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Fire burns in my chest, steaming my eyes. “I hate you.”

Rip tilts his head. “Your anger is misplaced, but I like it,” he says with a feral grin, sharp canines gleaming. “Every time you let it leak out just a little bit more, I can see you better, Goldfinch.”

The muscle in my jaw jumps. “You see nothing.”

“Oh, I do,” he counters, voice low, rough, like two stones clashing together, trying to ignite. “I can’t wait to see the rest of you. When you let it go, when you finally let that out, your fury is going to light up the spirit you’ve shadowed.” He looks like someone who’s won, boasting in superiority. “I hope you burn so bright that you scorch your Golden King down to ash.”

My vision flares. “Get out.”

He smirks at me, the bastard.

Smoothly, he gets to his feet, spikes unfurling from his spine and arms like a dragon stretching its wings.

He looks at me, but the tears that run out of my eyes extinguish my glare. For a split second, his face softens, his merciless eyes reflecting something other than arrogance.

“You want to know what I think?” he asks quietly.

“No.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway.”

I sneer. “Goody.”

His lips flicker with amusement for a brief moment. “You may not be behind bars anymore, but you’re still in that cage. And I think part of you wants to stay in there because you’re afraid.”

My mouth goes hard, ribbons tightening like fists.

“But...” he goes on, taking a single step forward, pressing into my space, his invisible aura licking off my skin like a testing taste before the bite. “I think another part of you, the part you repress, is ready to be free.”

The pulse in my veins feels like thunder, a crash of lightning with every blink. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To ruin me?”

He looks at me with something close to pity. “Not ruin. You forget, I know what you are. You’re so much more than what you let yourself be.”

I try not to flinch, try not to let it show just how much his words are affecting me, just how hard they’re hitting.

My chin tilts up, faking whatever confidence I can. “I’m not going to change sides. I’m always going to choose him.”

Rip tsks, a rueful, disappointed click of his venomous tongue. “Oh, Goldfinch. For your sake, I hope that’s not true.”

He walks out of the tent, his retreat making all my adrenaline flee, leaving me tired and weak.

For a moment, all I can do is stare.

Then I pick up the snowpack from the ground where I dropped it, and strip out of my dress, socks, and gloves. I take the broken peonies and slip them beneath the furs at my head, then lay my heavy body down on the pallet.

Rip’s words repeat cruelly in my head while I envision Mist’s stomach growing, Midas’s cracked reflection, my ribbons hurting Hojat.

I hold the cold cloth over my eyes and tell myself that the wetness there is from the melting snow, that the ache in my head is worse than the ache in my heart.

I guess the commander is right. I should be better at lying, because I don’t believe myself at all.

Chapter 21

AUREN

I look around the formal dining room, at the tapestries hanging over windows that stretch from floor to ceiling, the paneled walls adorned with ornamental embellishments. A chandelier hangs like icicles above us, its crystals glittering like the sparkle of a lover’s eye.

Even after months of being here, I’m still not over all the lavishness, the sheer size of the palace. It’s all incredibly elaborate, making me feel so out of place, so small.


Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy