The cell door prodded open. Grayson tensed, though it wasonly Fletcher. The old guard’s focus lingered on Mia’s shakingform and his mouth tightened. He shot a look at Tyrell. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Grayson firmed his hold on Mia when she shuddered against him. “Remove him before that changes.”
Fletcher grasped Tyrell’s wrists and none-too-gently dragged him from the room. He paused in the hall to close the cell door, sealing Grayson and Mia inside.
Mia’s hands fisted Grayson’s shirt and her tears splashed against his throat. Each one cut him like a blade.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice too rough to be comforting. “I’m here.” He kept repeating the words, but they weren’t enough. They’d never be enough. Because the horror she’d justgone through was his fault. All of it was his fault, because shewouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him. Henri never would have locked her in this cell if Grayson had just embraced what he’d always been destined to be—a fates-blasted demon.
Mia clung to him as if her welts and bruises didn’t hurt at all, though he knew they must cover her body. It was clear she had fought Tyrell. Fought so furiously he’d had to tie her up.
From the corner of his eye Grayson saw the belt, still curled against the floor. As a child, Mia had been struck with a belt. Had Henri told Tyrell that?
He tightened his hold and Mia stiffened. He froze, fearing he’d hurt her.
“Oh, fates,” she breathed. Her fingernails dug into his arms and she pushed away. Her eyes fastened on a point beside them on the floor and he followed her gaze to the bloody dagger. He must have dropped it.
Mia’s mouth trembled. “Did he stab you? Where?” Her hands smoothed frantically over his chest and sides, and though herfingers found specks of blood, she couldn’t find a wound that accounted for the blood on the dagger.
She wouldn’t find any.
Grayson’s ears rang with the pleas of the old man he’d killed. “He didn’t stab me.”
Confusion sparked in her eyes. “But—”
“It’s not my blood.”
Mia stared, chest rising and falling. An angry welt rose on her cheek and a muscle in his own cheek jerked. He reached out, fingers running along the edge of the red line. Mia shivered at the ghosting touch and Grayson’s hand dropped, his fingers curling against his knee. “I’ll kill him.”
Her hands tightened around his biceps. “Grayson, where did that blood come from?”
Adrenaline still coursed through his veins and broke through the shields he normally held in place for her. “I’m the Black Hand,” he said, his tone dark. “I don’t even know how many lives I’ve taken. I enforce every law my father makes and everyone outside this cell is terrified of me. And they should be.”
Mia was pale, making the welt on her face stand out vividly.Her voice trembled a little, confusion in her eyes. “You only do what you have to do. You don’t have a choice.”
Grayson’s skin felt too tight. Everywhere she touched him, he burned. He tried to pull away but she clutched him tightly.
“Don’t do this.” Her voice wavered. “Don’t pull away. I love—”
“Don’t say that!”
She tensed, no longer breathing.
He looked right at her, ignoring the flash of pain that came when he saw the wetness in her eyes. “You don’t want to love me, Mia. The blood on that dagger? It’s from a man I just killed. He was defenseless. He begged me to spare his life but I still killed him.”
Mia stared, stunned. Her hands were banded around his arms, but she was frozen.
Grayson bit out a hard laugh, the sound cold and brutal. “I’m a murderer. I’ve ripped families apart and destroyed lives, but none of that comes close to the worst thing I’ve done. Do you want to know what that is?”
Her chin wavered. Tears sliced down her face, wariness and apprehension lurking in her gaze.
“My father told me the truth,” Grayson said, the words sticking painfully in his throat. “I know why you’re here. You were imprisoned as a way to control me. You’re in this cell because of me. Everything you lost—everything you’ve suffered—it’s all because of me.”
Horror pulled at her features. “You . . .?” She couldn’t even finish.
Grayson’s insides hollowed. He had nothing left. The anger, frustration, self-loathing and guilt that had propelled every sharp word was suddenly gone. He’d lashed out at her with the darkest parts of him and she would never look at him the same way again.
This was the end. Everything between them was over. Butwhile it had been necessary to make her understand, he didn’t want to see her revulsion.
He moved before Mia could shove him away. He tugged his arms free, her hands falling without resistance. He slid back, drawing one knee up to his chest with an arm slung over it. He glanced at the blood still on his glove and his fingers balled into a fist. He ducked his head, spreading his other hand over his aching brow. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. “I swear I didn’t know the truth until tonight. If I’d known, I never would have kissed you. I’m sorry.”
Silence reigned in the cell and the stillness made his stomach cave. It would be easier if she yelled at him. Ordered him out, or hit him.
Her dress rustled as she straightened on her knees and Grayson dropped his chin further, cringing as he awaited her attack.
One of Mia’s hands settled over his fist and the other slid into his hair, her thumb brushing against his aching temple. Her words were weighted with emotion. “There’s nothingyou could do to make me hate you, Grayson. No matter how hard you try to push me away, it’s not going to work.” Her voice cracked and her hold on him tightened. “I love you.”
A
