A pricking sensation ran down my neck, I was supposed to be controlling the situation not the other way around, getting unmanned by a gentle, not firm hand, wasn’t in the plan.
I forcefully choked out a laugh between retches. “If the next vial makes my hair fall out, I’m suing. I have nice hair.”
She snorted, despite herself. “Good thing you’d still be pretty without it.”
"Devastatingly,” I managed to grind out. “I’m aware I’m walking, talking sex. Don’t let me lose my best assets, wife.”
Another wave hit. She didn’t flinch. Just kept holding my hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she’d done this before. Like she might do it again.
No. I shove away the errant thought.
This wasn’t real marriage.
It was a game. Sort of.
A game I’d agreed to.
And in the end only one of us would truly win. As long as I got the information I needed, I didn’t mind the casualties.
At least that was what I told myself so I felt better. So I could sleep at night. So I didn’t actually fall for her or believe my own games.
When the agony in my gut finally passed, I sagged back against the tub, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
She didn’t let go.
“Why?” she asked.
Just that.
Why.
I closed my eyes. Considered the truth. Then chose which parts to bleed.
“You ever see someone you love die right in front of you?” I asked quietly, “and know—without a shadow of a doubt—that the people who did it don’t even care?”
Her grip tightened.
“I mean really know it,” I continued. “Not suspect. Not guess. Know.”
She didn’t interrupt.
“That kind of thing rewires you,” I said. “You stop believing in justice. Or mercy. You start believing in access.”
I glanced up at her. Her face was shuttered, unreadable now. Guarded. I wondered how much harder I could probe before she broke. I wondered how much more she’d hide from me before she started to actually trust me. “To infiltrate. To gain information. To get close enough that people stop lying to you because they forget you matter.” I shrug. “Knowledge is power.”
She swallows. “So, you married me for access.”
“Yes.”
Clean. Honest. Easy.
I could give her at least that.
“Not just one family,” I added begrudgingly. “Five. And this little poison experiment?” I gestured weakly toward my stomach. “That gets me entrée into his.”
Her brow furrowed. “Cassian.”
I didn’t correct her. I should.