28. Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Eight

I was getting better at this , I thought to myself as I stumbled to keep my balance. A hand grabbed my elbow to stabilize me and I instinctively pulled away as Taft’s rough fingers pushed into my skin. Taft’s expression shifted and I could see the hurt etched in his features. He took a step back, clasping his hands behind his back as I dusted myself off.

I knew we would eventually need to have a conversation, but it was currently the last thing on my mind. My eyes slid over to Andrues, who began to talk as I pulled myself together from tethering.

“Do not speak to anyone you come in contact with, and try to avoid eye contact. Focus only on Ata and let her guide you. Do not trust the emotions you feel while we are in the city—they can be easily manipulated.” We all nodded in agreement as I took a small step toward Ardan, hoping that his presence would ease some of the anxiety that was coursing through me.

Ardan gave me a reassuring smile and draped his arm around my shoulders as I glanced over to where Landers stood. His features were set in a hard line as he observed the city that stood at the base of the sand dune we were perched on.

I followed his line of sight, standing in awe of what stood below us. It looked like hundreds of golden blades protruding through the sand, reaching upward to pierce the sky. The sun reflected down on them, making the city dance with a glowing and ominous energy. The large edifices cast shadows into the lower parts of the city, blocking it from the light, and I had a sickening feeling that was right where we were heading.

Andrues’s voice softened as he approached Ata, who shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Are you ready?” Andrues asked as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her once-dark hair turned a stunning shade of silver and cascaded down her back as she opened her eyes.

I watched, wide-eyed as she shifted in front of us.

The skin she wore was so beautifully haunting—unsettling. I tore my gaze from her as a grin spread across Andrues’s face.

“You did it flawlessly,” Andrues complimented, stepping back to admire her work. Ata’s smile in response was wicked. My mind struggled to make sense of what I was seeing as Ardan stiffened next to me. I could feel the tension flow through his body as I clutched his arm.

“Ata will lead us through the lower district.” Landers finally spoke, tearing his eyes away from the city to let them gaze over Ata. “If anyone approaches or speaks to you, tell them you belong to her. They will not go near a Witch’s slave.”

Ata’s clothes had become thin pieces of fabric that clutched and accentuated the curves of this other woman’s body. The black and red dress left little to the imagination as she twirled. I felt a twinge of jealousy as I watched Landers’s eyes on her.

I shook off the feeling.

I would not let this place get its claws into me.

Landers met her eyes and his jaw clenched.

“Your magic will not work on me.” Landers’s back straightened as Ata giggled and practically floated over to him, her bare feet light atop the sand. Her voice was like a siren song, pulling you in with every word and tugging you toward her.

“Well, I have to make sure it’s working, don’t I, Landers?”

My stomach knotted as I watched.

It was her magic. It was this place.

It wasn’t her.

Ata ran her hand down Landers’s chest slowly—suggestively. He grasped her wrist, gently removing it from him and met Andrues’s eyes. Andrues was chuckling softly behind us as he nodded to Landers in understanding.

“Ata, remember what we spoke about?” Andrues lifted a brow, struggling to hide his smile. “Breathe. Separate yourself from the magic.”

Ata rolled her eyes in Andrues direction before nodding reluctantly. Her body relaxed as she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Though she still didn’t look like herself, her body movement seemed to slip back into something that felt familiar.

Ata opened her eyes and glanced back at Landers.

“Sorry about that,” she said looking down at her nails. “I’m still trying to figure out how to control it and this place . . . this place makes it hard.”

Landers gave a smile of understanding.

She looked over at me and Ardan and smiled nervously. The smile was hers again but not on her lips. It was like this woman before us was Ata’s twin in essence. Ardan’s body relaxed before playfully pulling her into his chest.

“Feel free to practice on me anytime.” His eyes wandered over her body before meeting her gaze again. “Preferably in your body, but I am at your disposal.” She giggled as he grinned down at her and placed a soft kiss on her cheek before she pulled away looking back toward Landers.

“Well, should we get this over with?” He motioned his arm toward the city.

“Lead the way.”

I could feel it, the moment we stepped into the city, like a wave of desire rolling over my body. My face flushed as I tried to focus on Ata’s back. Eyes from onlookers focused on Ata, and the hands of men and women reached out to touch her. I realized now why Landers had wanted her to use her magic.

