Chapter Nine
He drank the tea, mulled over plans, slept on the floor with his magic laid out around him, and had far too many inappropriate dreams about a certain bronze haired female.
Rion woke before sunrise and raced from the room, desperate to separate himself from her. He just needed fresh air, a moment or two to collect himself.
His mind refused to settle. Rion ran the perimeter of the city twice before he could think clearly. He moved through a series of training exercises until his muscles shook, then marched back through the city gates.
The guards were the same as before, with the exception of an added female. All nodded and this time none appeared glassy-eyed or inebriated.
Familiar scents of eggs, steak, and bagels wafted through the air and Rion found himself drifting to a storefront. He swore the poor female inside would die on the spot. She greeted him with a smile on her face but couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as he purchased a few pastries from the window shelf.
Mimicking Selina’s actions, Rion left a generous tip. Even so, he'd choose a different shop tomorrow. Saoirse had been poisoned once before and she’d taught him all the ways to avoid it.
Her first tip: avoid routine.
It was still early by the time he returned to the inn. A few patrons remained, some still dozing at various tables with their mugs in hand. They’d have a raging headache when they woke.
The male who owned the inn gave Rion a subtle nod in greeting and appeared to relax when Rion headed straight for the stairs
Selina was in the bathroom when he entered.
“I’m back,” he announced, just so she wouldn’t exit in anything indecent, though, from what he’d already learned about the female, she might do it anyway just to get a rise out of him. He sighed. Perhaps he wouldn’t survive this mission after all. Not if she had any say in the matter.
Moments later, Selina emerged, her hair damp and, thankfully, clothes on. A casual outfit similar to yesterday’s. One look at him and she wrinkled her nose. “I hope you plan on showering.”
He smirked. “Maybe the governor would be less inclined to follow us through the manor if I didn't.”
“You will shower, or I’ll find someone else to go in your place and make up a grand excuse about him representing you.” Rion chuckled, then she eyed the bag. “What’s that?”
“Breakfast.”
Her eyes lit up. “You brought me breakfast?”
“I thought it would be impolite to eat in front of you.”
“Gods bless whoever taught you manners.”
“Best behavior, remember? I have an uncle to impress.”
She strode over and snatched the bag from his hand. “Which ones are mine?”
“All of them.” Her eyes widened again and Rion scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling like he’d gone overboard by purchasing six pastries. “I wasn't sure what you liked and I ate mine on the way here.”
“Probably stuffed it down your throat like a heathen. Typical male.”
He ignored the jab. “You have errands, right?”
She nodded, having already taken a bite of a jelly-filled roll. Powder covered her lips and he had to look away again as he tried not to imagine wiping it off with more than just his finger. Gods save him.
“I’ll see you this afternoon then.”
***
The morning passed without incident. Rion went to another shop for lunch, paying special attention to those who cooked and prepared his food. He wasn’t sure the male cooking had ever moved so fast in his life.
Rion missed having Saoirse at his side. She’d always put people at ease with her quick charm, a quality he didn’t seem to possess, even with extra coins.
He circled the manor again, then toured the city, marking abandoned buildings and the dark streets that civilians seemed to avoid. People stared and whispered, but none confronted him. He ventured back to the market where those working the stalls were a bit more . . . inviting. He was certain their uneasy smiles were due to Selina and the hope that she’d visit again.
Rion searched for her companions but they'd vanished entirely. He wondered if they'd try to ambush him at some point. He supposed it would wait until Selina made up her mind about killing him.
She was so . . . casual about it. He’d thwarted several assassination attempts. She knew it, everyone knew it, and yet she found it appropriate to joke about such things as if they didn’t matter. Maybe to her they didn’t.
Rion found a spot in the shade and opened a book he’d purchased from a vendor that morning.
Hours flew by with the breeze rustling his hair. Birds and small animals played in the tall grasses and he stretched out his legs, shifting positions until it was time to meet Selina. Just because they were on a mission together didn’t mean he was required to spend every waking moment with her.
The inn was far busier when he reentered and the sharp scent of alcohol assaulted his delicate senses as he pushed through the heavy doors. Rion ignored the lot of them and marched up the stairs.
Selina stood beside the bed when he entered.
He blinked. His throat went dry.
