A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(38)

I snort. “The person who gave me nightmares was punished a long time ago. Kill or be killed. That’s the way of my world.” I roll onto my side to face him. “I’m still here.”

His mouth opens, but I cut him off. “Drop it, Beta Sinta.”

His eyes are black in the moonlight. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“I have a name,” he finally says.

I stay silent. His name doesn’t change anything, and Beta Sinta is what he is.

He lifts up on one elbow and props his head in his hand, clearly with no intention of dropping it. “There were others, though. People who hurt you.”

It doesn’t sound like a question. I wouldn’t answer anyway. I roll over, turning my back on him and closing my eyes. A face fills my mind—beautiful, olive skin, dark hair, eyes as cold as ice. She laughs. “You are me. Don’t even pretend that you’re not.”

I shiver so violently that Beta Sinta must see it. The scars on my arms burn. Chills run through the rest of me. I’m not her. Not yet, anyway. The problem is, I might be worse.

It takes a long time for sleep to come. Close to dawn, I wake up way too hot with a warlord plastered to my back. One heavy arm is draped across my waist, his big hand splayed possessively over my stomach, tucking me against him.

My heart slams in my chest, and a frightening, warm sensation infuses that empty part of me. Something in the warmth flutters, cautious, like a nascent bird’s wings. Like a fledgling, though, I don’t know whether I’ll crash or fly.





CHAPTER 10


It takes twelve days for the attack to come, long enough for my enemies to cross Fisa, Tarva, and half of Sinta at a grueling pace. I was wrong about twenty men; she sends thirty. “I told you we should’ve run.”

Kato and Flynn adjust their weapons, mace and ax ready. Carver draws his sword, his eyes as sharp as his blade.

“Thirty to four,” Beta Sinta says. “I’ve seen better odds.”

I gape at his casual tone. He gets all worked up over my being snarky or not controlling my temper very well (at all!), but this doesn’t faze him? What is wrong with him?

“Thirty to five,” I correct, itching for my knives.

“They’re Fisan.”

“I know.” Their snow-white standard undulating with blue waves brings on a mess of emotions. “So?”

He turns in the saddle. “Not interested in returning to your home realm?”

No.

Really, no.

A thousand trolls? worth of no.

“If I wanted to be in Fisa, I would be.”

He faces forward again and kicks his horse. I grab his waist, and we gallop for higher ground.

“I thought you weren’t one of us,” Beta Sinta calls over his shoulder.

“I’m not. Maybe you’ll kill each other off, and I’ll get away.”

“This could be your lucky day,” he says somewhat grimly.

It’s not. I know it the second I see who’s leading the Fisans. In all the realms, he’s one of the few people who actually wants me dead, not just captured. And here I thought she’d send someone to bring me back. I might have to reevaluate my worth.

Beta Sinta stops and squints at the riders, focusing on their leader. “Gods, what did you do? Eviscerate his mother?”

I laugh. It’s high-pitched and completely inappropriate, but I can’t help it. He’s right about the way Otis is looking at me. Hate, hate, hate. It doesn’t bother me. I’m pretty sure I hate him more. “People don’t think when they’re angry.”

Beta Sinta grunts. “You should know.”

My nostrils flare. I’m nothing like Otis. If I were, I’d still be in Fisa. “This isn’t the time for snide remarks. They’re going to massacre us.”

“They can try.”

I smile at that. It’s more a baring of teeth.

Beta Sinta glances at me. “I thought there was no us.”

Did I just use the u-word by accident? “Untie me,” I say, ignoring what I can’t explain and don’t want to think about. “Give me my weapons.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You can’t fight tied up like this, and neither can I!” I feel him hesitate. “Oh, for the Gods’ sakes! I give you my binding word I won’t escape during the fight.” That doesn’t mean I can’t escape later, and I’d rather stay with Beta Sinta for now than battle Otis like a sitting duck. At least the Sintans don’t want me dead.

Gray eyes lock on mine. “You won’t try to escape?”

I shake my head, unable to look away. “No. I swear it.”

“Ever. You won’t try to escape me ever. Not as long as I live.”

My eyes widen, and I gulp down a scathing retort. “That’s a lot to ask,” I say roughly.

“I have a lot to lose,” he answers just as roughly.

My heartbeat pounds against my ribs. Otis or Beta Sinta? Fisa, possibly death, or this, whatever this is. “It’s out of my power if I’m captured.”

His expression hardens. “Then I’d better not let that happen.”

I swallow the sick lump in my throat. As far as choices go, it’s not the hardest I’ve faced. Poseidon set us on this course. Would my God Father steer me wrong? He sent Beta Sinta to me with an oracular dream. What am I supposed to do with him? Probably not let him die. Or get killed myself.