Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he silver dress glitters in the white faelight as I spin in a slow circle in front of the mirror to check my appearance. This is the dress that I wore to the fake winner’s ceremony when Draven first snapped the collar shut around my neck and shattered everything I thought I knew about the world. And it would be so much easier to hate this particular piece of clothing if it wasn’t so damn beautiful.
The dark silver bodice is covered in tiny white gems, making them look like sparkling stars. Patterns made with gleaming silver threads decorate the sheer fabric of the sleeves that end below my elbows, and the flowing pale silver skirt ripples around my legs when I move.
It’s the most beautiful garment I have ever worn in my entire life. Part of me knows that I’m supposed to hate it because of what it symbolizes. But the other part of me is desperately yearning for a future where I can buy clothes like this for myself and wear them whenever I want instead of always having to wear the same shirt and pants that I have worn for the past decade.
Straightening my spine, I give myself a nod in the mirror. I’m going to make that future happen. Some day. But first, I need to get through tonight.
After brushing my hands down the smooth skirts of the dress, I leave my bedroom behind and walk out into the living room.
Draven is already there. He is once again wearing his black dragon scale armor, and as usual, his hair has been swept back from his face as if he has just carelessly run a hand through it. His massive black wings are also visible behind his broad shoulders.
Coming to a halt on the floor, I just watch him for a few seconds as he opens a small black box that he has put on the desk before him. Something made of silver glitters inside.
“No cape this time,” I remark, and nod towards his armor.
He straightens and starts turning towards me. “No, no cape?—”
His words are abruptly cut off mid-sentence when his breath hitches the moment his gaze lands on me.
Sparkling warmth floods my entire body at the look in his eyes. He is staring at me as if I’m the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
Then he snaps out of his stupor and gives his head a hard shake as if to compose himself. While blinking a few times, he clears his throat.
“No,” he repeats, still not sounding quite as composed as before. “No cape this time.”
My gaze drifts over the armor that covers his muscular body, and that sparkling warmth suddenly drains from my soul to instead be replaced by a sobering realization.
During the commencement ball for the Atonement Trials, Draven was wearing fancy formal clothes and a cape. A cape that would get tangled up in his wings if he tried to fly. He explained that it was a statement. A way of showing others that he is so powerful that he wouldn’t even need his wings to win if someone tried to attack him.
But now, he’s not wearing a cape. He’s not even wearing fancy formal clothes. Instead, he is wearing armor. Which means that he considers this banquet so dangerous that he can’t afford to waste any of his advantages.
My heart patters in my chest as I take in his appearance again. He hasn’t strapped his sword to his spine, but there is a more discreet dagger in his thigh holster.
What in Mabona’s name are we about to walk into? I thought this was just supposed to be a fancy dinner.
“Come here,” Draven says.
Blinking, I yank myself out of my worried musings to find Draven twitching two fingers at me. For a moment, I consider ignoring his presumptuous command. But in the end, I decide to choose my battles instead of being stubborn for no reason, so I walk over to him where he’s still standing by the desk.
Silver and white gems glitter in the faelights as he lifts a breathtaking necklace from that small black box before him.
I arch an eyebrow at him. “I hate to break it to you, but that necklace doesn’t match your armor at all.”
A surprised laugh rips from his throat. He blinks and flicks a glance down at his own chest, looking startled by the sound that came out of it. Then he gives his head a couple of quick shakes while letting out another breath of amusement.
Locking eyes with me, he tries his best to suppress a smile and instead scowl at me. He fails miserably. “It’s for you, smartass.”
“Oh.”
“Turn around.”
My heart is suddenly pounding in my chest as I turn so that I’m standing with my back to him instead. Every nerve in my body is now on high alert.
Soft fingers brush over my shoulder. A shudder of pleasure rolls through my whole body as Draven draws his hand over the back of my neck, moving my hair to the side. I draw in an unsteady breath as he drapes my hair over my shoulder instead. Every time his fingers touch my skin, it sends lightning crackling through me.
Cool silver meets my suddenly heated skin as Draven positions the necklace around my throat. His breath caresses the back of my neck as he bends down a little to fasten the clasp. Another shiver ripples down my spine with every warm breath that dances over my skin.
“There,” he says. “Done.”
But his hands linger on my shoulders for another second. My heart thumps hard. Then he lets his hands slide off my shoulders. I turn to face him.
Holding his gaze, I try to read the expression on his features while I reach up and brush a hand over the beautiful necklace now resting around my throat.
“This doesn’t change the fact that I’m wearing an iron collar too,” I say. But my voice doesn’t come out nearly as hard as I had intended it to. Instead, it comes out sounding more like a confused question.
Pain flits across Draven’s face for a moment. “I know.” His eyes are serious as he holds my gaze. “But it hides it a little, which will help stop me from murdering someone tonight.”
My mouth drops open slightly, but before I can say anything, he breaks eye contact and instead rakes his gaze up and down my body. And the sheer possessiveness in his eyes when he does it makes heat pool at my core.
“Fuck,” he growls. “That dress should be black.”
My heart skips a beat. But all that makes it out of my mouth is, “So why isn’t it?”
He drags his gaze up to my face again while I realize something that I hadn’t noticed until now. And before he can say anything, I blurt out that realization.
“In fact, nothing in here is black.” Raising a hand, I motion at the rooms around us. “All the furniture, the couches, the armchairs, even your bedsheets, are silver.”
He draws his eyebrows down in a scowl. “They’re not silver. They’re dark gray. Which is halfway to black.”
A laugh of disbelief escapes my mouth. “You can’t be serious.”
“We don’t have time for?—”
“Why is nothing in here black?”
“For the same reason they made you wear silver during the commencement ball.” Before I can so much as open my mouth again, he reaches up and grips my chin while locking hard eyes on me, as if to truly make sure that I understand what he’s about to say. “Now, do you remember that deal we made?”
The sudden seriousness in his tone makes a pulse of dread flutter through me. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“When we’re in public, I need to pretend that you have already broken me and act as if you’re my master.”
“Or…?”
“Or they are going to try to break me themselves.”
“Exactly. This is the first real social gathering where Bane and Jessina can observe us, so they’re going to scrutinize our every move. Do you understand? If they’re going to believe that I’ve already broken you, you need to really sell it.”
My pulse thrums in my ears, but I hold his gaze. “I understand.”
“Good.” Releasing my chin, he lets out a long breath and rakes a hand through his hair. “Then let’s go.”
Anxious worry sluices through my veins as I follow Draven out the door.
I have a really bad feeling about this.