97. Rorax
Rorax had never thought of herself as mentally slow before, but she couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, no matter how many times she blinked.
This particular horse stall was empty except for a Death Prince kissing . . . the Death Prince.
Rorax stepped back.
Piers was shirtless, and Conrad’s hands were roaming over the exposed flesh as he sucked Piers’s tongue in his mouth.
Brothers. They were brothers. Weren’t they brothers? No wonder they were hiding in the stables, incest was an egregious sin in the Realms.
She took another step back.
“Conrad,” Ayres barked from somewhere to the side of her.
The two men in front of her sprang apart, panting.
Piers made a strangled noise when he saw her, but she didn’t look away from Conrad’s glare as the blond man wiped over his lips with the back of his wrist.
He stared back at her, his lust dissipating and disdain replacing it in his dark charcoal irises.
Charcoal.
The same color as . . .
She took another step back, and it was almost like she could feel the puzzle pieces come together in her head. The prince she had come to know here at the castle had golden eyes. Flashy, beautiful, golden eyes.
“Rorax,” Ayres snapped. “Look at me.”
She could hear Ayres”s footsteps getting closer, so she dashed the opposite way, turning to face him.
“Do not fucking touch me,” she bit out at as his hand reached for her.
Ayres stopped moving, but she felt his power ripple slightly around her.
His power. His endless, dangerous power. The black mist and the red lightning. The way his tattoos glowed and moved, the long vertical lines running down his back . . .
Gods above. She must be blind.
“You’re the Prince,” she snarled at Ayres. “Not Piers. That’s why everyone follows your command and is worried about your safety.”
Ayres looked like he was made of stone. Right before she had died defending him in Helfast his power had surged and all the men chasing them had died.
“You’re the Death Harbinger.”
No one moved a muscle for a long moment as the silence hung between them.
Then Piers chuckled from the closet where he still stood half naked. “Damn, she’s good.”
From the corner of her eye, Conrad scowled at him, but Rorax’s eyes were pinned on Ayres.
He was breathing hard, indecision and anger, and . . . something else was warring on his face. “Rorax, come here.”
She took another step back and bared her teeth at him. “If you have lied to me to get to some unnamed goal, I will kill you.”