She was bent at the waist, one leg hiked up on the edge of the bed as she fought with the buckles of her shoe. No, her heel. Gods, she was actually wearing heels.
Unable to tear his gaze away, Rion traced the exposed muscle of her calf. Higher. Her thigh flexed and the long dress fell around her legs, the fabric moving like water.
A gold belt wrapped around her midsection. She smiled at him and it took every ounce of Rion’s self-control to remain where he was. To not step closer and move the strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Her beautiful eyes, emphasized by the kohl he’d often seen other females wear.
“What do you think?” She spun in a circle, looking herself over.
He swallowed once. Twice. She’d softly curled the ends of her hair and she wore gold cuffs around her wrists. A matching necklace dipped toward her chest, resting perfectly in the V formed by her dress. He didn’t allow himself to look lower.
And the earrings. The merchant had indeed finished them.
Her smile faded. “Is it too much?”
“No,” he said a little too fast. “It’s . . . perfect.” And gods, he meant it.
That smile returned and Rion never wanted it to fade.
She hadn’t needed to ask. She knew exactly what she looked like and the response she’d get from him and other males.
Selina pointed to a jacket laid out across the bed. “I purchased you a few things too, since everyone is pretty much terrified of you. I think I got the sizes right.”
He hadn’t even thought—he needed to get himself together. They had a job to do. Rion tore his gaze from her and gave Selina a wide berth as he circled the bed.
“We can’t have you looking like, well . . . that,” she gestured to him, “when you’re supposed to be on vacation with your new girlfriend.” The term made his heart leap into his throat. A mission. A mission. A mission , he kept repeating.
Rion picked up the black button-up shirt and matching pants. The opposite to her white. A balance in the universe. Maybe when they returned to Nàdair, Rion would ask to court her. She’d promised to introduce him to other females, but standing in this room, with her dressed like that, Rion decided he didn’t want other females. He wanted her. If she’d have him.
He draped the garments over his arm and turned toward the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Your hair.”
He half-turned. “What about it?”
Selina did nothing to hide her grimace. “When was the last time you cut it?” He shrugged and she sighed. “I thought so.” She pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer beside the bed.
Rion stepped back, all thoughts of courting gone in an instant. “You are not cutting my hair.”
“Relax, I’ve cut lots of hair. I won’t mess it up.” She stepped forward and Rion retreated, his lips curling back before he loosed a soft snarl. She paused and stared at the sand rising between them.
Selina sighed again. “Killing you with a pair of scissors wouldn’t be a very epic story, you know.”
“I don’t care.”
“Fine.” She tossed the sharp object and Rion caught them by the handle. “Cut your own hair.” She turned away and he relaxed a fraction. “I’m in an expensive dress, you know; staining it with blood isn’t exactly high on my priority list.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, Rion closed the door to the bathroom and breathed deep. Images of Caol flashed through his mind. Images of his father. He beat the ghosts into submission and leaned against the counter.
His reflection stared back. Judgment filled those green eyes. Judgment and the stain of everything he’d ever done, his fault or no.
Rion looked away.
It took him thirty minutes to finish his hair. He dusted the strands off his arms and neck, then dressed in the clothes Selina had purchased for him. He’d pay her back later. Or Alec would. He was certain Selina was the type to count every penny spent on anyone other than herself.
When he exited, Selina was seated on the bed, her ankles crossed as she flipped through the book he’d been reading earlier. She held it up. “What is this atrocity?”
“A book on strategy and the way—”
She held up a hand. “A nonfiction reader. Enough said.” She stood and moved closer to examine him. “Not bad. The back is a little uneven though.”
“It’s fine.” He seriously doubted anyone would be paying much attention to his hair.
Selina shrugged and picked up a tiny white and gold trimmed bag, the strap a thin piece of leather, before draping it over her shoulder. “Shall we?”
He relaxed his facial features and donned the mask of the male he was to play tonight. Not that it was much of a mask. Selina earned more than a few glances as they descended the stairs that had Rion snarling softly in warning. She patted his shoulder and when they exited, Rion extended his arm like a gentleman.
Selina gave a warm smile, a show for those currently gaping on the streets, and slid her arm through his.
The sun was still high overhead, the heat a bit unpleasant with his long sleeves.
