Bring Me Their Hearts(107)

The longer it goes, the more he’ll despise me. THE MORE I’LL DESPISE MYSELF.

“What did you think of my speech?” He bridges the silence. “The whole time I was giving it I could practically hear you laughing at me for being too serious. I know it’s a little idealistic, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to say. I just never had the courage to. But then I met you, and I learned—”

Lucien’s midnight eyes skitter away from my face. “I apologize. I’m getting ahead of myself.”

There’s another long silence, fraught with tension so thick I feel like I’m breathing molten steel.

“Is Malachite here?” I ask. Lucien shakes his head.

“No. I told him I wanted to be left alone. He doesn’t listen, usually, but when I told him you and I were meeting, he agreed. Not that I’ll last long. I’m sure he’s making his way toward us as we speak, broken leg and all.”

Then I have to hurry.

“For what it’s worth,” I start. “I think you would’ve made a wonderful king.”

His gaze narrows, but only barely, smile still golden on his lips. “Would’ve? What are you talking about?”

SO WILLING TO TRUST ME, the hunger practically salivates. I draw near him, unable to conjure up even a halfhearted sultry look. My skin begs to feel his again, to feel the humanity thrumming through his veins and mine in tandem. His fingers, so long and slender—

TAKE THEM OFF ONE BY ONE. MAKE HIM SUFFER AS HE HAS MADE YOU SUFFER—

Lucien is perfectly still. “Lady Zera—”

“Just Zera,” I insist softly, walking ever closer to him.

“Zera.” He half swallows my name, and it sounds wonderful. “If you hate me for what I did—for that kiss—if you don’t like me at all, please. Just tell me. The wait has been agonizing—”

I laugh darkly. “It has, hasn’t it? Three years for me. Perhaps a few days for you.”

His brows knit now, more the suspicious and bitter Lucien I’m used to. “Three years?”

I can practically hear my freedom beating in his chest. I can taste it—so sweet and light, so free of this terrible guilt I’ve been carrying around for so long. This terrible monster. His heart will absolve me. His heart the only thing I want—

PULL IT FROM HIS CHEST! The hunger screams dementedly, its voice drowning out everything else—Lucien’s words, his face. All that swims sharply before my eyes is the exact patch of leather over his chest where his heart beats. The hunger maddens—I can feel my mind slipping from my fingers like muddy water. The dried livers did nothing to satiate me. I’ve hungered and hungered for so long—

“Zera? Are you all right?”

My eyes flicker up for just a moment to lock with his. His smile still rests on his face. He has no idea what dark, ugly thoughts race through me, and yet he’s smiling at me. Still. A bitter fury runs through me.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m all right,” I grit.

“Don’t speak nonsense—”

“I’m a tool,” I interrupt him with a snarl. “A tool doesn’t have to be all right. Everyone keeps asking it, as if they really care, as if the well-being of someone like me actually matters to them! They have no idea! They’re ignorant little idiots, so willing to trust a girl in pretty dresses with pretty words. DON’T YOU GET IT? You were so clever and distrustful when we first met but now, now you just have that stupid smile on your face. What—did I break down your fragile, self-inflicted barriers? Did your sick infatuation with a monster of a girl blind you?”

I throw back my head and laugh at the look on Lucien’s face—utter confusion. Hurt. I’m hurting him, but with every word I say I’m tearing myself to ribbons. Every word I say is meant for myself, for the past me who’s being so cruel just by pretending to enjoy his presence. Pretending to love him. Because that’s all it was, all it can be—pretend.

I expect him to shout back, to insult me in return. I don’t expect his arms, rough and warm, to encircle me in a single sweeping motion too fast to avoid. He holds me close, the smell of rainwater filling my senses, and the heat of him pressing against every cold part of me.

“You’re not,” he murmurs into my hair. “You’re not a monster of a girl. You’re smart, and so very kind—”

How dare he. HOW DARE HE! The hunger amplifies my fury tenfold, stoking the fire inside me instantly into a blazing inferno.

I push him away as hard as I can, screaming, “What do you know? You’ve spent your entire life in that wretched city, wallowing in your pity and the shadow of your dead sister! You know nothing about me! You of all people don’t get to judge my monstrosity!”

Lucien is stock-still, face frozen in the triple moonlight. And then he melts, a glare in his eyes and his smile gone.

“You— Why are you being like this? You’re like a whole different person.”

“I was never the person you thought you knew,” I sneer. “That girl doesn’t exist. She was there for one purpose, and now it’s over. The girl you fell in love with—that smart, kind thing—is dead, AND I KILLED HER. I’m killing her right now, in front of you, so you get just how badly you fell for a trick. An illusion. Something that isn’t real. Gods help you if you ever do ascend the throne—if a backwoods tool like me could fool you, who knows what someone really good at acting could do.”