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across the water and stone, and he lowered his
voice. Worse things than wights might come
sniffing down here. “I cared about you on that
beach. And your queen did, too.”
Elide shook her head and looked away,
looked anywhere, it seemed, but at him.
This was what came of opening that door to
a place inside him that no one had ever
breached. This mess, this hollowness in his
chest that made him keep needing to make
things right.
“Resent me all you like,” he said, damning
the hoarseness of his words. “I’m sure I’ll
survive.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Fine,” she said,
her voice brittle.
He hated that brittleness more than
anything he’d ever encountered. Hated
himself for causing it. But he had limits to
how low he’d crawl.