CHAPTER THREE
My heart raced, each beat bursting against my chest like a fist. Every step I took up the stairs felt more exhausting than the last, as if my shoes had turned to lead. I couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t escape. Not without risking everything.
The nobleman’s hand remained wrapped firmly around my own, our fingers entwined, something that I’d grown accustomed to doing with the men I brought up here. But with him, it was different. His touch felt strangely natural. More so than any touch had in years.
It made looking at his features and hearing his voice, both of which were so similar to Jaron’s, so jarring it hurt.
Stop fighting.
There was no amount of comfort, or sense of familiarity that could outweigh the truth. He was a member of the House Lafir. And it was time for me to do what I should have done years ago.
My eyes met the nobleman’s as we reached the landing, and for once, my stomach didn’t turn. My heart no longer raced but seemed to flutter. With possibility.
One look, one touch, and he’d already offered enough to cover the energy that would be required to heal Geoffrey’s cuts and bruises.
The energy that was flowing into me wasn’t strong, but it was steady like a stream.
And a stream could grow. A dam could burst. For years now, every dance I did, every touch I gave, every hand I held, back I rubbed, and kiss I’d stolen, had been just enough to maintain the mask I wore.
To keep the Azete at bay. But I could see it now. I could have more.
I could have the nobleman tonight. Take his power, his strength.
I could do it. Not the Azete. Me. I could push my feelings aside ‘til dawn.
Forget his bloodline and family. Forget everything.
Then I could drain him dry. Do to him what every member of House Lafir deserved.
What the tyrant king most certainly did, and what his son was owed.
Maybe the nobleman was good, maybe he was innocent. But I was running out of options.
Tonight, I would not just take enough to survive.
I would take everything.
Take the power I’d been afraid of, that I’d been avoiding since my mother. Since Jaron. It was time to leave.
Geoffrey’s reminder that he knew what I was, knew my true name, hadn’t been a warning, but a declaration of war. I could see that clearly. The moment the money was right, the second the deal had been negotiated to his liking, it was over. And he wouldn’t just throw me out. He would turn me in.
To King Tirian. Or the Witch Queen.
I didn’t know which one was worse.
I only knew I had to escape both fates to survive. And then find a way to help my friends. Finlay had to get out of there, too, and so did Thomas. All of the musicians, the servers, the cooks, whom I’d grown fond of over the years. And, most importantly, the dancers.
Especially Cecelia. Because the night I fought back against Jaron, the moment he realized my strength and resilience, he’d retreated. And when he returned, he went after her. Hurting her, scarring her.
And Geoffrey had let him. It was only a matter of time before he’d do it again. Do whatever he had to to keep his wealth.
I glanced down at the nobleman’s hip, spying his purse, hearing the faint sound of the coins within. My expression hardened.
I supposed Geoffrey had been right about one thing. Someone was definitely getting fucked tonight. Only it wouldn’t be me.
A line of torches along the wall crackled and flared above us. I reached up to take one with my free hand, urging him down the corridor.
“We can have food and drink sent up at any time.” I met his eyes. “And you are, of course, welcome to stay the night.” I let the word linger in the air between us, pausing to give his mind a chance to fill in what activities might happen between now and dawn.
As expected, his throat bobbed, his eyes widening.
I smiled, as if I could read his mind. As if I, too, wanted whatever fantasy he imagined. Whatever it was, it wasn’t eliciting a strong enough emotion for me to pick up on.
Well, we’d change that.
“The bed,” I continued, “is one of our most comfortable and quite large. I have a basin and washroom so you may freshen yourself up before, and after.” I leaned in toward him, my eyes slowly raking up and down his body before once more meeting his eyes.
I sent heat to my neck, to enhance the scent of my perfume, using a small push of my magic to waft it toward him before I bit my lip.
“Whatever you need, whatever you want, I am more than happy to provide.”
The nobleman took a deep breath, one I knew was filled with my scent. But rather than saying or doing anything lascivious—as most men would at this point—he merely squeezed my hand. As if to reassure me. A soft gesture.
Sweet, even.
Stop fighting. You know you like it.
I looked away, my throat dry. The flames of the torch began to spit, black smoke guttering to the ceiling.
