13. Raelyna
RAELYNA
I swiped at a lone tear trickling down my otherwise pristine face, praying to all five gods that no one spotted my momentary lapse of strength.
“Weak men are not worth your tears.” A low voice rumbled from behind me.
I whirled, my dress swaying with the motion as I met darkened amber eyes that fastened on me instantaneously.
“And yet, sometimes, they get them anyway,” I replied as I looked up at the male who caught me in a moment of weakness.
His eyes narrowed, a flash of something unrecognizable in their depths before he spoke again. “Care for a dance?”
My heart stuttered, beating quicker than I’d like as I studied the towering guard.
Standing before me was over six feet of hulking muscle, clad in the dark charcoal gray hues of the RSG uniform.
The standard-issue combat pants clung to his legs, a heavy utility belt resting low against his hips.
He wore a lightweight tactical vest, which was typically reserved for high-ranking members of the RSG, along with a larger gun strapped to his chest.
By all five gods, it should be a crime for a male to look so stars-damn attractive in uniform.
My eyes trailed back up, meeting piercing gold orbs, and I froze, heat dusting my cheeks as I realized I’d been caught gawking.
Blackwood.
“Well?” His voice was a daring caress that floated in the air as he watched me with an intensity that made me want to sink into him.
The male was infuriating . . . and would possibly be the death of me. Every fiber in my body seemed to scream yes to his question—it was as though I were being drawn toward him.
But no. Nope. No. Not today, Raelyna. You will not dance with one of Luc’s men, no matter how much you evidently want to.
“I would rath—” I began, intending to protest, seeing as I’d only just escaped Luc, when a firm, gloved hand wrapped around my waist, tugging me toward him, and the breath left my lungs in a rush as I collided with his body in a magnetic pull.
“It wasn’t entirely a question,” he retorted with a soft chuckle as he placed my other hand on his shoulder.
I caught the moment his chuckle halted. His eyes flared with an array of emotions before settling on anger as he stared at my arm with burning intensity, as though his gaze alone could change what he saw.
The arm he’d placed on his shoulder, the same one Luc had gripped with excessive force, was mottled with forming bruises from the sheer force Luc had held me with.
I watched as he looked between my arm, then the king, who was already leaving the room, then back at my arm, his jaw ticking as he did so. I felt his muscles ripple with . . . restraint?
I wanted to withdraw my arm, hide the angry red marks and mottled bruising I knew were beginning to appear. A furrow appeared in his forehead, his body tense and taut, then he began to guide me through the dance . . . a number I knew by heart.
“And if I refused?” I questioned, shock fluttering through me as I matched his stare.
“Your demand for a dance?” His hand felt scorching across my waist as he pulled me even closer, until the heat from his body was radiating onto me.
It felt like small bursts of electricity shot across my skin at every point where our bodies connected, his presence overwhelming mine.
And yet, despite it all, it felt right .
. . like this was exactly where I was always meant to be.
Here, in his arms, surrounded by the scent of amber and leather.
“You wouldn’t have,” he stated, matter-of-factly, as though he knew what I would have done.
“You don’t know that.” I deadpanned, my eyes narrowing on him. The golden flecks of his eyes flickered with amusement at my blatant denial, and I found myself mesmerized by the hues dancing across those amber flecks.
“I could feel the fear radiating from you as you danced with him.” His voice was a low growl as his head inclined with a nod toward the exit Lucanus had headed toward.
We moved to the music, our bodies in synchronized motion as the beat swept across the room.
“I feel fairly confident in my assessment.”
If it were possible, my eyes narrowed even more, because he couldn’t have felt the fear that Luc instilled in me. That was impossible . . .
“You do realize that it’s not possible to feel fear on someone else, right?” I stated matter-of-factly.
“Not someone else,” he answered, his voice brushing over me. “You. Only you.”
My brow furrowed as I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, confusion spreading through me at his words.
“That’s still not possible.” The words fell from my lips in a strangled breath.
“And yet,” he replied as his hand trailed up my arm while we danced.
“I felt not only your fear, but your pain.” He finished his statement as his fingers traced a bare expanse of skin on my wrist, moving in a pattern of lines.
A shiver trailed through my body as I stared at him, my eyes widening slightly.