No one acknowledged the rest of us as she walked by, keeping them entranced in her allure as we slipped by without so much as a glance.

The city was writhing in dark, carnal energy.

Screams mixed with the sounds of lascivious activity echoed through the air, it was terrifying and intoxicating all at once. We pushed our way through the crowds forming at all the taverns and brothels that lined the streets.

A hand slid around my waist and I spun around to see a man drenched in sweat pulling me against his body. Frantically, I tried clawing out of his grasp as his hold only got stronger.

“I think I’ll have you tonight.” He grinned down at me with empty eyes as liquor-saturated breath poured onto my face.

“I’m not—” The blade of Taft’s axe slid against the man’s throat, slicing through the overgrown beard and stopping at his skin.

“Release her,” Taft snarled and the man’s hand rose into the air as he took a step back. He pulled me from the stranger’s grip and tucked me into his chest, taking a step toward our group, now yards in front of us. Taft kept eye contact with the man until the crowd surrounded us again. He slid his hand into mine and I grasped it tight as my heart beat wildly in its cage.

“Did he hurt you?” Taft’s voice was cold as he kept his eyes focused on the back of Ardan’s head poking over the top of the flood of people.

“No, I . . . I’m okay.” I breathed, trying to even out my pulse.

We ducked into a tavern tucked into a shadowy corner off the main road and I spotted Ardan standing in an alcove at the back of the room with Landers. I took a step toward them as Taft jerked me back, his hand still grasping mine. My eyes snapped to his.

“Where was he when you needed help?” His eyes flickered to Landers with disdain before he looked at me. I jerked my hand out of his, disgust rising in my throat.

“This isn’t about Landers, you self-centered asshole. This is about Ardan,” I snapped, pointing to Ardan who was standing with his fists clenched in the corner. “He just had to watch the woman he loves become someone he doesn’t know to keep all of us safe. I’m going to do what you should have done the moment we walked in here and check on him.”

Taft locked eyes with me and took a step closer. “And you don’t think I don’t know how that feels?” he snarled, as I took a step back—distancing myself.

We were still on this.

I finally found the courage to speak up for myself, start making my own choices, and suddenly I’m the villain in his story. I scoffed, turning toward Ardan.

I was done dealing with this shit from him.

Let me be the villain.

My hand traced small circles across Ardan’s back, rubbing to help calm his nerves as I rested my head on his arm.

“How are you managing?” I asked Ardan as I watched Ata from across the tavern.

His jaw tightened and flexed. “I have never felt jealousy like this. Never with her.”

“One night. We just have to get through one night in the city.”

He nodded in agreement as Ata sauntered back toward us, keys in hand.

“I was only able to get three rooms.” The confident smile fell from her lips as she handed them to Landers.

“That is all we will need. It is better that none of us are alone here. Thank you, I know this has not been easy on you,” Landers said, handing her back a single key. “Get some rest, you will need it for tomorrow.”

Ardan picked up their bags and headed toward the back of the tavern, guiding her up the withered, wooden stairs that creaked under the weight of him.

“I don’t want to be alone with Taft,” I blurted before I could stop myself. Landers gave a weary smile before handing me a key.

“You can stay alone if you’d like, I will place a protective spell on your door. Andrues will stay with Taft.”

“Where will you stay then?” I asked, fiddling with the key in my hand as I waited for his response.

“I am sure I can find other accommodations.” Landers brushed a hand through his hair as jealousy bit at me.

My mind flashed to all the brothels and beautiful women we passed getting here and I knew women would throw themselves at him. I tried shaking the thought from my head—I shouldn’t even care.

He lifted my satchel from the ground and gestured to the stairway.

“May I?” Landers asked. I nodded as he began escorting me to my room. With Ata no longer by our side, I could feel the eyes that lingered on us as we made our way to the second floor.

“These are your quarters,” Landers said, stopping at the door furthest away from the steps.

I pushed the heavy iron key into the lock and twisted. The door groaned open, exposing a modest-sized room with a bed pushed into the corner. Adjacent to the bed was a small sitting area with two wingback chairs on either side of a round wooden table that sat across from a fireplace that blazed with flames, though no heat came from them. I walked into the room, inspecting its dusty surfaces and tattered curtains.

“Have you stayed here before?” I asked as I meandered over to the window, looking down at the streets that were growing darker with the lowering sun.

