her over the past two days.

The past two days? That was the least of it. What about the past month?

I’d cut her only the tiny portion of slack my unexpected respect for her had demanded, and I’d reproached myself for every bit of that, thinking it was emotional weakness. But perhaps she’d been right that day when my frustration had boiled over into passion—when she’d told me there was more strength in owning one’s emotions than burying them.

Over and over, I’d told myself that I shouldn’t allow myself to be impressed by her or desire her. That no matter what I saw, her mortal frailty would come through and screw us over when it mattered most. And here I was with her words still ringing in my ears, hearing her take a greater stand and making a greater sacrifice than I’d ever been willing to do with all the amends I’d tried to make to my kind.

Who the hell was I to judge a woman willing to lay down her life to spare our pain?

Yes, she’d risked her life plenty of times in her capers to free captive shadowkind and during our missions. Somehow I’d managed to dismiss all that as adventure-seeking rather than generosity. But there was no adventure to be had in lying down at the mercy of the most inhumane—and inhuman—of all shadowkind. That was pure, selfless sacrifice.

I couldn’t shake the sense that at least some small part of it was for my benefit. I might be adept at pretending away my own emotions, but I couldn’t deny the compassion I’d seen cross her eyes when I’d spoken of my ties to the Highest and the consequences that would come from defying them.

Did I really think a woman with that much valor and forgiveness in her would allow herself to cause some global act of destruction? By the looks of things, she’d sooner throw herself on my claws than let herself spiral anywhere near that far out of control.

“Omen,” Thorn started again, but I stopped him with a gesture.

“Stop fretting. I’m not turning her over to the Highest.”

He paused, his stern face so befuddled in that moment it was almost amusing. “But she— You were adamant— What in the worlds were we fighting over if you had no intention—”

“I did intend,” I said tersely. “Then she proved how far she’ll go just to spare the two of us from pain. It’s a little hard to continue believing she could possibly exterminate us all after that, don’t you think?”

Thorn scowled. “I don’t fully understand why she made that offer either. I would have subdued you and freed her, given enough time…” He glowered at me as if daring me to argue about his combat prowess.

I patted one of his massive arms. “Don’t be a grouch about it. You’re getting the outcome you wanted, and it didn’t even require any near-fatal wounds—for either of us, which I’m especially glad of.”

“She should have seen I wouldn’t have come all this way or forced the issue with you if her survival hadn’t been more important than a few battle wounds.”

The furrows on the wingéd’s forehead deepened. No doubt he still couldn’t understand why I’d considered turning Sorsha over in the first place. What could he attribute it to other than the frequent clashes between us? I might have made demands of her that, I’d admit, looked petty in retrospect, but I’d never been anywhere near that vindictive toward her—or anyone, in ages.

But explaining my reasoning would mean revealing the leash I’d allowed the Highest to fix around my neck, the way I’d abased myself to save my life, and the thought of doing that sent a far deeper jab of revulsion through me than the possibility that the wingéd might see me as overly callous. It’d been hard enough