Selina kept her voice low. “How do you normally greet officials?”
“I don’t. Saoirse usually handles all the talking.”
“Well, this ought to be a pleasant evening. Watching them feel you out will be the highlight of entertainment.”
He grimaced. “You said you wanted a distraction. You brought one.”
“That was my plan.”
“Just don’t take too long in the bathroom later.”
“I’m a lady, I can take as much time as I please.” He wasn’t sure she qualified for the title. “And if they grow antsy about my absence, you can just come get me.”
“What happens if we’re both caught?”
She huffed. “You paint too many scenarios.”
“I like to be prepared.”
“What happened to spontaneity?”
“We are on a critical mission, in case you forgot.”
“You’re no fun,” she huffed. “If we’re caught, then you better get busy with your hands and make it look good.”
He blanched. “You want me to—”
“It’s critical ,” she said in a mocking tone. “If the situation calls for you, you best treat me as if I’m your newly found mate and you can’t resist my alluring charms.” He wasn’t sure if he could resist now. If he got another taste of her . . .
Something in her body language shifted. He met her gaze and found . . . sorrow. “I’m sorry,” she said, quickly looking away, “I didn’t mean to imply—I only meant I won’t throttle you if the situation calls for it.”
Pain flared through his chest. A new kind of pain he’d never needed to process. He was the only Fae on the continent that wasn’t allowed the deepest connection their species could experience. A mating bond. A mate. An individual who would know him on the deepest of levels. Someone who wouldn’t need to be afraid of him because they would know how he felt.
Even if he and Selina’s companionship developed into something more, he wouldn’t be her mate. And if that male ever came along . . .
“Props to me for ruining the evening.”
“It’s fine,” he said a bit too quickly.
“If it’s any consolation, most never find their mates anyway.” It wasn’t, but he nodded. “I, for one, hope I never find a mate.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want someone pining after me just because some bond tells them to. It just seems . . . I don’t know, forced, I guess. If a male wants to be with me, then they better be willing to put forth some effort.”
He smiled. “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.”
She playfully nudged him, then the pair found themselves before the estate’s gates.
A pair of guards, both dressed in black, bowed low. Their gazes lingered on Selina and one’s face flushed when she flashed him a bright smile.
He’d learned how good Selina was at manipulating people by watching her in the market. She knew exactly when to smile, when to bat her lashes, when to expose a bit more flesh. She was doing all of that and more now.
The pair walked down the short path that led into the manor and voices echoed from within. The servants bowed and offered a flute of bubbling liquid. Both took them. Neither drank.
They were twenty minutes late, a deliberate delay on Selina’s part so they would be the center of attention upon arriving. There was already a small crowd present.
Selina wanted the governor to see Rion with a female on his arm. To have a conversation in front of all the guests so they would let down their guard.
Conversation halted in a wave.
The first couple saw him, then his magic. The female stepped behind her companion, though he looked ready to bolt and leave her behind. The second couple stared, frozen with fear at the sight of his sand. It was subdued, at Selina’s request, but not entirely gone. Just to be sure everyone knew who was in their midst.
Rion spotted the governor before Selina did. Her gaze was preoccupied with the food lined along the rear table. Tonight, she was a female who cared little for politics, especially when there was food and art to enjoy.
The governor spread his hands and smiled wide. “Welcome, Lord Rion, to my humble home.” He sketched a bow, probably the only time this male ever bowed to anyone. If he held any resentment for the gesture, he didn’t show it.
He too wore a long sleeve button-up shirt, though his was sage green. The male had enough gold across his person between rings and necklaces that Rion was certain he never went anywhere without an escort.
Rion nodded in greeting, playing his normal role of disinterest. As he’d told Selina, Saoirse had done most of the talking when they’d last visited.
“It’s been an absolute delight already,” Selina replied, her eyes alight as if she’d never visited a foreign city before. The male’s gaze slid to her, his cobalt eyes gliding down her form and lingering on the curves of her body. The precise ones that had caught Rion’s eye.
She pretended not to notice as she beamed at the male and took in her surroundings. Only Rion knew what she was really doing.
The male’s gaze traveled lower and as his lips parted, Rion couldn’t hold himself back. He loosed a low growl that had the governor’s attention jolting back to him. Those in the vicinity stepped back. A tray of glasses shattered, two females screamed, and fear blasted through the room.
