Road To Fire (Broken Crown Trilogy #1) - Maria Luis Page 0,107

and tinged with sorrow. “Alfie, you mustn’t cry. Do you hear me? If you want to—”

“If I want to what?” he expels on an unmistakable water-logged exhale. “Survive? I’m lucky that I’m alive! And you know who’ll suffer if I do die? My two little girls. They’ll be the ones to suffer, not me.”

The same fate will meet Peter and Josie, I know that all too well. But I hope . . . Well, I hope that the two of them are stronger together. Where are they now? I’ve asked myself that question no less than twenty times since being trapped in this cell and, like every other instance, I suppress the bad, lurking thoughts and place them in a mental box with an impenetrable lock.

First I need to escape.

Then I can go about saving them.

“Whoever you had orders from,” I say, my brain working overtime as I run through the beginnings of a hazy plan, “would they realize you’ve gone missing?”

“Are you asking if they’ll save me? Or if they’ll save you, considering that you shot the king?”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.” I swallow, tightly. “We must help each other, Alfie. However we can.”

I expect Barker to issue another derisive rejection. But even as I strain my ears, listening for the increasingly familiar timbre of his nasally voice, there’s no further activity from his side of the wall. Dammit, Barker. Another moment of silence passes, and then yet another, until concern slams into me. There’s nothing in this cell that could inflict self-harm—I’ve checked what feels like every nook and cranny for a weapon I might use to escape—but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t found another, more sinister, method to get the job done.

Like bashing his head on the wall and ending his misery.

Oh, God.

Still on my knees, I bang a closed fist against the stone. “Alfie, think rationally. Do you hear me? Whatever you’re feeling, it’ll get better. It must get better. We’ve spent our lives fighting for this and you cannot give up now.”

“He hasn’t.”

At the familiar, dark-pitched voice, I swing my gaze toward where the door is vaguely located—only to spot Saxon standing there. As it was when we first entered the hallway, the two-sided glass is crystal clear, quite literally, which means that even if I didn’t want to see his blasted face ever again, I’m not given the luxury.

The overhead lights flicker on as I push to my feet, not bothering to wipe the grime away from my joggers or the betrayal from my heart.

“Have you come to kill me, then?” I ask, not the least bit flippantly.

“Not quite.” Saxon’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch, but he does move his foot against something on the floor. It’s only then that I realize he’s brought me a tray of food. “I prefer other methods of intimidation. Starving my victims tends to lessen the fun of stealing every one of their secrets.”

“How unfortunate for you, then, that I’m all out of those.” Kicking my chin up, I stare him down over the slope of my nose. “The same can’t be said for you, can it, Saxon Priest?” The straight set to my shoulders falters as a staggering thought hits me. “Is that even your real name or have you lied about that too?”

When his only answer is to avert his gaze, I wrap my arms around my middle and hold on tight. It’s either that or cry, and I refuse to shed a single tear for this man. At least, not any more tears than I already have. And certainly not while he can bear witness to their existence.

Even so, I can’t silence the bitter laugh that climbs my throat any more than I can the hostile retort that leaps free: “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve done nothing but lie from the start. Once again, I’ve unveiled everything there is to know about myself. Willingly. Because I trusted you. Meanwhile, it was all a ploy—”

His fist connecting with the glass has me damn-near jumping out of my skin.

“I turned you away,” he snarls, his scarred mouth pulling angrily, his bruised knuckles flush with the door. “I’m no hero, Isla. I’ve never claimed to be one. But don’t you dare fucking say that I welcomed you with wide open arms.”

As though the barrier doesn’t even exist, I march forward and jab a single finger into the glass. If it weren’t there, I hope I’d puncture his good-for-nothing heart. “No, let me rephrase that for you—you wanted