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wiping his hands through his hair as his eyes widen with incredulity. “They are liars and tricksters, Iris! And she said herself that if the king ordered the Vibría to attack, she’d happily kill us all to satisfy him. Does that really sound like someone you can trust?”

“That’s not quite how she said it,” I mumble, heat flushing my cheeks as my temper flares.

“It’s close enough,” Cyrus whispers, shaking his head at me. “The Vibría hold no loyalty with their king; they just want him dead. Can you really believe someone like that will suddenly be trustworthy?”

“Haven’t you asked the same thing of me?” I accuse, turning on Cyrus as hateful words spew from my lips. “You treated me like dirt in the House of Vultures, remember? But now that we have Ddraigs, now that I’ve learned we are supposed to be a couple, I’m—”

“Don’t,” Cyrus challenges, his voice softening to a lethal rasp, a storm of fury brewing in his eyes. “Don’t compare me with that monster.”

I swallow the remaining accusations, regretting that I hadn’t kept a better rein on my tongue. “That was unfair of me. I apologize,” I mumble, dropping my gaze to my toes, my arms wrapping around my middle in an effort to comfort myself.

Cyrus, however, is unwilling to let my insult go without a fight. “I didn’t torture you for pleasure like the Vibría did to me. I didn’t strike you for sport. I didn’t attempt to break your mind or shatter the depths of your soul. Did I? Can you stand there and say that anything I did in the House of Vultures was for any purpose other than protection?”

“No.” I shiver as if the icy, frigid bite in Cyrus’s words somehow chilled my blood. “Cyrus, I’m really sor—”

“A better question that I can’t help but wonder about is this: why are you so quick to trust a complete stranger over me?” Cyrus’s hands come up to grip my upper arms, holding me still so I cannot get away from his questions.

“I—” My mouth opens and shuts helplessly as I struggle for an answer. “I’m worried about the Cadogans’ slow progress with their Ddraigs, and any extra aid—even from an unlikely ally like the Vibría—is welcome.”

“That’s a partial truth,” Cyrus sighs, his eyes flickering black as his Asíle abilities read the veracity of my claims. My hands grow slick with nervous sweat under the scrutiny of his dark stare, and I wish I had some manner of shielding myself from him. “Your supposed worry over the Cadogans is where the lie lurks. Your real motives are selfish.”

Shocked by his blunt accusation, I sputter, “What? No! Not at all—”

“Liar! I see the filth of your deception expelled in the very air you breathe,” Cyrus snarls, his fingers tightening around my arms like a vice. “What aren’t you telling me, Iris?”

Cyrus’s breath comes in ragged hitches, almost like he’s become a wild beast chasing after its prey. I cower in his presence, longing to hide behind my Ddraig. However, one look at Siri, and I see no sympathy in her expression. She blames me too, siding with Cyrus in this argument, I realize, hurt putting pressure on my chest as if I’ve been physically struck a blow. “Suryc, how do I get him to stop?” I question, turning a helpless, pleading gaze to the black Ddraig beside my Siri.

“You tell the truth,” Suryc informs, his voice grim and his golden eyes full of sympathy. “It’s the only thing that calms Cyrus down when his truth-reading side takes over. Every lie will agitate him more; every truth soothes and brings peace.”

Cyrus growls, his eyes glittering like a starry expanse of the sky at midnight. “You’re not afraid that the Ddraigs and Cadogans are unprotected, are you? I think you worry over Cane. Either you fear that he will hurt you, or you wish you had stayed with him. Tell me now, Iris, which is it?”

“Of course, I worry about your brother!” I snap, wishing I could crawl away and creep into a crevice in the stones. I hadn’t realized how dependent on privacy and self-sufficiency I am until Cyrus showed he was able to strip me of those luxuries. Having him use his Asíle powers on me is worse than standing naked in front of the entire army we’ve created. The thought of giving voice to my thoughts, baring my soul to Cyrus, smothers me. The way he demands to know what I’m thinking infuriates me. And the combination of these contradicting emotions is lethal, choking me and filling my head with raging words, stifling my will to act and making my blood boil with unspent anger.

“Finish it, Iris. Why are you worrying over Cane?” Cyrus commands, his fingernails threatening to break skin with every silent second that passes.

“How can I not worry over Cane? If he finds me, he finds the Ddraigs. And if he has his way, all of us will be dead. Do you want to see that happen?” I grumble, wishing I could just rip my arms out of his grasp without feeling the pain such an action would cause. I nearly bite through my tongue in an effort to keep quiet, but the rest of the truth—the words I hate to even consider—finally escape my lips. “He’s hunting me now, Cyrus. I’m worrying over him because…I’m afraid.”

A breath escapes my lips as Cyrus nods once, seemingly mollified. “More,” Cyrus utters, and I find I cannot deny him.

“I don’t want to be the one that brings us down,” I whisper, words pouring out of my mouth almost faster than I can think about them. “I never wanted to be a leader because I was afraid I couldn’t do it. Now, here I am, trying to keep my own head afloat, and all I can do is worry that I’m going to be the reason the Carreglas is found. I’m going to fail, and the Ddraigs will be caught. I’m going to screw

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