Everyone froze, the governor included, as they stared at The Demon and the sand circling Selina.
But Selina, in all her grace, looped her arm in his. She patted it before turning back to meet the wide-eyed governor’s stare.
“Forgive him, he can be a bit possessive.”
The male blinked in surprise. “I—” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, My Lord. I didn’t realize you were together.”
Rion’s tone was colder than he meant. “Why else would I have a female with me?”
“Right.” The governor glanced around as if someone might rescue him from the awkward position he’d put himself in, but whoever usually bothered to do so didn’t step forward. “Rest assured, I meant no offense.”
The room waited. Waited to move. Waited to die. Waited for the abomination of Brónach to do all the heinous things he was known for.
Instead, Rion met Selina’s gaze and forced a wicked smile to his lips. He pulled her close. “So long as your hands don’t wander, I won’t ruin the evening over a lingering gaze. She is quite lovely to look at.”
“Impeccable taste. I would expect no less from a Lord of Nàdair.” Selina stiffened slightly against him. Not from his hand around her waist, he realized, but at the male’s comment. As if she were a prize to be won.
The governor gestured for a wine bottle and a servant strode forward reluctantly. The male topped off Rion’s glass, not seeming to realize he hadn’t drunk anything, then lifted his flute of bubbling liquid and raised his voice. “To good fortune and many years. May the gods rain blessing down on us all.”
The crowd murmured and lifted their glasses. Rion waited until the male had nearly drained his flute before taking a sip himself.
Selina did the same.
An awkward silence fell over the space, then soft music started from another room. A few began whispering amongst themselves. One male downed an entire flute of alcohol before pouring another. Good, just what they wanted.
The governor cleared his throat once again and gestured them toward the table of food. Selina hadn’t taken her eyes off it since their arrival. Rion wasn’t sure that was part of the fa?ade
“I hear you’ve come on pleasure rather than business.”
“A little of both.” Not a lie, but he had to be careful with his words. “Selina,” he angled his head toward her, “wanted to visit a few of the southern cities.”
The male waited for Rion to continue. When he didn’t, he took it upon himself to push the conversation along. “There are many great things in the south, as I’m certain Lord Rion knows. The coastline is especially beautiful this time of year. Do you plan on traveling that far?”
“We might,” he said. Selina was too busy stuffing her face with a lemon cake.
“What is the business part of your trip, if I might ask?”
Rion could have ignored the question altogether. Instead, he used a bit of information he’d discussed with Saoirse before coming. Just in case he needed a cover. “My sister tells me some of the cities are behind on their ledgers and that our treasurer is throwing a fit about not being able to balance them.”
The male blinked. Then blinked again. “The ledgers?” His eyes widened in surprise, then his shoulders dipped with relief.
Rion made a show of sipping his drink. “I’m not sure which cities in particular, I was simply told to pass the word along.”
“I’ll be sure to have my staff send updates, just in case they didn’t arrive and we’re on her radar.”
“Saoirse will appreciate it. Alec can be a pain when affairs aren’t in order.”
The male stared at him again, as if astounded someone would dare to speak about the High Lord in such a manner. “I imagine our High Lord has the best of intentions for our great nation.”
Selina snuck another chocolate tart onto her plate, content to let the males converse as she looked around. Even so, she didn’t wander far.
Rion glanced at those still eyeing him. “There’s something else.”
The male lowered his glass. “Oh?”
“There are rumors circling about a rebel faction on the rise.” Selina stiffened ever so slightly and tilted her head toward him. If he’d bothered to meet her gaze, he knew she’d be glaring.
The male’s face paled. “Rebels. Against the crown?” Rion nodded. “I’ve heard a few things, but I haven’t seen any official statements released.”
“You’re right.” Rion eyed the male. His heart had quickened a fraction. He was definitely involved. Or feared being accused of involvement. Rion kept his voice casual. “Alec didn’t want to instill panic, especially over a rumor.” He shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”
“I see.” The governor swirled his drink. “I suppose even Nàdair’s elite don’t get a full vacation.”
Rion loosed an exasperated sigh, as if the whole ordeal was beneath him. “You have no idea.” He needed to visit the lake house with Saoirse.
