Eiravyne closed her eyes, drawing a shaky, uneven breath.
Before she could turn away, Ilkar's hand shot out, his fingers closing around the side of her neck, enough to choke her and hold her against the mattress, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I should have known," he said quietly, his voice far more frightening than a shout. "It was always going to end like this."
His grip tightened to keep her from looking away.
"I should have killed him back then," he continued. "The day you told me he was 'like a brother' to you."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"You told me your mother took him in. Raised him under her roof. Turned him into a blade to be wielded whenever your family needed one."
His golden eyes never left hers.
"And I was a fool for believing it would end there."
He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"He ruined you ."
He let go of her neck, but he didn't step away.
Ilkar remained so close she could feel the warmth of his breath.
