Chapter 3
Three
“ C ome on, Everinne.” Zoryana dragged her through the crowd, toward the exit of the Grand Cru.
But if Everinne was being completely honest, her knees were still trembling from that damn near disaster, and the heels she wore were making it far too difficult to walk.
She didn’t turn around to look at him again, but she’d already witnessed Atlas disappear into the Midnight Lounge, and she highly doubted he would come back out.
Especially not to scold her. He probably already had some willing female straddling his lap with her breasts shoved up into his face while she was busy getting him off.
Everinne rolled her eyes, ignoring the wave of dizziness that swept through her.
Typical.
If Atlas hadn’t distracted her, she would’ve made that jump. Now, he looked like the hero and she looked like she’d fallen on purpose just so he would catch her.
He was infuriating.
Maddening.
“Everinne.” Zoryana’s soft voice jolted her from her spiraling thoughts, and Everinne blinked, refocusing on her friend.
Zoryana’s jade green eyes clouded over and she laced their fingers together, pulling her closer.
There was the faintest hint of sage and juniper as her magic coasted over Everinne, stealing away her anger.
Goosebumps pebbled her flesh, and it was as though Zoryana wrapped the thread of wrath around her finger, then gently tugged, luring the aggressive emotion from out of Everinne’s heart.
“I’m fine.” Everinne loosed a shaky breath, calming herself. Her blood cooled, quieting the cruel monster she struggled to keep locked within its cage. And her magic—so violent in nature, it granted her the ability to inflict unimaginable pain—fell silent once more.
But Atlas’s words continued to haunt her.
Careful, Ever. Your magic is showing.
She’d almost slipped in front of him, had almost exposed that singular part of herself she hated more than anything.
He knew, of course, what she was capable of doing.
Just as he knew the kind of suffering she could inflict.
Atlas was one of the few who could get under her skin, who could trigger her emotions enough to send her into a turbulent spiral.
It was one of the main reasons she couldn’t stand to be around him.
It was why Zoryana was the only friend she’d ever managed to keep.
She’d witnessed the darkest parts of Everinne, all her jagged pieces, and she’d stayed by her side in spite of it all.
Because when Everinne lost control of her emotions, she also lost her restraint.
Her vicious magic scraped its way to the surface, unleashing a swell of raging agony.
Anyone who stood in her way would fall victim to her torment.
She was powerful enough to break hearts and shatter minds, to hurt and wound beyond repair, leaving nothing more than a husk of a soul. The worst was when she killed someone.
It had only happened once, but the memory of it was marked upon her flesh. A tattoo had formed around her wrist in the shape of a vine, and from it, a flower appeared. A blood rose, with crimson petals tinged by black, because the bloom always looked as though it was weeping blood.
She stole a hasty glance down at her wrist. “I need another drink.”
“Absolutely not.” Zoryana shook her head and sent her rich brown spirals tumbling. “I told Prince Atlas I was getting you out of here.”
She tugged lightly but Everinne slipped free. Taking a step back, she fell into the outlying shadows of the Grand Cru, where the blinding dance lights didn’t quite reach. “I can’t go home, Zory. Not yet.”
She sent her a pleading look, silently begging her to understand.
If she went home now, to the deafening quiet of her apartment, it would only be a matter of time before she was consumed by the nightmares that plagued her. Either she drank herself into oblivion in an effort to fall unconscious, or she didn’t sleep at all. There was no in between.
Zoryana’s stern expression softened, but her kohl-lined gaze flicked to one of the balconies jutting out above them. “If he finds out you stayed, you know he’s going to tell Veros.”
Everinne grumbled a swear and wrapped her arms around herself. Her mouth twisted to the side. “He probably already has, but don’t worry, I’ll be gone and back in my own bed before he leaves the lounge.”
If she got lucky, Atlas would have far too much to drink and forget all about her escapade, then at least she would be able to avoid Veros’s scorn.
