Casimir stared at me like I’d lost my mind. Probably wondering if I really had sustained a head injury.
“Gods, Casimir,” I said, wiping my tears after my laughter had died out. “If I’m so doomed, why are you even trying to help me? You say I can’t fight, and we both know I can hardly fight off glamours without puking myself to death or getting a concussion.”
“How can you even ask me that?” He looked affronted. “Do you really believe I’d break my word so easily?”
I hesitated, wondering how far I dared push him. “Break our bargain, you mean,” I corrected. Because this thing between us wasn’t a mere promise, it was a magically binding contract. “You don’t want to incur the consequences of breaking a bargain bound by magic.”
He stood abruptly, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing with barely restrained fury.
I stared up at him from the floor, surprised by the fervor of his response.
He glared down at me as if I’d just accused him of the worst kind of betrayal.
I tried to apologize, but my tongue was a slab of melted wax, fumbling over the words I could not take back. When he spoke, it was with a lethal calm that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“You think I’m only helping you because of our bargain,” he repeated, his expression darkening.
He allowed the statement to hang in the air for far too long, and I felt the tension between us balancing on a razor’s edge, teetering toward disaster. I bit the inside of my cheek, gazing back at him determinedly.
“Yes,” I admitted.
I’d heard enough about Isolde to wager that she was his primary motive in stopping Devereaux. She was the reason he’d made the veilbound bargain with me in the first place. Was he truly going to deny it?
“I know you’re only doing this for Isolde,” I said, ignoring the way his eyes flashed in anger. “This is all about revenge for you, isn’t it? You want to get back at Devereaux for whatever part he played in her imprisonment.”
He was so shocked by the accusation that the rage, which had so brutally contorted his features, momentarily slipped from his face. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing all of this for… her?” His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he wanted to break something. He was breathing heavily, his eyes simmering with something dark and unstable.
I gave a slow, intentional nod and watched his anger increase twofold. However long he’d managed to tamper down his outrage, it was now rising swiftly to the surface, a volcano on the brink of eruption. Darkness seemed to ripple from him in waves, as though the very air was clouded with his fury. His searing gaze scorched through me, branding me, and I knew that this time, I’d pushed him too far.
The warning from theBook of Ereboscircled through my mind.
I’d run from him if I were you,and again, my father’s hateful, prophetic promise:that temper of yours is going to get you killed one day, Little Arrow.
The walls of the Grotto narrowed in my vision as dark shadows crept in, blotting out the grimy, dilapidated details until just the two of us remained. Casimir closed his eyes, reining himself in just before his self-control slipped irrevocably. Maybe to keep from smashing something more breakable, he seized the nearest iron candelabra and bent the rusted metal into a twisted husk. I stared at the hunk of iron as it crashed to the floor.
“Don’t,” he breathed, and my gaze snapped to his dark eyes, “presume to know my motives, Farrow.”
I tore my eyes away, refusing to look at him.
“I am not only helping you to save Isolde. That is not my only purpose here, in spite of what you may believe.”
His eyes were twin flames, burning with indignation. “And in spite of your…weaknesses—” I shot him a resentful look “—you are not doomed. I will notallowyou to be doomed. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you survive this.”
It almost sounded like a threat.
My heart thundered erratically in my chest.
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he forced his eyes away from the window and turned to face me. I allowed his umber gaze to scorch through me, probing for signs of deceit and eviscerating every inch of me in the process.
My gaze fell to the hunk of twisted metal lying a few feet away. August was right. Casimirwasdangerous, and yet, I was unable to leash my tongue.
“Look, I didn’t mean to imply you were doing this for the wrong reasons,” I began.
If he’d justtellme about Isolde, we could do away with all of this uncertainty.
“It’s just—you’re constantly reminding me of my temper and telling me how difficult I am. So I thought I’d do you a favor by giving you the option to end your obvious misery?—”
“Enough, Farrow,” he growled, but the tension in his shoulders relaxed slightly.