Chapter 21 #2
Her dark hair is pinned up, a few loose curls framing her sharp features and brushing against her tanned collarbone. The flicker of firelight catches on her skin, painting her in warm, golden light.
The Eshari stalks silently at her side, golden eyes sharp and watchful. The panther's presence is as commanding as hers. Together, they’re a formidable pair, and they draw practically every eye in the room.
Cal is right. It isn’t just fear or mistrust in the eyes that land on her. There’s a fair bit of desire in this room as well.
“You were saying?”
“What?” I rip my attention back to Cal. Taking my eyes off her is surprisingly painful.
He nods to Huntyr. “You were staring.”
I scowl, irritation bubbling again. “I was assessing someone you just implied is a potential threat.”
He snorts, stabbing a cut of meat with his fork. “Assessing her curves, maybe.”
I don't even bother responding. There’s no point in denying it when I’m already seeking her out again. When I’m already assessing the way the dress lies on her figure, imagining what she would look like out of that dress.
Huntyr catches my gaze and holds it, those blue eyes so impossibly bright. Unnaturally bright. We hold that stare for just a beat too long, and I swear I can see the heat burning through me mirrored in her eyes.
But then she smirks.
Mocking me. Entirely unbothered.
And suddenly I want to kiss her just to wipe that look off her face.
Or rip her skirt up, find the dagger I know is strapped to her thigh, and slam it through the table between us. Either would work.
But I don’t move.
I watch as she takes a place next to the blonde Mortal that’s always been rude to her.
I watch as she grins at the girl. Somehow the girl, who has done nothing but make her life difficult, has managed to earn a smile from Huntyr that is both light and genuine.
She’s earned the kind of smile that Huntyr has yet to direct at me.
And that bothers me for the entirety of the time that I pretend to eat my meal, even as I remind myself that it shouldn’t matter. Her smiles shouldn’t matter. She shouldn’t matter.
Idon’t know what it is about this woman that prevents me from being able to pull my attention away from her.
My evening proceeds in a dull haze, pretending to pay attention to the words being spoken to me while I watch her from across the room.
I watch with satisfaction as she finishes the meal.
I watch as she drinks deeply from her goblet, noting that it’s the first time I’ve actually seen her drink any of the wine we offer.
I watch as she stands easily and chats with Rhen and some of the other warriors.
She’s relaxed.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her relaxed.
Scratching the side of my neck, I wonder absently if it’s the presence of the Eshari trailing her that has her feeling more at ease.
Despite the fact that the beast arrived only a matter of hours ago, the two already seem intimately attached to each other.
The Eshari’s tail flicks easily around Huntyr’s ankle, and she reaches down to scratch the soft area between the panther's ears without missing a beat of her conversation. It’s as if she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
And all too suddenly, I’m moving, pushing back from the table.
I’m not even sure why.
I just know that I need to be closer to her. And I can’t stand another second of watching Rhen stare at her with lust burning in his eyes.
He might as well be shouting his intentions to the sky for as obvious as he’s making it.
While intimacy with contestants is forbidden for me, it’s certainly not for the women. Hell, they’re encouraged to enjoy their last nights.
But I’ll be damned if I watch him pull her out of this room.
“Your highness,” the warrior greets me, bowing his head respectfully.
I nod, barely keeping my frustration intact while thunder cracks outside. “Please consult with Roland regarding the next trial for the Conclave. I want to be sure everything is prepared.”
The bastard has the audacity to glance at her out of the corner of his eye, as if he’s unhappy at being sent away, before he follows my order.
Gods help me, if he had said anything to her before leaving, I might have killed him.
Huntyr turns, glancing up at me through dark lashes with a wry smile. Her gaze flickers quickly to my mouth before bouncing up to my eyes, and I can’t help my smirk.
“You look like you’re considering murdering someone,” she says.
Perceptive little thing.
“I just might,” I acknowledge, reaching for the decanter on the table beside us to refill her glass. “The night is young.”
She rolls her eyes, the motion sending a burst of need through me, before she glances pointedly at the window. She’s the only one that seems to notice I’m the cause of the booming outside. “It’s a party, Derian. It would be a shame if you lost your temper.”
I’m distracted. I want to listen to her, to play this game with her, but it’s really hard to fucking concentrate when she’s dressed like that.
Where did she even get that dress? None of the other women are dressed in anything near as tight or revealing.
None of them would have the confidence for it.
Seraphina would, but only because she wanted every eye on her.
I don’t think Huntyr has the slightest idea of the effect she’s having.
“You like testing me, don’t you?” I ask, leaning over her.
“You make it easy.” She grins up at me, and fuck, I can’t think straight when she’s peering at me from under those lashes. “What was it you said the other day? You’re the one who gets most riled up around me, which makes you the most fun to poke at.”
She’s just a Mortal. And yet she meets my gaze without a shred of fear. She calls me by my name instead of my title. She doesn’t want to win for the benefit of my hand.
She’s a complete anomaly.
“Believe me, you’re getting plenty of people riled up tonight.”
She chortles softly, turning away to scan over the room, before glancing up at me with an arched brow. “Jealous?”
“Yes.” What would be the point in denying that?
She leans back against the wall, rolling out her neck, and fuck, this angle lets me look right down the neckline of that dress.
Red is officially my favorite color.