“Are you sure?” Zoryana pressed, rubbing her lips together. She glanced around the magnificent dance floor once more, but when she looked back at Everinne, there was a glimmer of concern in her eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself.”
Starysa was the only safe haven in all of Prava.
It was also the only place on the continent of Aedran where mortals and immortals lived together peacefully.
It was a conglomerate of fae, vampires, witches, humans, and shifters.
During the day, it was breathtaking, filled with remarkable shops and lively markets selling any number of crafted artisan goods and oddities.
The constant buzz from the bustling harbor was more like music, where dozens of ships took to port and traveling merchants came to trade their eccentric wares.
But sometimes when dusk fell and the moon took to the skies, the energy shifted.
The lurking Deszvila Forest pressed in on the walled city, the threat of its wicked wood and the fearsome stories of its past enough to make Starysa appear like a glowing beacon of protection.
But the night was when shadows walked. There were obscure alleys, unlit corners, and the sprawling underdark of the occult beneath the city’s center, perfect for conducting dark deeds and striking nefarious bargains.
But Everinne could take care of herself.
Of that, she was sure.
She lifted both hands, feigning innocence. “I’m only going to sit at the bar. I’ll order one more glass of spiced wine and then I’ll leave.”
Zoryana debated, tucking the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.
She shifted her weight, then stole a look at the glass ceiling.
The moon was barely visible behind a stretch of inky clouds.
“Alright, if you’re certain. But my door will be unlocked in case you decide you don’t want to make the trek home. ”
Zoryana’s apartment was only a few blocks from the Grand Cru, whereas Everinne lived in the shopping district, surrounded by darling shops and half of the city’s pretentious elite.
“Thanks, Zory.” Everinne leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her friend’s cheek. “I won’t be out late. Promise.”
She extended her arms and wrapped Zoryana in an embrace. Her friend squeezed once, tightly, before finally letting her go. “See you tomorrow?”
Everinne nodded. “Of course.”
She watched as Zoryana made her way through the throng of bodies on the dance floor until she disappeared from view completely. Everinne had promised she would only have one more drink and if that was the case, then she was going to make it a strong one.
Spinning on her heel and only teetering off-balance once, she headed for the bar.
Not surprisingly, there was nowhere to sit and barely anywhere to stand.
Nudging her way between a vampire with alabaster skin and bronze hair and the female human trying to seduce him, she reached over the slab of mahogany wood and hailed the bartender.
“Excuse you,” the female spat, crossing her arms so her cleavage became more prominent. “We were having a conversation.”
Everinne’s gaze flicked over to the vampire in question. He pressed his lips together and gave the slightest shake of his head. She took that as her cue.
“Were you?” she cooed, eyeing the female from the tips of her hideous sequined shoes to her lime green dress that stretched around her like lizard’s skin. “I hadn’t noticed.”
She winked at the vampire.
He chuckled, muttering his gratitude before returning to his drink. The woman scowled, and Everinne could feel the heat from her glare burning into her back, but she paid her no mind when the bartender appeared before her.
“What can I get you?” he asked, his voice gruff, his black eyes never quite meeting hers.
Everinne gave her best smile. “One glass of spiced wine, please.”
He answered with nothing but a grunt, and a moment later, a glass of the delicious wine was set before her. Everinne slid two notes across the bar, grabbed her drink, and went in search of somewhere to sit. Or at least somewhere less crowded to stand.
She whirled around, but the thin heel of her stiletto didn’t twist. It lodged itself between the wooden beams of the floor and when she jerked her leg forward to remove it, the momentum from her upper body sent her tumbling forward.
The deep burgundy contents of her wine sloshed over the rim of the glass, and she instinctively threw one arm out as she careened toward the ground.
Everinne yelped and braced for impact until a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her upright.
“Easy there.” A deep, rumbling voice coated the back of her neck like frosty ice. “I’ve got you.”
Everinne turned in the arms of her rescuer, looked up into his face, and her mouth fell open.
She snapped it shut quickly enough, but not before devouring the fine specimen of a male who held her.