Page 100 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

I flopped back on my bed, in my sandals and my dirt-dusted mourning dress, and splayed my limbs over the silky softness of the duvet, sweeping my arms across it like I did in fresh dustings of snow as a child.

My moment of peace didn’t last long, though.

Or, at least, I didn’t think it did.

Time had a way of passing strangely like that.

Bang, bang, bang, my door rattled.

“Enora?” came a muffled but warmly familiar masculine voice.

I sighed and propped myself up on my elbows, taking a glance around.

To my shock, my room was full of bright light pouring in through the windows. It had barely been dawn a minute ago, I was sure.

Bang, bang, bang, came the pounding again.

And again.

I finally pushed myself upright and trudged towards the door.

“I know you’re in there, Enora. Open the door.”

Another round of hinge-rattling knocks. The poor thing was going to end up on the floor at this rate.

“Oh, just fuck off with the knocking,” I called back. “I’m coming.” It took me a second longer than I would have liked to turn the lock. I cracked open the door, peering outside, and said, “What do you⁠—”

My eyes settled on a mess of white hair, a single moss-green eye, and an eyepatch.

I stiffened.

There was no way in any of the hells I was making the same mistake as I had with Maksym, letting him strong-arm his way into my space. I slammed the door shut far harder than it deserved and flung the lock back in place.

“Oh, no. No. No. No.” My jaw was clenched so hard, my teeth ached. “You can fuck right off!”

To be safe, I trudged back across my room, picking up the vanity chair with every intent to wedge it under the handle and ensure there was no way he could interrupt my peace. I’d lock the windows next. Tie a scarf around the terrace door handles if I had to.

When I turned back, the chair clasped in my hands, Kieran was standing in the middle of my room.

No belts and pouches, no draping layers beneath a long jacket. No hood either. It was just him, wearing a dark shirt rolled up at the sleeves, plain pants to match. Like he’d just stepped out of his bedroom back at Caenleigh.

“What the fuck,” I breathed, blinking at him. “How did you…?”

He took a couple of cautious steps towards me, and the chair slipped from my hands with a thud, landing on its side.

A remorseful wince tugged at his mouth.

“Stepping, remember? And I know you don’t want to…” He sighed. “But we need to talk about…everything.”

That did the trick to shake me out of the stupor I’d found myself in.

This wasn’t some hazy frost- or dream-induced version of him I was seeing; the motherfucker had just used his magic to enter my room uninvited and was intent on acting like it wasn’t a problem.

With every step he kept taking, I backed away from him.

“No, we don’t.” My bed had to be coming up behind me soon, so I reached a hand back, trying to feel for it. “I have made it abundantly clear that I have no interest in talking to you.”

He stopped and sighed, raking a hand through his hair before he continued towards me. “And I’ve made it abundantly clear that we need to, Nor.”