“Yes,” was all he responded, setting my bag on the floor at the foot of my bed. I tucked a curl behind my ear before turning back to him.

“With the protection spell, can it be done to still allow specific people in?” I rubbed my arms, the unease of this place prickling at my skin.

“It can. Who would you like to allow access?” He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, exposing his muscular forearms. His jaw feathered as he avoided my eyes. He seemed . . . nervous—on edge.

His veins pulsed quickly under his skin as he crossed his arms over his chest. I clenched my thighs together at the sight, recalling how easily those arms pulled me onto him last night.

I tore my gaze away, looking for anything else to stare at.

This fucking place.

“Everyone but Taft,” I finally answered, trying to collect my thoughts.

“As you wish.” Landers bowed his head slightly before taking a step into the hallway. “I will make sure food gets delivered for you, and there is a washroom just there.” He gestured his head to the small door in the corner of my room. “If there is anything you need, Andrues is just down the hall. Ata and Ardan are in the room across from you.”

“Thank you.” My voice was barely audible over the growing noise from the tavern below us.

Landers nodded then shut the door behind him.

The fire started to emit heat as the sun ducked below the rolling dunes. I felt it warming the room as I stepped out of the washroom, water dripping from my freshly cleansed hair. I poured myself a glass of wine from the bottle that had been left with my meal and sat down in one of the chairs, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of the flames kiss my skin.

It had gotten late, and the activities from the bordellos were growing louder, confirming why Landers and Andrues insisted we traveled here in daylight. My eyes flew open at a knock sounding at my door. I sat there listening as the second knock came.

“Cin?” Taft’s voice echoed from the hallway.

I groaned, emptying the rest of my glass into my mouth and pouring another.

“Cin, can we please talk?”

I emptied my glass a second time and poured a third. “Go away, Taft!” I shouted from my seat, tucking a knee against my chest under my wet towel.

“We need to talk about this.”

I took a gulp from my glass, staring into the fireplace and watching the flames dance alongside each other.

His fist pounded against the door.

“Taft, please leave.”

“Hyacinth!” His pounding became rapid and my hands shook as I swallowed down the wine and refilled my glass.

If I didn’t engage with him, he would leave, I told myself as I sat waiting for the next blow at the door, but it didn’t come.

I could feel the alcohol hitting my bloodstream, and my hands began to steady with every minute that passed by in silence. I let out a breath and laid my head against the back of the chair.

My mind drifted to Landers and where he was—who he was with; wondering if the sounds scratching at my window came from the woman who was keeping his bed warm tonight. Another knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts. I rolled my eyes, setting my glass on the table beside me and stomped to the door.

“Leave me alone!” I yelled, as I swung it open.

Landers leaned against the door frame smirking at me.

“Expecting someone else?” He chuckled. I stepped to the side to let him through, shutting the door quickly behind him.

“What are you doing here?” I snapped, folding my arms across my chest.

“I came to check on you before you turned in for the night.” His eyes scanned me, still wrapped in a towel, then scanned the almost empty bottle of wine on the table.

“How did you know I wasn’t already asleep?”

Landers smiled, amusement flooding his features as he gestured to the window with his chin. “I could see the light coming from your room, so I took a chance.”

I pulled the towel tighter around my body.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fine.” I gestured around the room. He cocked his head to the side, observing me as I glared at him.

“What?”

“What has you so upset?” His words were soft, and I scoffed at them.

“Shouldn’t you be off pleasuring some woman right now at your other accommodations?”

I don’t know why I said that. I sounded jealous, and I was not jealous.

His jaw flexed as he took a step toward me. “Is that what you think of me?” Landers asked, his voice low and husky. “That I would pleasure just any woman in order to keep me occupied—to satiate some need?” He was an arm’s distance from me, and I could feel the energy buzzing between us, overwhelming and intoxicating.

“I don’t think of you.” It was a lie.

A blatant lie and he knew it.

I avoided meeting his eyes, failing to hide the need I felt for him as I scanned his body.

“Is that so?” he asked, leaning in and bracing himself with both hands on the wall, trapping me between them. His scent wafted off of him as he inched closer, his eyes glinting with something dark. “You do not care who I bed?” Landers took another step closer.

I looked up at him, trying to regain my composure and swallowed.

