Chapter 20 #2
I had a drink in my hand that I was nursing—which really meant I took one sip before deciding I was going to pretend to drink it. It was bitter. I’d never had alcohol before—I was too young in Moriann to even think about drinking before I made my deal with Dahes.
I quickly realized I wasn’t missing out. I had no idea why everyone here was so obsessive about it, because as I scanned the crowded room, it was all I could see. People drowning in their drinks while the servants kept refilling cup after cup.
I stayed toward the perimeter of the room, trying to not draw attention to myself, which was another reason I wanted to kill Bran—it was impossible.
Everyone was glaring at me. No matter how hard I tried to keep to the shadows, my dress caught every fraction of light, displaying my naivety across the room.
I didn’t understand the rules, and it was obvious.
I huffed, pretending to take another fake sip of my drink just to blend in.
“Wine in Soffikane tastes like shit,” a deep voice sounded from behind me.
I whirled, coming face to face with pale brown eyes. They were the only soft feature about him—the coloring—which bordered on hazel depending on the lighting, and right now specks of soft green and gold were dancing along with the brown.
“This back and forth of ignoring me, then not, is giving me whiplash,” I drawled.
“After watching you nurse the same glass of wine for the past hour, I figured you needed to know,” Arrik said.
“As opposed to what then?” I arched my brow, trying to ignore the flutters in my stomach at his admittance to watching me.
Get a grip, Magnolia. He was probably only doing it because Elion put him up to it, not because he finds you attractive.
Suns, why did he have to be so freaking attractive?
Arrik held my stare. “Ryaranthia. The Third Province has fields that harvest the vines to make them fresh. It’s the only good place for wine. When you’re in First Province, only drink the ales, and if you’re in the Grigg, drink the mead.”
“What, no facts for Inyaerille?” I asked, crossing my arms, unable to keep the irritation out of my voice. “After all, you want me to go there.”
“Fourth Province is lucky to get any imported alcohol.”
I huffed. It really was the same as Moriann.
“Noted,” I mumbled as I tried to walk past him, but he moved in front of me, blocking my exit.
We were toward the back corner of the room, standing under the painting of the black dragon.
Most of the crowd was gathered around the large floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Dome, giving us a false sense of seclusion.
I tried to steady my breathing as he leaned down and whispered, “I told you to run.”
“Also noted,” I drawled, keeping my tone neutral. “You reminded me earlier on the balcony.”
He eyed me, not backing out of my space. “And I meant it.”
I placed my hand over my heart. “You’re doing such a good job at convincing me to go. How can I live without good wine?”
“Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”
“As I told you earlier, I don’t believe a single word you say.”
“I thought seeing the burning would have you thinking differently.”
My jaw dropped as irritation ran through me. “You burned her so I’d believe your threat?”
“No. I burned her because my king ordered it.”
“Whatever. I don’t need to listen to you—” I went to walk away, but he grabbed my upper arm, stopping me.
My breath hitched as I willed my Token to manifest, but it wouldn’t come. His fingers felt callused over my bare arm, his grip soft but firm enough to make me hyperaware of every inch that touched me.
“Please. Let. Me. Go.” Each word was clipped on a whispered breath that took everything in me to get out.
He immediately released his hold on my arm. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Then ran his fingers over his face before finally stepping back. “You don’t need to trust me, but you need to be smart. Leave before it’s too late.”
“Why?” I breathed, meeting his gaze again.
“Soffikane is too heavily guarded.” He completely avoided my question.
“Follow the Drakin Mountains up to the Grigg, but don’t cross until you reach the beach.
If you pass through the range, you’re more likely to get eaten by a dragon.
” His gaze roamed over my outfit, and I had to compose myself to not blush over my dress.
“There’s a pass between the range that will take you safely into Inyaerille.
You can blend in there. Hide. Let some time pass.
Then move to Ryaranthia. Build a life for yourself.
You’ll still be protected from the Dead King across the Sands, and Elion doesn’t leave the first two Provinces. ”
My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure why it pissed me off. Why did he want me gone so badly? Half the time he acted like I didn’t exist, and the other half—whenever no one else was around—he was trying to convince me to run away. Did he hate me that much?
“What is this?” I asked, a bit of my malice coming back to my voice. “Your last warning before you pick me for the next entertainment?”
He didn’t answer right away. I watched his jaw tick before his gaze narrowed. “If I pick you, it’ll be because I didn’t have a choice. So yes, take this as your last warning.”
He left before I could respond, leaving me standing alone in the corner of the room, clutching the disgusting glass of wine in my hand and wondering what to make of that entire conversation.
Cash knocked on the door to my room hours later. “Open up before I teleport in.”
That got me moving. I ran to the door, pulling the wood, as a newfound fear coursed through me, realizing that it didn’t matter if my room was locked or not.
Cash could either use his telekinesis to open the lock or bypass the door completely and teleport through it.
I swallowed as he eyed me.
“I’ll keep this short because I’m fucking wasted, and I want to sleep,” he said as he took a single step forward to lean against the frame. “Have you managed to overcome your fear?”
I looked down at my feet, staring at my toes, before slowly shaking my head. “What if I can’t?”
“You will,” he said, his voice slurred, but firm. “All you have to do is convince your mind that you want it.”
I shifted on my feet, trying to think how I was going to do that when I couldn’t even get myself to think about what happened that night.
“Are you scared of the power itself or what triggered it?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Nollie, I’m drunk, and I don’t have time for this tonight. King Elion expects you to have control, and I thought you had been practicing on your own. I thought you made progress.” He ran his fingers through his hair, the blonde strands oily from constantly doing it throughout the day.
“What caused it,” I answered, my voice soft. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to admit anything—especially to him. But I needed to get over this more.
“Okay, well that’s easy then.”
“Easy?” I repeated, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah.” His eyes glossed over as he looked me up and down. “Whatever triggered it is in the past. If it was your power, it would have been harder.”
I didn’t say anything as realization dawned on me. I couldn’t control it because it wasn’t over. Dahes wasn’t just in my past, he was my present and future. I walked around every day terrified he’d try it again, wondering why he hadn’t.
I swore he did it to mess with me. I didn’t delude myself into thinking that he wouldn’t do it again. He was dragging it out, making the trepidation of waiting for it to happen so much worse.
“Stay up tonight,” he said. “I don’t care what you have to do, but convince yourself that whatever the hell happened to cause it, doesn’t hold any weight anymore.”
He pushed off from the door frame. “We’ll train tomorrow night when I’m not so drunk,” he said, already starting to turn away. “And I expect to see improvement.”