Silence stretched between them, but before the governor could open his mouth, Selina waltzed over and complained in a whiny voice, “Must you males always talk about such things? We’re supposed to be on vacation. Can we not simply drink and pretend the problems of the world don’t exist?”
The governor sketched another bow. “My apologies, My Lady.” He glanced to Rion again. “It appears I haven’t been a good host. Your guest is already bored with me.”
“She bores easily. It’s exhausting.”
Both the governor and Selina stared at him, their lips parted. A scowl appeared on Selina’s face and Rion gave her a playful smirk.
She turned from him as if he hadn’t spoken and pointed to one of the paintings along the wall. “This piece is exquisite, would you care to tell me about it?”
“Allow me to give you a tour.” He extended one arm and glanced to Rion for permission. Selina waited as well, such was her role. Rion nodded and the pair were off. “That piece is from the first—”
Rion turned away, uninterested in the history of anything in the room. He eyed those who weren’t drinking. Their hands still lingered too close to their weapons. Those unarmed avoided his gaze and he laughed under his breath at how much they feared a simple conversation with him.
Not that he wanted one. In fact, he didn’t want to be here any longer than was necessary. But Selina had to wait until they were drunk. Beyond drunk. Which meant they had a few hours to kill.
Rion took up residence beside a pillar and stared out the window. He watched the governor from the corner of his eye and found the male watching him in turn. His hands never strayed from Selina’s arms.
Three guards stood next to the stairs. Even if the guests were too drunk to notice her absence, the guards wouldn’t be. They’d clock her every move. He estimated she’d have less than five minutes to search through whatever room she chose. Her comrades would have to take the others.
Rion clicked his tongue. They should have just broken in from the start instead of wasting time socializing. It would have taken him seconds to knock out the guards. They’d have been in and out before the staff even knew they were there.
But if this wasn’t the central hub, then whoever led the rebel operation would know they were onto them.
Patience wasn’t his strength.
Dinner came quickly. Selina sipped her drink and dug in. The roast chicken was delicious. He’d served himself from the main table, despite the servants offering.
Selina brushed her hand across his often and made a show of leaning against him as the governor and others talked about everything ranging from the weather, to food, to politics.
It was the world Rion had lived in as a child and a world he hated now just as much as he had then.
Selina’s voice grew louder as the night wound on. Her movements more sloppy. She was an excellent actress. If he hadn’t seen her sneaking half empty flutes back onto trays or outright dumping them into potted plants, he might have bought her ruse.
She waited until the sun had disappeared before inquiring for the bathroom. A servant pointed to the one downstairs, but she whispered an urgent need and made a show of dancing on her toes.
They glanced to the governor who nodded his permission, then the servant led her toward the stairs. Selina stumbled once and Rion caught her arm, inquiring if she were all right like the dutiful boyfriend he was. The guards watched, their gazes wary.
Five minutes. That’s all he’d be able to give her.
She made a good show of tripping up the stairs before disappearing into a dimly lit hall. Rion shook his head as if annoyed with the state of his companion.
The governor busied himself with another couple and Rion leaned against the wall nearest the stairs to wait for her, doing his best to appear indifferent. A servant offered him a glass from the tray they carried. Rion took it, then watched to be sure the other patrons were drinking from the same tray before he dared a sip. He figured they were probably too drunk to plan his assassination without risking the health of others, but one couldn’t be too careful.
Three minutes passed.
Then four.
The guard at the top of the hall peered down it and Rion made a show of meeting his gaze and looking toward the same hall as if impatient.
Another minute.
The guard exchanged a look with another downstairs.
Rion sighed, set his flute down on the edge of the railing, then proceeded upstairs. The male at the top stiffened, but Rion only had to glance at the guard before he pointed him down the hall. Rion followed her scent, but it didn’t lead to the bathroom. It led around the corner and three doors down. She’d left the door slightly ajar.
He pushed it open with the tip of his boot and found her leaned over a cherry wood desk, silently rummaging through a drawer. There were papers scattered across the surface and more littered the floor.
Rion glanced down the hall again before closing the door in his wake. “Find anything?” he whispered.
“No,” she hissed, closing one drawer before moving onto the next. “There’s a safe behind the large picture frame downstairs though.”
Rion arched a brow. “How do you know?”