The woman should have an entire wardrobe of nothing but this color.
“Good,” she says softly, taunting me. “It’s probably the first time in your spoiled princely life that you’ve been faced with wanting something you can’t have.”
She stares at me, those eyes burning through me, and I swear I can feel a spark of magic in the air. I don’t dare step back away from her, and she doesn’t either.
For someone who claims not to be interested in me, there does appear to be a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
“And would this be your attempt at flirting?” I ask, resting a hand on the wall above her head, leaning over her, noticing the way her fingers tighten on her glass.
She laughs, the sound shooting arrows of heat through me. “I don’t flirt with Fae bastards.”
I narrow my eyes. “Liar.”
“You really do think that everyone is obsessed with you, don’t you?”
The cat at her feet lays down, resting its head on its paws. Apparently, she’s decided that Huntyr is safe enough for now.
My gaze lingers on her mouth, on the curve of her full lips. “And you really like pretending that you’re not attracted to me, even though we both know you are.”
Huntyr downs the rest of her drink and rests it on the table next to her before twisting—still leaning against the wall, but now fully turning back to face me.
“What could possibly make you think that?”
“Could be the way you just arched your back.” I lift my hand to rest upon the curve of her hip.
She tenses slightly, her eyes darting over my shoulder to the room around us, where I’m sure plenty of eyes watch our every move.
But then her attention is on me again, and I savor the feeling of those eyes on mine.
“Or it could be the way you bite your lower lip every time you talk to me.”
“That’s all it takes for you to convince yourself that a woman wants you?”
“Those are typically signals that send a certain message, yes.”
She grins, those lips pulling back over perfectly white teeth, and she leans forward, tapping one finger against my chest and leaving it there.
“Trust me, when I want a man, there’s no question about it.
There’s no need to ask whether or not I’m flirting or debate the signals.
When I want a man, I make sure he knows.
And when I do finally take a man to bed, he leaves so satisfied that the separation is almost painful for the poor soul. ”
Dear Gods.
Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me? She must. Surely she’s trying to murder me with need.
Because I am more desperate than I’ve been since adolescence.
I’m practically ready to get on my knees before this creature.
I glance towards her empty glass. “Are you drunk?”
She smirks. “No, you idiot. I have an Eshari at my feet who swore to bite through the spinal cord of anyone who tries to hurt me. That knowledge brings me a fair amount of comfort.”
The panther looks up at me, the promise of that threat obvious in her golden eyes, before she rests her head back on her front two paws.
“The Eshari won’t be with you during the trials,” I remind her, voice low, ignoring the soft growl at our feet.
The sound of a clearing throat pulls my focus, and Parker approaches us, another message clutched in his palm. My stomach drops heavily.
Our game has ended for the evening.
“How soon?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
“His majesty will arrive in a fortnight. Likely after the Conclave has finished.”
Well that’s a relief at least.
Not even he has the power to end a Conclave once it’s been called, but still, I’d prefer not to have to deal with his criticism while this is all still happening. By the time he arrives, the Mortals will be dead and Seraphina will have won.
There will be nothing to be done at that point but write to the King of Velia, praise the strength of the Mortal competitors who showed bravery until their last breaths, and offer to maintain the alliance in honor of the women’s sacrifice.
I take the note from Parker and fold it in my pocket to read later. I’ll save it for after I finally manage to calm the storm outside. “Tell Caldren for me?”
Parker nods and heads to the table where Cal is somehow still eating.
I turn back to Huntyr, stiffening slightly when I notice that alertness in her eyes again. She watches Parker retreat, her expression… calculating.
Her features turn teasing once more when she returns her attention to me. The change is instantaneous, effortless, as if I’d imagined the whole thing.
But I hadn’t.
I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t be hiding something from me, would you?”
The Eshari rises, pressing against Huntyr’s leg and angling between us. She reaches down to pet the beast. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I would actually.
I would like to pin her against the wall and use whatever means necessary to make her confess everything to me.
But with a wicked grin, she pushes off the wall, murmurs something to her pet beast, and walks away without a single word of explanation. She returns to her spot at the table, next to the blonde, and the Eshari sits behind her, its golden eyes staring directly at me.
Cal appears at my side, smirking. “That might be the first time I watched a woman reject you.”
I glare at him from my peripheral. “You know as well as I that I cannot show favoritism.”
“Well you’re doing a terrible job following that rule,” he points out. “It’s quite obvious that you want her, and quite obvious that she wants nothing to do with you. It’s admittedly fun to watch.”
Gods help me.
“Find out where she was during those years,” I order him, running my tongue over my teeth as I continue watching her. “You just might be right about her.”
“About the fact that you want to fuck her?” he asks with a raised brow.
“No.” Yes. “She is different from the others. She’s not what she’s pretending to be, and that might just make her dangerous after all.”
He pauses, looking between her and me, consideration heavy on his face as he crosses his arms above his broad chest. “What happened to she’s just a Mortal?”
Quite a bit, actually.
She faced that first trial without a single misstep or show of fear.
She bonded an Eshari.
And the version of her I saw when my brother was mentioned was not one that I’ve seen before.
The dread that curls through my stomach is like a physical force coming over me, because as intoxicating as Huntyr Lachlan might be, I must defend my brother and King against any threat.
Even if that threat is her.