Chapter 63

Thea’s POV

More than anything, I wanted to stride across the table and clamp my hands around her throat. The idea of crushing it filled me with perverse delight. No— I shook my head against the surge of bloodlust. It would be far more gratifying to rip her still-beating heart from her chest, watch it pulse in my palm, then carve her body into shards and scatter them throughout the castle grounds, leaving bloody trophies for Draven to discover. The mere thought flushed away my rage, replacing it with a darker thrill.

But the moment I broke free of that fantasy, my hatred roared back. I remembered the one rule I could never violate: I was forbidden to harm her, not a single hair on her head. That prohibition was law.

I took a slow breath and bottled up my fury, forcing a small, predatory smile.

“Mark my words, you tramp,” I said softly, leaning forward on the polished wood between us. “You won’t live to see the day you speak of.” I let my voice drop to a