“Why would I care about that?” I asked, my voice breathy—thin. Landers let his hand slip from beside my head, his fingers finding the bare skin of my thigh. I pressed my back to the wall and prayed to the Gods my body would not betray me.

“You do not care if these hands”—his fingers began sliding up my thigh—“touch the skin of another woman?” His voice was a low growl as he asked the question.

“No,” I breathed as my chest heaved. A mirthless chuckle left his lips as he leaned closer to me and took a deep breath. His lips grazed the side of my jaw and I gasped, my thighs clenching as his lips met the base of my ear.

“You do not care if my lips—my tongue —pleasure some other woman?” I could feel his hot breath trickling down my neck as he whispered the question into my ear. A low moan built in my throat at the words and my core began to throb as his fingers met the hem of the towel wrapped around me.

“No,” I answered, my voice barely audible over our heavy breaths.

Landers’s other hand dropped from the wall, his fingers trailing up my shoulder, then my neck, until his thumb was grazing my bottom lip. I lifted my chin as my body gave in and arched into him. My eyes met his as I parted my lips and let my tongue slide over the tip of his thumb. His other hand clenched around my thigh as a growl rumbled through his chest and my nipples hardened at the sound.

I could feel the ache between my thighs growing more intense with each passing second. His eyes fell to my lips and lingered there for a second before abruptly pulling away from me and striding across the room. He leaned against the window and clutched the frame. He took a few deep breaths before turning to face me, the veins pumping underneath the skin stretched across his forearms.

Landers leaned his head against the window, casually crossing his arms against his chest, with a smirk.

“Is something funny?” I breathed as I clutched the towel tight around my body, trying to calm the fire he had just ignited in my center.

“You are lying.” His voice dripped with unmistakable arrogance. “I can see right through you, Hyacinth.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “I need to get dressed,” I said curtly as I slipped into the washroom, keeping my eyes away from his and closing the door loudly behind me.

I pressed my back against the door, trying to regain control over my racing heartbeat.

He was infuriating. This place was infuriating.

I took a few deep breaths as I pulled my nightshirt over my head and down the length of my body before opening the door again. Landers was sitting, with a glass of wine in his hand and a fresh bottle sitting on the table between the chairs. He lifted a glass in my direction as he motioned me to sit. I plopped down and pulled the wine from his hand as I brought my knees to my chest then took a sip.

“This place will do that to you,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips.

I knew what he meant, but I was not going to be the one to admit that the emotions it was heightening, were feelings for him . So instead I asked, “Do what?”

“Provoke emotions that should not be provoked.” He took another sip. “Even the smallest of attractions, fears, or annoyances will be heightened. They will start to fester the longer you stay, and it will become harder to resist acting upon them.” He looked over at me with furrowed brows before turning back to the fireplace and continuing. “So, your feelings of envy are understandable.”

I scoffed, taking another swig from my cup. He was really not going to let this go, and I was not going to give him the satisfaction of a response.

The ambiance of the crackling fire filled the room with warmth as we sat together in a comfortable silence. I glanced around the room, taking in the intricate details. The once vibrant wallpaper was now dulled, peeling at the edges to reveal the splintering wood underneath.

The furniture was worn and faded, its once rich colors now muted by time. I slid my hand over the upholstery on the arm of my chair, where it was threadbare, and pulled on the loose strings. I could smell the rich history of the room in the air. The smell of old paper and perfume left a musty scent lingering like memories the room had created over the years. Portraits hanging on the walls seemed to hold secrets of their own, whispering tales of forbidden desires and dark secrets that had been locked away for centuries.

I swirled the liquid in my glass, watching the wine stain the edges as I contemplated breaking the silence between us. I still had so many questions I needed answers to, and I didn’t know the next time we would have time to sit and talk.

“Do you miss your home?” My question lingered in the silence for a moment before Landers answered.

“I do.” He paused. “And I don’t.” I let my eyes study him as he leaned back into the tattered chair. “I miss the people and the safety of it, but it has been refreshing to have a reprieve from my responsibilities.” He sighed, and a slight smile crossed his face.

“What is it that you do in Locdragoon?” I asked, as I poured myself a fresh glass of wine and reached for his glass to refill it.

I waited for his answer and watched as he delicately pressed his lips against the rim of the glass, tilting it ever so slightly to allow the deep red liquid trickle into his mouth. His throat bobbed with each swallow.

“I am a diplomat of sorts.”

