Chapter 16 · Blade to the Beast

The tip of the bone blade sat right over his heart. I could feel it pounding up the handle and into my wrist.

"Bite me again," I said, "and I carve it out."

Vane didn't move.

His mouth was still an inch from my neck. His breath was wet and way too hot. Sweat ran off his jaw and dripped on my collarbone, and I flinched.

He noticed. Of course he did.

"You hid a blade," he said. His voice was gravel. Half of it wasn't human. "In my wall. In my own room."

"You locked me in your room."

"Two days."

"Two years, Vane." My hand shook, and I hated that. "Don't talk to me like you're the one who got robbed."

The fire popped. Pine smoke, iron, and the sour smell of his fever. It was all so thick I tasted it on my tongue. The furs under my back were soaked through. He'd shoved me down here when the heat took him, and now I was pinned between a stone hearth and a wolf who couldn't say my name without choking on it.

His eyes were wrong.