Chapter 30 Nox
Nox
The second Scarven saw her, I knew this was a bad idea.
This was the plan. This was my plan. She had to get his attention. She had to intrigue him.
But when I saw her in that dress, all I wanted to do was grip her in my claws and fly us far away from this place. To shield her from the hungry, predatory gazes in this room. To rip out the eyes of every man who so much as looked at her.
Was it rational? Absolutely not. But the dragon stirring in my chest didn’t care.
Scarven straightened when he saw what I’d been staring at. I knew it would work—anything I showed a modicum of interest in, he immediately homed in on. I wished I could say that had been my strategy, but truly, I wasn’t able to look away from her.
I didn’t know what this woman was doing to me, but I hated it.
Her hips swayed as she descended the steps to the lower level of the ballroom.
That red dress hugged her curves, with thick hair pinned over one shoulder to expose the side of her neck.
I hadn’t been able to get her scent out of my head, the way it felt to run my nose along the curve where her neck met her shoulder, to feel her chest rise and fall beneath me.
My body remembered her even as I forced my mind to forget. It was intoxicating. It was maddening.
It was dangerous.
I took another sip of my drink, my fingers clenching around the thin glass.
“I’ve heard stories about your land and its Shifters, but I must say, no one said anything about the silk and chandeliers,” Lord Silenus from Mysthelm was saying as he glanced over all the resplendent decorations. He seemed impressed, if not a little stiff.
Scarven hummed. His deep, rich voice filled the air as he asked, “And did you expect us to dine in caves, Your Grace?”
Silenus cleared his throat and dabbed a handkerchief over his balding head. “Of—of course not, Governor. There is so little we know, obviously. My eyes were opened to your kind when the lovely Empress Aris visited us this summer. Such a shame she couldn’t meet us here.”
Scarven’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Rissa before he schooled his features. “Yes. A shame. I hope you enjoy your evening, Lord Silenus. If you’ll excuse us,” he said with a dip of his head. I nodded to the lord, then followed Scarven.
“Who was that woman?” he asked sharply.
My stomach tightened. “What woman?”
“Don’t be coy. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.”
I shrugged and took another drink. “She was beautiful. Hard not to notice.” I motioned toward the hordes of women in elegant ballgowns. “But there are plenty of beautiful women, if that’s what you’re after. Take your pick. I’m going to go fraternize.” I gave him a lazy half-smile.
“Keep an ear out,” he said. “We don’t want these foreigners getting too comfortable.”
I raised my glass to him, then sauntered off to chat with various members of Mysthelm nobility.
I hardly heard a word anyone said to me.
I simply smiled and nodded and exchanged pleasantries, keeping my focus on Scarven’s movements.
I was painfully aware of every step he took toward Devora, every table he made conversation at as he moved closer and closer to her.
We were as prepared as we could be. Silas had even cast a spell that covered any trace of mine or the others’ scents, so Scarven would have no idea she’d spent time with Shifters. But there were still so many ways this could go wrong.
And so many people who would pay the price if it did.
“You look like you need something stronger than wine,” an unfamiliar voice said. An elbow hit mine, and I looked over to see a man perhaps fifteen years older than me, with long black hair and a hooked nose.
I acknowledged him with a stiff nod, then moved to get around him.
“Nox, it’s me,” he mumbled under his breath. “Everett.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve certainly looked better.”
He raised his glass to his lips. “And you look like you’re about to punch a wall.”
“This place puts me on edge.” My eyes roved over the crowd until I found Scarven’s tall frame. He was right next to the table Devora lounged at.
“I know what you mean,” Everett muttered darkly. “Knowing they’re all down there somewhere while we’re up here drinking and dancing…” He trailed off and downed his glass.
The prisoners. Somewhere on these grounds lurked more of Scarven’s prisoners. I felt it too. The overwhelming guilt, the urge to act, the need for justice. It pounded in my head like a drum.
“We’re coming back, Everett,” I murmured into my drink. “This is only the beginning. We’ll get them out.”
It’s what we kept promising ourselves when we were stuck in this in-between phase and couldn’t risk taking action.
I knew he’d told his girl he was coming back for her.
I imagined it devoured him, the idea of being so close and yet so far away.
It was probably why he’d requested to come tonight—to feel closer to her, even if there was nothing he could do.
“Showtime,” he said softly, breaking me from my thoughts.
Scarven prowled to Devora, who was standing at a table by the grand staircase. His hand landed on her lower back as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, and my vision tunneled.
“It’s a rare pleasure to meet someone I haven’t already grown bored of,” he said to her, so low I had to strain to hear with my Shifter senses.
She turned, assessing him from his feet up. Her gaze flicked to his eyes, and she smiled a sharp, wicked grin that had me holding my breath.
“It sounds like you should keep better company, my lord,” she said, spinning her empty glass between her fingers. “If you’ll excuse me.” She dipped her head, then twisted away from him and made her way to the nearest drink station, her hips swaying in a deliberate rhythm.
“Oh, she’s good,” Everett muttered.
She was. Just the right amounts of confidence, defiance, and reverence. In this moment, she held power over him. The difficult part would be keeping it.
Sure enough, a few moments later, he reappeared at her side. I turned my back so he wouldn’t catch me watching, but my Shifter hearing was tuned in to their conversation.
“You’re right,” he said. “And I plan to rectify that immediately, Lady…” He trailed off.
Her low chuckle brushed against my ears. “Trust me, Lord Scarven, I’m no lady.”
“Ah, but you’re a challenge, aren’t you?”
I heard his footsteps, then her heartbeat picked up speed. I squeezed my glass so tightly, it almost shattered in my grip. She was trying not to be frightened. I hated standing by while my people were put in uncomfortable positions.
“You seem to know who I am with merely one word, and yet, I’m still at a loss for your name, love,” Scarven continued. “That’s hardly playing fair.”
“Of course I know who you are. This is your party, isn’t it? Everyone here from Mysthelm has heard of the legendary Kane Scarven.” She sounded closer to him, and I resisted the impulse to turn around.
Everett was right, though. She was playing this perfectly.
Scarven hummed. “And what have you heard of me?”
“That you’re powerful. A bit ruthless.” There was a slow click of heels, and I imagined her circling him with that smirk of hers. “And you always get what you want.”
“Not always, it seems,” Scarven responded.
A pause. And then—“Selena Nyte, my lord.”
“Ah, Miss Nyte,” he said, the words practically a hiss. “Would you join me for a dance?”
I couldn’t fight the urge to look away any longer. I turned, taking in the room in a wide arc, pretending to survey the guests when my gaze snagged on them. Scarven leaned forward to take the glass from her, then slid his hand around her hips.
My wine glass shattered.
I spun and gripped the edge of the table as those nearest me gasped.
“You alright?” Everett whispered.
I clenched my jaw. “Let’s just get this night over with.”