I rolled my eyes. “That makes sense, you do like to boss people around.”

A wide smile spread across Landers face. “Guilty,” he said with a wink.

I swung my legs over the arm of the chair. “What exactly does a big , powerful diplomat do?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

“It can vary, depending on the situation. But essentially, I am responsible for representing my realm in negotiations with the others. It is a delicate balance between maintaining friendly relations and protecting our own interests.”

“That does sound like a lot of responsibility to put on one person.”

“It can be,” he agreed with a small smile. “But there is nothing of myself I would not give to my—” He hesitated. “The people of Locdragoon.” Landers stayed quiet for a moment, almost somber, before continuing. “It can also be very rewarding. I have had the opportunity to travel to many places and meet honest, hard working people.”

“Like here in Ammord?” I asked quietly as the feelings that were definitely not jealousy crept up again.

“Yes, like here,” Landers replied softly, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Enough about me. Tell me more about your time at the academy.”

I tilted my head to the side and studied him, narrowing my eyes. “Why don’t you like talking about yourself?”

Landers let out a small laugh and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and shrugged nonchalantly. “I suppose I am just not used to it. In my line of work, it is usually about others and their needs.”

I took a sip of my drink, contemplating his answer. “But isn’t it important to take care of yourself too?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I assure you, Hyacinth, I am taken care of,” he purred and a jolt of electricity shocked my core. I pressed my thighs together, trapping the feeling now pooling between them. I crossed my arms and pursed my lips, trying to hide the need raging inside of me.

He shook his head in amusement. “If you must know, I play piano when I have time to myself. It calms me.”

I tried to keep my face neutral and failed miserably.

I beamed at him.

I tried to imagine it—him hunched over a grand piano, his fingers gliding over the ebony and ivory keys, producing a haunting melody. I could picture his furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes while he poured his emotions into the music.

“You really play piano?”

Landers laughed and leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Try not to sound so surprised.”

“It’s just . . . hard to imagine someone like you playing such a delicate instrument.”

Landers let out a mock gasp. “Someone like me? What kind of man do you think I am, Hyacinth?” I giggled at his exaggerated offense.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I breathed. “One who spends their days making important political decisions and threatening men they don’t care for.”

Landers chuckled, shaking his head. “There is more to people than their professions.” He raised a brow at me, and I grinned back as silence fell between us.

His words struck a chord with me. He had passions, interests, and a life that was completely separate from the image he let the public see. There was so much more to him, buried behind his stubborn wall.

“Why the piano?” I asked, genuinely curious. He smiled and looked away for a moment as if considering his answer.

“My mother.” He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry, we don’t . . .”

Landers raised his hand. His expression a mix of sorrow and understanding as if he had already anticipated what I was going to say. A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Please, do not apologize. I like to speak about her, to remember how deeply she enriched my life for the short time I had her.” Landers’s voice softened as he began to reminisce.

“She was an extraordinary woman. Her laughter could fill a room, and her kindness knew no bounds. She had this incredible ability to make everyone around her feel seen and loved.”

I listened to his words, my heart swelling for him. It was clear that the memory of her held a profound place in his heart, and I felt honored that he was sharing this intimate part of himself with me.

“She taught me so much about compassion and kindness, making sure I did not turn out like my father. No matter what challenges life threw at her, she always managed to find strength within herself and spread that strength to others.” He paused for a moment, lost in the memories of her before speaking again.

“When she married my father, they were gifted a piano and it was my mother’s most prized possession. Growing up, we did not have much—but we had that and it was enough for us. We spent hours playing together. It was our escape when my father was away.” He closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath as his shoulders slumped. “The first thing my father did, after murdering my mother and brother, was destroy that piano,” Landers said with a sharp breath and shook his head, looking back at me with a tight smile.

“I play now, because it is all I have left of her, and her legacy deserves to be remembered. I replaced that piano in my childhood home and now, on the anniversary of her passing, I go there to play for her. To remember her.”

The room seemed to grow still, as if the weight of his words had sucked out all the air. I watched the firelight reflecting in his eyes, illuminating the contours of his face that carried echoes of his pain.

“I think she would be proud of you,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. “After everything you have been through, you are still so kind and protective of the people you care about. Those things would turn most people cold.”

Landers leaned onto his knees and shook his head. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and I could see him fighting against my words, refusing to let them in.

