She wanted to understand him.
Bryse snorted, shaking his head slowly. “Of course, there’s always the chance that I might escape,” he went on. “And let’s be clear: when I get out of these cuffs – and I will get out of these cuffs – my first priority will be killing you.”
“Why?” she murmured.
“Why what?”
Turning away from him, Anna shuffled back to the wall and brushed a lock of damp hair out of her face. “Why do you hate me so much?” she asked. “Because I took your command?”
Bryse was a figure of mist in her mind, a figure who struggled against his restraints and bared his teeth. “Because you’re a traitor,” he replied. “And I’ve got no tolerance for traitors.”
“So, you blame me for what Jack did.”
“Bleakness take Jack Hunter,” Bryse spat. “If he were here, I’d put a bullet through hi