“Because the paint on the lower corner is rubbed off. Someone moves it often.”
“That’s probably where you’ll find what you need then.” He wasn’t sure why she’d even bothered with the room.
Selina placed her hands on her hips and huffed. “I know, but getting—” She was in front of him before Rion could blink. Fast. So much faster than he’d seen her move before. He stepped back, but then her lips were on his, her hands trailing down his chest to his belt. Then somehow, those hands were on his skin, running up his back, tugging him close.
He thought he’d prepared himself, thought he could control the urges, but then her tongue glided into his mouth and he was hers. Totally. Irrevocably.
He pushed her into the desk, knocking whatever sat there to the floor. He didn’t care, not as he lifted one hand to cup her face and knot his fingers through her soft hair. Rion angled her back, just the way he wanted.
Desire flooded his body. He wanted to rip the dress to shreds and claim her right there on the table.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and Rion leaned in, grinding his hips against hers, moving on instinct and nothing more.
She sighed into his mouth and his hand traveled down her body to the slit in her dress. His fingers grazed her thigh—a throat cleared by the door.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Rion pulled himself away from Selina and turned to the guard standing there, his hand resting lightly on the knife in his belt.
Undiluted rage blinded him. Rion’s sand rose and his lips pulled back to reveal razor sharp fangs. Then he moved. In less than a second, he had one hand around the male’s throat, lifted him from the floor, and slammed his body so hard into the rear wall that the plaster cracked. It spider-webbed outward and toward the ceiling. Pictures fell from their hooks and Rion’s magic crawled across the male’s body, pinning his arms and legs in place.
The male’s mouth gaped, his eyes wide. Stunned.
A singular thought pulsed through Rion’s entire being.
Mine.
This male wouldn’t touch her, wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t desire her.
A pair of hands grabbed the back of his arm, tugging, and Rion spun to find Selina staring, bewilderment written across her face and . . . there it was.
He’d tasted it from her once before, but she couldn’t hide it now. The familiar coppery tang invaded his nose, addled his senses. Fear poured from her, even as she stood in his magic.
Rion’s eyes slid to those down the hall, more guards, a few guests, and the governor himself. Half were shaking, too afraid to speak or move. The other half were ready to fight. He growled again. Let them. If a fight was what it took—
“Enough.” Rion blinked. Looked at Selina. Her tone sounded as though she’d ordered him to stop several times already. He surveyed her form. Her swollen lips, the disheveled dress. No blood. He hadn’t hurt her. “Let’s just go.” It was almost a plea and Rion wasn’t sure if it were real or not.
What she’d just done—that had felt real. So real his mind couldn’t think around the taste of her.
A mission. He didn’t want it to be a mission. Not anymore. And that was the whole problem. In a matter of days, she’d broken through the defenses he’d put in place after Caol. It had been so easy for her. He’d let her get close; one more step and she’d be able to put that knife in his back and he’d never see it coming.
It needed to end now. All of it. Her. Him. The mission. Everything. Let them try to find the rebels their way. He’d take on the task himself. Separate. Work in a different city. He’d already memorized the map.
Rion met Selina’s gaze again, then let the male fall to the floor. He scrambled away from Rion’s magic. Judging from the smell, the male had wet himself.
His jaw clenched, then Rion pushed past Selina and stormed down the hall. He didn’t care what she did from here. He just needed to escape.
The guards reached for their weapons.
“Move,” he growled, his own power rising in answer.
They scrambled back, pressing themselves against the wall. Wisely, the governor said nothing as Rion passed and raced down the stairs.
Selina paused behind him. “Thank you for having us,” her voice shook. He still didn’t know if it was fake. “I apologize for the . . . interruption.”
Part of Rion wanted to turn around and show them just how much of an interruption he could be, but he kept walking.
He needed to leave. He’d allowed himself to get too involved. Maybe he’d head straight back to Nàdair and tell Alec to shove working with others up his pompous ass. Let Selina feed him her own story.
Maybe she could use her manipulative skills on the governor after his episode. Play the role of poor abandoned girlfriend. He was beginning to think bedding a male for information wasn’t beyond her. She’d likely done it before.
Rion shoved the thought from his mind. He breathed in the cool night air, letting it quell his all-consuming rage. He didn’t expect to hear Selina’s heels clicking behind him seconds later.