I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand, and gazed at Landers intently. “So, what else do you do in your free time?” I asked, trying to lighten the heaviness that had sunk into the room.

“So very curious,” he drawled, his muscles relaxing as he fell back into his usual confidence.

“It’s hard not to be.”

He let out a breathy laugh and looked away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I play chess. I find it quite relaxing while still challenging me.”

A small smile tugged on my lips. Chess didn’t surprise me, it was a fitting game for him, something I could see him mirroring in his everyday life. Moves and countermoves, every interaction a game to get closer to his end goal.

A loud knock sounded at the door and he shot up from his seat, his eyes hardening on the entrance to the room as he took a few steps toward me, as if to shield me from any danger.

“Three guesses as to who that might be,” I deadpanned, pouring the rest of my wine into my mouth.

As if on cue, Taft’s voice called out from behind the barrier. “Hyacinth! Open the fucking door!” he demanded with another loud bang.

A low growl escaped Landers’s lips, and I tugged on his arm. “Sit down. Please?” I urged him quietly as another fist slammed against the door and I recoiled. Landers took another step toward it before looking down at me. His eyes met mine and I pleaded for him to sit.

“Has he always treated you with such disregard?” Landers asked, his voice filled with disgust as he sat back down. Taft’s fists beat against the door again, and I flinched as Landers’s eyes flashed coldly toward the sound. Anger was boiling in him, I could see it simmering just below the surface.

“No,” I said, nervously pushing my hair behind my ears. “This is . . .” I hesitated. “A new development.”

“May I ask about your history?” Landers’s expression softened as he tilted his head, curiosity evident in his carefully articulated question.

“He has always been protective of me, but since we left he’s just been controlling and volatile. At the academy, it was comforting when he was overprotective. It was nice that somebody loved me enough to care about my well-being.” I sighed, pressing my head against the chair.

“Looking back on it, I can see now that it wasn’t about love for him like it was for me. It was about control. And I let him. I fell right into it because I loved him and trusted that he knew what was best for me. Ata always warned me if his behavior didn’t change after the first apology, he probably never would.” I winced softly as I thought about it. “But, I wanted to believe this wasn’t the kind of man he is. I should have listened to her.”

He nodded in understanding but stayed silent. I looked up at Landers, and I could feel the sadness that was etched into my smile.

“How often, at the academy, did he grab you like he did last night and the time before?”

My eyes widened before I looked away, hiding the rose hue that spread across my face. “What makes you think he has done that before?”

He gave me a soft smile and answered, in a gentle voice. “I came from a man who did not respect women, and I have lived long enough to know that when a man grabs a woman like that, publicly, he is willing to cause more hurt behind closed doors.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, I wasn’t ready for this conversation.

I wasn’t ready to say the words out loud.

I had never spoken of this to anyone.

Not even to Ata.

It was my secret, and I had promised myself to always keep it that way.

“He’s a good man, he just gets angry sometimes.” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frenzied rush, tripping over each other as I spoke. I kept my eyes glued to his face, watching as it hardened into a cold, emotionless mask, his eyes intensifying into an abyss of fury.

“What has that bastard done to you, Hyacinth?” Landers’s voice was laced with venom as he released a low guttural growl, sending shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the secrets I had carried for far too long. The room suddenly felt suffocating, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths. His question hung in the air like a heavy fog, begging for release.

The truth demanded its freedom; clawing at my insides, desperate for liberation.

“It’s not what you think,” I stammered, searching for the right words. “He just . . . struggles with anger issues.” A wave of understanding washed over him, and I could see the turmoil in his eyes as he grappled with conflicting emotions.

His jaw clenched tightly as he fought to regain control of his temper. I could see it in his face. He knew I was lying, he could read it all over me.

“Hyacinth,” he breathed, “you do not have to protect him. Not with me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. I had grown accustomed to blaming the bruises on training, or from my own clumsiness; convincing myself that it was just a part of our relationship, the price I had to pay for love—because he did love me. At least, I thought that’s what this was, but deep down, I knew that I deserved something different. I took a deep breath, steadying myself before I let the truth find the light.

“He would grab me, push me against the wall and throw things at me,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Every time it happened, he would apologize afterward, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. He made me feel so small—so insignificant.” A wave of anguish crashed over me as memories flooded back.

