Glint (The Plated Prisoner 2)

I know the feeling.

“And does he know that you have me?”

Rip nods. “He’s aware.”

Dread becomes a hard block of ice in my gut. I don’t really know why, since I’ve been Fourth’s captive all this time. But having Rip in charge as my captor versus King Rot are two very different things. If the king knows about me, it’s only a matter of time until he figures out how he wants to use me.

I’ve come to learn that’s what men do. They use.

“If he orders you to kill me, would you do it?” I ask boldly, a curious glance cast his way.

He pauses, as if caught off guard by my question. “That won’t happen.”

My eyebrows jump up at his naivety. “You don’t know that. I’m Midas’s favored, and the two of them are enemies.” I drop my voice down to a whisper, in case there are any wandering ears. “And if that isn’t enough to condemn me, I just confessed to being a full-blooded fae, the most hated betrayers in Orea. Three of your soldiers heard me, and they could easily slip him that fact.”

“They would never breathe a word to anyone unless I ordered them to. They’re my Wrath.”

I frown. “Your what?”

He gives me a sidelong look. “Lu came up with the name years ago. But the three of them, they’re my handpicked team. They help advise, they each lead their own regiment in my army, and if I have a sensitive mission, they’re the ones who carry out what must be done when I can’t do it myself.”

I’m slightly taken aback. Not at the thought of Rip having a small team of soldiers that he trusts, but at the conviction of his words. He really does trust the three of them—I can hear it in the timbre of his voice.

Still, that doesn’t mean that I trust them.

“They just heard me confess to being a fae. You really think they’re not going to tell anyone? Not tell your king?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

He sounds so certain, and a creeping suspicion has me asking my next question. “They know that you’re fae too, don’t they?”

A single nod in the dark. “They do.”

If we weren’t walking, I’d have sat down for a moment to process that. My head spins as I shake it, lips parted with so many unasked questions. “But that’s...it’s... How?”

“As I said, they’re my Wrath, and they’ve worked alongside me for a very long time. I trust them more than I trust myself sometimes. They would never betray me.”

“But you’re fae. Oreans hate us. Even if your Wrath kept it a secret, how has no one guessed what you are? How has the truth not slipped out?”

Eyes flash over in the dark. “I could ask the same for you.”

“I stay hidden,” I counter. “Or I did before I left Highbell. But you, you’ve been notorious since King Ravinger made you his commander. How does no one see?”

His shoulder lifts. “People accept what they hear if it agrees with their predispositions. They believe I’m the made-monster of King Rot, and I let them because it suits my needs.”

“Does your king know?”

The corners of his lips tilt up. “That’s another question of the king, and like I said, we’re not playing for those.”

I chew on his words like a wad of meat, turning it over, trying to digest it all. “I hope you’re right about your Wrath.” If not, I’m screwed.

“I am. But you owe me a truth now.”

Nervousness takes off like a flock of birds in my stomach. “What do you want to know?”

“Who is your family?”

The bones of my chest seem to fuse, my breath snapped into stillness, my surprise palpable. I wasn’t expecting him to ask me that.