We passed a painting of Eskalon’s patron God, Kavrir, hanging on the wall.
He was golden-haired and muscular, brave and noble, in his golden armor, a shining sword in his hand.
But stalking behind him—was the horned God, Batrir, Eskalon’s villain.
He was sneaking up on the golden-haired God, a coy way for Geoffrey to poke fun at what men came here to do. Even noble ones.
“I’m right down this way,” I said, leading us to my room. The door was already wide open. It was always open. After all, we didn’t want to allow time for a mark to get cold feet or discover he was having second thoughts about the price while I unlocked it.
I noted that Geoffrey hadn’t discussed such things with my nobleman. But there were certain men who you could just count on to pay their debts, and he was one of them.
I led him inside, and only then did I release his hand so I could close the door behind us.
Bringing the torch to the fireplace, I refreshed the dwindling fire within, allowing the logs to spark with fresh flames before lighting the candles above the mantel.
My back was to the nobleman as I hung the torch in its rung, but I could feel him watching me, feel the heat of his eyes as they moved over my body. Knowing they lingered on my curves.
Good.
I turned to face him, leaning back against the door, my breasts pushed out, the coins affixed to the bra jingling and glimmering with gold and red in the firelight. His throat bobbed, watching me as I bit my lower lip, one hand sliding down my torso to the curve of my waist.
Carefully, he removed the purse from his belt and set it on a small writing desk beside the bed, looking quickly at me for approval. And there it was. All the proof I needed that Geoffrey had read him right.
I nodded, watching his neck redden. His jaw tightened suddenly, his eyes shifting to the floor, to the fireplace, the bed. To anywhere and anything he could find. Anything but me.
The faint light of the full moon poured through the window, casting his hair in a light bronze.
And just outside I heard robins, back from winter, chirping and tweeting, even this late into the evening.
Their calls mixed with the crackling of the fire.
It was already growing warm in the room.
Which meant it was time for the next part of the night.
The one that was best to get over with sooner rather than later.
My mouth opened, one of a hundred lines I used on my marks, ready to roll off my tongue.
Where do you want me?
How do you like it?
Get on the bed.
But without warning, the nobleman looked up at me. “You don’t have to…” He shook his head, his eyes moving back and forth between the bed and me. “You don’t have to do any of this. I didn’t…I didn’t come here for that.”
“Is that so?” I asked playfully. “Well, pray tell me. What did you come for?”
“Finlay,” he said suddenly. “I mean, I came for Rowan. My friend.” He was flustered, practically tripping over his words.
“I came so Rowan could meet Finlay. He saw him perform at the Spring Festival just outside the castle last week. And …” he shook his head, like he thought he’d said too much.
“Well, actually coming all the way out here was Kienan’s idea. ”
I raised my eyebrow. “Kienan? Is that your black-haired friend at the bar?”
“Yes,” he said. “It was his suggestion to come. Because of Rowan. And … his suggestion for me to make arrangements to … to come as well.”
“To celebrate your upcoming betrothal?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Well, I must also offer a drink to Kienan in gratitude.” I smiled. “Because thanks to him, I now have the chance to get to know you better.”
“Can we—can we just talk?” he asked suddenly.
By the Gods, old and new. Any other night this would have been my dream scenario.
A blessing in disguise. But tonight? After what I’d decided?
I already had his money—more than I’d seen in months.
But I needed more than that to make my escape.
I needed power. I needed strength. Enough magic to fill my body, enough to satisfy the Azete.
I didn’t just need to change my face again.
I needed muscle to get past Geoffrey’s guards.
And I was only going to get the strength to do that from touching him.
All of him. From stirring every emotion inside of him as I did. We had to fuck—it was the only way.
“Well,” I purred, “We can certainly start there if you like.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes still on me as his jaw worked. “What if I …” He swallowed roughly, his jaw muscles tensed. “What if I wanted it to end there, too?”
I shrugged, caught off guard. But it didn’t matter. It was another lie. He’d already tried to walk away from me once. And look how quickly he’d come back. He’d change his mind again.
“What about another drink?” I asked.
“If you wish for one, I will join you and keep your company. But I fear no number of drinks will alter my position.”