Chapter 7 #2
I look back at the dancers as they line up before the table, preparing for the music to begin.
A dark melody fills the room, signaling them to begin.
As quickly as they rushed in, the fabric wraps around them like a second skin, and they begin to move.
The fabric moves to the music like their limber bodies, whipping through the air in all directions.
The bass builds in my chest like a thundering heartbeat, and the sounds of their footsteps fill the air alongside the melancholy tones.
They part for a moment, moving behind each of our chairs, causing the fabric to brush across our faces at times, and I fight the urge to swat it away.
Oak, Maines, and the others watch in awe as the beautiful women dance in unison around us.
One woman, in her late thirties, keeps her gaze fixed on Silas. Her white hair shines in the dark room like a blinding light. The haunting music moves her body around, but her stare never breaks from him, and my stomach begins to twist with jealousy.
Who is that?
The music intensifies. The blaring bass reverberates through the room, guiding their fluid bodies as each twists and grinds in its own way.
With every boom, their bodies change direction, their arms and hands moving in sync to create angular gestures.
It’s beautiful, yet I feel my rage surfacing as I watch another woman look at Silas with such an expression.
I take a second to look at him while the others are lost in the dance. Silas looks down, still haunted by whatever lives here, and clearly unaffected by the women around us—as if he doesn’t even see them or feel the stare from the woman so desperate to get his attention.
And that’s when I notice a new shadow rippling behind Silas’s large frame, like a creature of the night.
Malachi Nastronde sits at the head of the table.
I do my best, but I can't hide my surprise at his sudden arrival. He’s older than I expected. Deep lines mar his face, and an all-white beard covers most of his jaw. Gray streaks run through his black hair, and his bright jade eyes gleam in the dim light of the Great Hall.
Malachi stares at me, but the others don’t seem to notice him. Silas remains lost in thought while the others watch the dancers move through the room.
“Briar, Queen of Daramveer.”
His deep voice coils into my mind despite his lips remaining still. I attempt to look away, but it’s as if my gaze is fixed on his.
“The others neither see nor hear me. Only you, Briar,” he nearly hisses. “How lucky.”
A horrified feeling courses through my veins, leaving me fixated on Malachi’s face. Silas pulls his gaze up and notices my frozen state. Even from my periphery, a wave of dread washes over him as his face drains of color.
He knows exactly who I see.
“You’ve traveled far to be here.”
I blink, unable to move or react.
“You think you will win this kingdom over?”
His hands rest on the table, and I notice the slightest movement. Black vines start to slither from his sleeves toward me. The thin vines snap on the wooden table, drowning out the muffled beats of the music. One quickly moves my way, attempting to wrap around my wrist, and my stomach rolls.
Terror floods me.
His piercing gaze settles into my soul, and I study them—they aren’t eyes like Silas’s or Fen’s.
They are different—darker—and something I’ve never seen before.
I burrow down, attempting to focus on my magic, begging my shadows to come forward.
I need them to shift me out of this castle immediately.
I need to get the fuck away from this man.
“Briar,” Silas says beside me. “Don’t listen to what the shadows say.”
A tear settles heavily on my lower lid as I remain stuck.
“Look at me.”
Still in a trance, my eyes sluggishly blink. Malachi furrows his brow, watching me slowly return to life against his hold.
“Briar,” Silas says once more, louder, causing the others to look our way. “Eyes on me.”
Fen and Aerona ignore us, choosing not to involve themselves with what’s happening. They already know.
“Please,” Silas reverts to a gentle voice.
I blink harder this time, and Malachi begins to fade into black smoke. His eyes burn into Silas as he watches his son pull me back into my body and out of his invisible claws that wrap around my mind.
He vanishes as a tear rolls down my cheek.
I gasp, and my back hits the tall chair behind me.
“Briar?” Maines calls from down the table. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My chest heaves, and I shiver, thankful that the vines are gone and no longer snaking toward me. Silas turns my entire chair as if it were weightless and wraps his arms around me momentarily.
“I am so fucking sorry.” He presses his head against mine, barely whispering, “I’ll explain everything soon.”
Tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes again, but I refuse to let Aerona see me cry another tear.
“W—Why,” I barely muster out, “didn’t you warn me?”
Silas notices my state, and regret hangs in his eyes, like bringing me here was possibly the worst mistake he could have ever made.
The far back doors of the Great Hall pulse as someone approaches, the darkness of the shadows concealed by the night.
“It appears that the party has started without me.”
Everyone halts once more as Malachi Nastronde floats into the room like a black storm.
I look around, praying that the others see him, and from their reactions, I know he is really before us this time.
A king glides toward us, his long black cloak hanging around his body, making him appear like a nightmare.
Shadows pool around his feet, as if they are carrying him to the table, and the room around us seems to hold its breath as he approaches.
Malachi Nastronde sits at the head of the table, ignoring the other guests. Aerona tries to stand, but Malachi waves her off with a dismissive gesture. She quickly takes her seat and lowers her chin, as if she somehow offended him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Silas’s jaw clench so hard that I fear his teeth might shatter. I slowly turn my gaze toward Malachi and quiet the fear running wild in my veins, shifting my chair back against the table.
The darkness inside me throbs in his presence, and I take a deep breath.
The King of Andorwood stares directly at me. “Now, where were we, Miss Blackbyrne?”