My fingers close around the crystal spix and I draw it close to my heart. “You lie to me without me knowing, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.”
“How do you make me believe you?”
“I’m stronger than you. I’ve been doing it longer.”
I think about something he said to me. It was at our first dinner at the Palace in Rafe. “You once told me that you weren’t like me—that you weren’t born with the gifts that I was given.”
“It’s only half a lie. I have different gifts than you. I had to see if you knew that I was special,” he says. “I influenced you then to believe I was telling you the truth. If I hadn’t, I ran the risk of you exposing me to everyone in the room. It was a risk I was unwilling to take.”
I feel betrayed. “You knew I was a soothsayer even before I caught Em Nark in his lies.”
“I did. Your mother told my mother you’d have the gift. It was a secret she only shared with me when she made me promise to find you. Arissa had said she would gift it to her strongest daughter. She said it would help her to rule Ethar.”
“Is it fun for you? Lying to me?”
“Sometimes. But, lately you see through them. It’s frustrating. It was so much easier when you didn’t know me.”
“Do I know you, Kyon?” I ask.
“More than anyone ever has.”
“Are you lying to me now?”
“I’ve never loved another like I love you, Kricket.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You know it’s true.”
“How do I know?”
“I’m there—in the future you project into—if there’s danger, I’m there to defend you. I’ve hung my happiness on what we could be. I won’t kill you to keep my secret. That’s not something I’d normally let go. Only one other person knows it.”
“Fulton?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s against the law here for me to exist. If anyone should find out about me, I could be executed. I would have no protection under the law.”
“Tell me what else you can do.”
“I can read things—objects—things someone has held. Objects carry memories.”
“Like my spix?”
“Yes.”
“And you can, what? See these memories?”
“I can walk through them. This spix was in your pocket when I brought you to the island. It’s a curious object. It whispers secrets to me.”
“What kind of secrets?”
“Your secrets,” he murmurs. “It used to belong to Charisma Sandersault. It was given to her when she won a Biequine competition. She shot every target with near perfect accuracy . . . all while mounted on a spix. Her memories of it are clear. Concise. Unguarded. Probably like her. But she gave it to you because you asked her to.”
“Did it share other memories?”
“It did. But the ones of you are murky and shrouded. You’re very guarded.”
“Do you plan to share them with me?” I ask.
“I don’t. No.”
“Why not?”
“They’re memories filled with fear of me. I’d rather make new ones with you.” He lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are coaxing as he kisses me. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I believe you once told me that you were okay with me fearing you as long as I obeyed you.”
“You’ve changed me. I want to be the favorite taste that touches your lips.” His tongue caresses mine; the sharp pleasure of it cuts through me. It steals my breath. “I want to be what you yearn for every moment of every rotation.”
“I still can’t trust you,” I reply with a whispery caress as my lips just brush his. “You’re an open wound. All you care about is revenge.”
“You’re wrong,” he insists softly, his blue eyes seeking mine. “I want to understand you—your buzz, your sting, the nectar on your unbroken wings.” He runs his hand over me and I am honey. “You’re the empress in my dreams.”
His words cause an ache deep within me. It’s an insatiable hum of piercing hunger, which only heightens when his lips descend to mine again. His hands cup my bottom as he lifts me up and takes me to the table meticulously laid out with brass cogs and winding gears from another object he’s taken apart. He slides his hand over the menagerie of metal, wiping it off the table and onto the ground. The broken pieces make garish sounds as they object to being discarded. He perches me on the edge of the wooden surface, touching me as if he knows what my body needs . . . and he does.
I don’t know which of us is the beguiled and which is the muse. “I adore you,” he whispers. I put my hand on his chest, trying to hold him still, trying to catch my breath from the relentlessness of our attraction. He grumbles, “What are you so afraid to lose, Kricket? Tell me you love me too.”
“What do you think will happen if I do?” I ask, knowing that I have no future here with him. I have no future at all.
“You’ll stay with me forever.” His intensity makes it sound like a demand. I try to repress the thrill I feel at the sound of it. I hate that I want to mean something to him.
He reaches out to undress me; his finger glides under the strap of my dress. It slips off my shoulder. His mouth teases my skin where it had rested. Closing my eyes, I lean into him. “You will stay with me forever,” he repeats. I want him to save me, but that’s like asking poison not to kill me.
“I won’t,” I reply.
I try to make myself appear cold and pale, but he kisses me again, coloring me in. His hands inch up my thighs, pushing the length of my dress up, exposing flesh as he goes. I set the spix aside and cover his hands with mine. My hunted heart beats like cornered prey. He frees his hands, undoes his belt, and then his trousers fall away. Gripping my legs behind my knees, he jerks me forward, spreading them apart. “I’m the truth you’ve been searching for, Kricket.”
“You’re a liar, Kyon,” I say against his lips as he makes love to me.
Deep down, however, I fear that I’ve come to love a lie.
CHAPTER 14
THE WORLD ENDER
The lonely dragon has found that he has a heart, and it beats within me. Kyon holds my hand in the hawk-shaped Hallafast as we approach our destination. His thumb rubbing over my knuckles, he stares at our clasped hands as if they’re the most fascinating things he’s ever beheld. Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses it. I blush and have to look away from him so I can think.
I stare out the window. Our aircraft is surrounded by Kyon’s extensive security detail. We weave between wickedly tall buildings that disappear into the darkened sky above us. “Where are we going?”
“There is a public celebration taking place in the main center of the city known as the Sylvan Square.”
“What are we going to do there?” I ask.
Kyon shrugs. “Whatever it is they do there. I’ve never been here among common people.”
“‘Common people’?” I try not to roll my eyes.
“Non–decision makers.”
“I think they’re just called people, Kyon.”