Page 102 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
Mayrie. Cadan. Tavin. Thurl…
Although I tried not to think about Sepher’s confession, my pencil had other ideas. I found myself sketching his eyes in the margins of the page—the way they’d looked up at me as he’d knelt at my feet. The pain in them.
The love in them.
Like I’d summoned him, the door opened, and he entered wearing a smug grin. “I have to say, I can’t believe you’re actually staying here and not trying to get to the theatre to practise.”
I gave him a sidelong look. “It’s called malicious compliance.”
He scoffed and sauntered over, tail held high. “I’ve been thinking…”
I groaned and closed my sketchbook before he could see its contents. “Didn’t I warn you about that?”
“Like I said the other day—rebel son.” He raised his hands as if helpless to change it. “Besides, this is something that would benefit you. I was talking to Celestine, and it sounds like one of Luminis’s healers could regrow your teeth. Not guaranteed, but if they come and have a look, they’ll be able to tell us whether it’s possible.”
A nice idea, but… I shrugged, flicking through my sketchbook. Another look at the stage layout—check I hadn’t missed anything.
“Or… don’t you want them back? I thought you’d like the idea of being able to face my kind with sharp teeth of your own.”
“I just don’t see the point.”
He narrowed his eyes, giving a cautious smile. “Was that an intentional pun?”
“No. I just…” With a sigh, I closed the sketchbook again. “Do you not understand?”
“Not until you explain, no.” He sank into the seat opposite and folded his arms.
I wasn’t going to get rid of him until I gave an explanation. Fine.
“I know you’ll be there, and you think you’ll be able to keep me safe, but I’ve spent a decade—”
“Yes, yes, I know. You’ve spent a decade planning your perfect revenge, and I fucked that up by not being the one deserving of it. You’ve said this a hundred times, Zita.”
“Then,Sepher, you should know by now that I never expected to survive taking you down. And I don’t expect to survive this.” I hugged the sketchbook to my chest. “I can feel it in my bones.”
“Huh.” His head cocked. “And here I was thinking you’d spent all this time thinking about vengeance and still didn’t understand it comes at a cost.”
“A cost? Yours against me didn’t.”
“My backside would beg to differ.” He winced as he shifted in his seat, and I tried to ignore my pang of guilt. “But no”—he shook his head—“I didn’t have the revenge I swore against the witch who cursed me. I’ve given it up.”
A sudden attack of conscience?
That wasn’t something I expected from the man I loved.
No. Not that. I didn’t—couldn’t. Yes, he’d allowed me to escape the deadening cage I’d lived in for so long. But that wasn’t because I loved him… rather… maybe I felt something for him because he’d freed me.
But that still wasn’t… it wasn’t the thing I’d worked for so long. It wasn’t the thing I owed Zinnia—the thing I’d promised her.
And now he was trying to get me to give up on that because he wanted me to himself.
The edges of the sketchbook bit into my fingers. “You’re just like Eric.”
He flinched in a way he hadn’t when I’d whipped him with his belt. He flinched like I’d torn him open and raked claws over his very soul.
It lurched in my throat, but I didn’t let it stop me.
“You don’t want me to have what I need. Here you are trying to come between me and my revenge, just like he did. I warn you now, Sepher, stay out of my way. I won’t let anything stop me. Not even you. No matter how much I…” I bit back the words before they could leak out. I didn’t feel them. I didn’t even know why my tongue tried to sneak them out.
