Page 65 of The Vixen

What would I even want to know?

His devious plans? The tools he’s using to trick me?

Laughable. It would take torture to extract that from him … and I don’t want to torture Sawyer. I don’t even want to hurt him.

We can be enemies. We can have secrets.

But tonight, in this bed, it would be nice to have something. Some resemblance to a white flag.

“You first.”

I peer up at him. Blue waves of his irises lull me until my shoulders relax. I don’t see deceit or malice or anything else along those lines.

He turns his head more toward me. “When our roles were reversed, I told you a great deal about myself. Real stuff… Everything you told me was a lie.”

I shake my head. “Not everything.”

I told him more than I ever planned to. More than I evershould have.

“The point is, I can’t trust you either, Luna. If I can’t trust you, I can’t be trustworthy… I’ll tell you something real. But you have to go first.”

Letting out a sigh, I lower my eyes. I trace the valley between two ribs, my nail drawing a fading line to his side. If it were me, I’d shiver… Sawyer doesn’t flinch.

His point is fair.

I lied about who I was. I gave him every reason not to trust me.

How can I demand his loyalty and respect given the circumstances? What right do I have to be offended by his attempts at manipulation—especially considering my own success?

As inaccurate as itfeels, I’ve objectively been the victor of manipulation thus far. Even now, he’s playing nice to avoid an execution that was never going to happen. I rode his tongue because I knew he was desperate enough to let me.

Who is the real monster here?

“A truth for a truth… Yes?” I ask.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No time for thought.

He’s going to lie.

It isn’t until I open my mouth that I realize I plan to do the same. My nail pauses midway up a rib while I let the words freeze to my tongue.

If I know he’ll lie…

And he knows I’ll lie…

What is the point?

My eyes close as I release a breath. I lay my hand flat on Sawyer’s chest and speak the first truth that comes to my mind.

“My name isn’t Luna.”

I don’t know why I expect the air to feel different, but for a moment, I lay surprised. Breaths move freely through my lungs.

“It isn’t the name I was born with,” I clarify. “Thorne gave me that name when we met. But my birth name is Daemonium. It’s Latin for?—”

“Demon,” Sawyer finishes for me, his voice low. But not pitiful.