I remembered the way he would twist my arm until it felt like it might snap, the harsh words that cut through me like a thousand knives, the feeling of his knuckles against my jaw. And then there were the nights spent afterward, caring for the pain he caused and swearing it would never happen again. Tears streamed down my face as I relived all the nights I had wished I was dead.

“He took everything he could from me—my self-worth, my confidence. He made me believe that I deserved it, that I was nothing without him; until one day I believed it.”

Gently, Landers reached out and took my trembling hand in his, his touch comforting—grounding. His eyes softened, filled with an unwavering determination to protect and understand.

“You did not—do not—deserve to be abused. You are so much more than what he made you believe,” Landers said, his voice steady. “You deserve love, respect, and someone who wants to bring you happiness, not pain.” His eyes filled with a mixture of rage and sorrow, his fist clenching tightly at his jaw flexed.

I could see the battle raging within him, the desire to protect me conflicting with the urge to unleash his fury on the man who had hurt me.

“No one should ever lay a hand on you, Hyacinth,” Landers said, his voice barely containing the rage that threatened to spill over. “Especially not someone who claims to love you.”

Tears streamed down my face as I nodded, finally allowing myself to acknowledge the truth.

The truth that I had been living with for far too long.

The truth that love was never supposed to hurt like this.

The truth that what I had with Taft wasn’t love at all.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice full of emotion. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

He slipped from his seat and knelt in front of me, reaching out his hands and gently cupping my face as his thumbs wiped away my tears.

“Never apologize for the hurt someone else caused you. Not to me, not to anyone. Do you understand me?” My nostrils flared as I inhaled sharply. “Tell me you understand, Hyacinth.” Landers’s eyes were pleading with me as I nodded, wiping away my tears with shaking hands.

The words had slipped out before I could stop them, and now they hung in the air like a dark cloud, revealing a vulnerability I had never intended to show. I could feel his eyes on me, and my body tensed, desperately trying to compose myself before him.

Landers cleared his throat as he stood again, placing his hands behind his back and pacing in front of the fireplace. I watched his feet as his black leather boots trudged across the worn, tired rug, leaving faint traces of dust behind with each step.

He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. Then, with a frustrated grunt, he ran his hand through his ruffled hair. I could see the tension in his knotted muscles as he stopped at the edge of the fireplace. He leaned against the wall and pushed his hands into his pockets as his eyes locked on mine.

“How would you like me to handle this?” Landers’s voice was low and controlled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well”—he pushed off the wall—“would you like me to kill him?”

I blinked at him, but his expression remained stoic, his eyes cold and unamused as I realized he meant it. “You can’t be serious,” I said, sniffing away the remaining tears.

“Death would be a suitable consequence for the abuse he inflicted on you. No?” He raised a brow, and I scoffed at him.

“No, Landers. I do not want you to kill him,” I said, standing. The wine hit my head, and I stumbled slightly, steadying myself on the arm of my chair. “I can’t even believe I have to tell you that, or that we are even having this conversation.” I scowled at him as I crossed my arms, mirroring his body language. He smiled slightly and took a few steps closer.

“Then, it seems we are back to my original question. How would you like me to handle this?”

“There is nothing to handle.” My feet dragged across the creaky floorboards as I made my way to the bed. I plopped down on the edge of the mattress and let out a long sigh, feeling weary and defeated.

“No one but you knows, and I would like to keep it that way. Please?”

I could tell it pained him to agree by the way his jaw tightened when he nodded. Knowing his history, I could understand why he felt the need to do something. But killing? I could not comprehend the logic that took him directly to killing Taft.

It was at that moment the realization hit me that we had lived incredibly different lives. He had been alive for centuries, and I barely made it to twenty-one. He had fought wars and battles that were only known to me from The Stories . I could not imagine the things that this man must have done in order to survive this long—the things he had seen.

“I need to sleep,” I said, laying my head on the lumpy pillow and pushing my legs underneath the heavy quilt. I glanced at the door before meeting his eyes.

“Will you . . .” I hesitated. “Will you stay with me tonight? In case he comes back?” I felt foolish asking. I knew the protection spell that Landers cast wouldn’t allow him to step past the threshold, but after laying out our history, I couldn’t push away the fear that Taft would figure out a way to get to me.

He would always figure out a way.

Landers smiled, nodding softly as the tension fell from his body.

“As you wish.”