He turned slightly, watching her hold up the edge of her dress as she ran for him. The outside lights cast a soft glow on the street, bathing her in an ethereal light. Guilt washed through him. Guilt and shame.
She scowled when she finally caught up to him. “What the hell was that?” she waved her arms behind them. “You just alerted every single one of them about why we’re here.”
Her voice echoed far too loud. Rion looked up and down the empty street. “Congratulations, you’ve just alerted the rest.”
He tried to turn, but she ran to his front, that earlier fear gone. Surely she couldn’t have faked it. “What part of this do you not understand?” she hissed. “We had a perfect opportunity and you go and ruin it by getting all pissy?”
Rion swallowed his anger and the shame that came with it. “They’re involved, what more is there to know?”
Selina placed her hands on her hips. “Information,” she emphasized. “We need information. We need to figure out who’s leading them, and now they’re probably scrambling to burn everything they possess thanks to your stupid questions.”
Rion shrugged. “Take them out. Make it look like an accident. Problem solved.”
“It’s not that simple and you know it. This group has been growing for years. They’re bigger than anything Nàdair has ever faced and they’re attacking Brónach’s citizens. We’re one tiny step short of an entire revolt. Killing them is just going to create martyrs and rally more to their cause.”
Rion crossed his arms. “That’s not my problem.”
“Not your—what do you mean not your problem? I thought you were here to protect the crown. To protect your sister at the very least. What do you think will happen when they overthrow the city? You think they’ll just let her live?”
“If anyone touches Saoirse—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she waved her hand. “You’ll kill them. But even you can’t take on the entire continent.”
“I have so far.”
She rubbed her temples. “You’re being petty.” He shrugged and made to walk away. “Where are you going?”
“Leaving.”
“Why?” He clenched his jaw, unwilling to answer. Childish. He was being so childish and stupid and—
“Because I can.”
“This is ridiculous. You can’t just abandon a mission in the middle for no reason.”
“I thought your team was one of the best in Nàdair,” he challenged. “Surely you can handle a few rebel forces on your own. Or are you as incapable as you seem?”
She bared her teeth at him. “The whole reason Alec send you on this mission was to see whether you're capable of following orders if he’s going to keep—” She stopped. Her eyes widened. Lips parted.
“Care to finish that sentence?” She swallowed once.. “Keep me alive? Is that what you meant to say? To see if I’m worthy of the trouble? To see if facing Saoirse’s wrath might be preferable to dealing with me?”
Anger rose in him anew. Perhaps his other teams hadn’t been trying to kill him on a whim. “Nothing’s been an accident, has it? Every step was planned by him. My own brother.”
He scoffed. Selina’s team was different for a reason. She was different because the other attempts had failed. Alec was trying to lure him in. To play dirty in order to be rid of him. “Glad to know where he and I stand now.”
Selina cupped one of her elbows, looking for all purposes ashamed. Rion didn’t give a damn. “I wasn’t supposed to say that. I drank too much at the party.”
“He ordered you to do it, didn’t he?”
She didn’t answer at first, but her refusal to meet his gaze said enough. “He mentioned if the opportunity arose.”
Rion let a mirthless chuckle escape, then ran his hand through his hair. And he’d fallen for it. Hard. He’d learned nothing.
“So that’s what this whole thing has been about, huh? The teasing, the flirting and kissing?” He shook his head. “All bait to lure me in.” He looked at her again. “You’re quite good at it, you know. You just about had me.”
“No, Rion, I—”
“No?” He raised his brows. “Which part is wrong exactly? The teasing? The kiss?”
“I tease everyone.”
“Before or after you kill them?”
“Look, I—”
He growled again and she stepped back. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve seen the way you act around other males.”
“Because they’re comrades.”
“And I’m a target.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
A breathless laugh. “Are you going to try and say I’m special? That it’s different with me? Yeah, try again.” He stepped away and she seemed to notice the way his sand had worked itself into a frenzy. She didn’t try to approach again. “I’m going back to Nàdair. Finish the mission or don’t, it’s not my concern anymore.”
“You can’t just go.” Her voice was so soft. Another lure.
“I suggest, for your own safety, you stay the hell out of my way.”