It’s not possible. It’s literally not. Unless—no. My arm had no other marks on it. Not possible.
Blackwood spun me through the room, and I felt the caress of warm air, lingering with an amber and leather scent, wrap around me as he dropped me into a low dip.
The breath caught in my lungs, tendrils of my shoulder-length, wavy hair brushing against the marbled flooring, as I placed all my trust momentarily in the male holding me. We stayed, frozen like that for a moment, as the sound of music wrapped itself around us.
I rose out of the dip with grace as we met in the center of the dance floor, and I found myself mere inches from his face, breaths entwining from the proximity, despite the mandatory dunewrap covering the lower portion of his face.
Our gazes hooked on each other, my thoughts fleeing my mind as I found myself lost in his gaze, my heart stuttering in my chest as he consumed every fiber of my attention.
And I wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to be his.
To find myself in his arms like this every night.
“You’re breathtaking when you get lost to the music like this.” His voice was barely audible as my gaze flicked toward his.
“Breathtaking, huh?”
He nodded. “I mean it. Never let anyone hide you in the darkness; you deserve to be put in the light.”
The melody consuming us shifted, and I pulled back the slightest amount, my body refusing the action as my mind reeled with his words.
My gaze drifted to his covered left forearm, still wondering how he was able to keep his markings covered in Solis, especially as a higher-ranking RSG.
“What do you want with me?” The question was a soft whisper on the notes of the song as I stared into golden orbs.
“Everything,” he answered simply and that one word took my breath away. “But that’s beside the point. There are other things I need to discuss with you.”
Everything.
Everything?
What in Astara does that even mean?
“Your sister,” he stated in a gruff voice that had my ears perking up, paying attention. “She marked for a water affinity, same as you, correct?”
“You shouldn’t know that,” I stated. “How do you know what my sister marked as?”
“I have my ways,” he responded, his voice staying low, and I tried pulling back from him slightly, my head craning up to meet his gaze as alarm flashed in my eyes. The action was to no avail, seeing as he didn’t allow me to pull back. Instead, he tugged me firmly back toward his muscle-clad frame.
As a result of the motion, my thigh brushed up against a metal edge, my gaze dipping briefly to the guns—plural—strapped in holsters across muscular thighs.
Fuck. Me.
“Members of the Royal Solis Guard don’t have access to our records,” I stated, repeating what both Luc and my father had confirmed years ago as my heart beat far too fast, ice cold terror washing over me.
“So, unless you’ve met my sister in person—which I highly doubt you have—then there should be abso-fucking-lutely no way that you know what she marked as this week. ”
“And yet,” he replied simply, the scent of amber and leather surrounding us, “I know what affinity she was gifted with. I also know that her results have been tampered with.” His voice dropped low as he stated those words, and I froze.
A dead stop in the middle of the dance floor.
He carried me through the movements, my feet missing the beat of the next few steps as I stumbled, terror coursing through me in waves.
Nope.
No.
No.
No.
This could not be happening.
“No.” It was a hoarse whisper.
A faltered word.
A plea to the gods that he was lying.
He said nothing, his jaw ticking—a movement I could only pick up by the slight shift of his dunewrap—as he moved me to the beat, my feet following numbly as we danced gracefully across the floor.
“You’re lying,” the words barely slipped my lips.
“We both know I’m not.”
“You can’t possibly know that. Not unless—” I halted mid-sentence. Not unless you were there too. Not unless you were conspiring against King Lucanus.
I tried to step back—to break free of his firm hold, but he only tightened his grip.
I was trapped.
“Let. Go. Of. Me.” Each word was a low demand as I struggled to break free without drawing attention to myself.
“I will, but not until you hear me out.” His eyes narrowed, a flicker of a plea radiating through their surface. I ground my teeth, searching the flecks of gold as I studied the male in front of me.
On one hand, if he was committing any form of treason, I wanted as much space between us as possible; I couldn’t afford to be seen with him. On the other hand, if he knew something—anything—about my sister, if there was a way to protect her . . .
And if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to leave. Not yet, at least.
“Fine,” I stated finally. “You have one dance, then I’m gone.”
His head nodded in agreement, black curls framing his forehead. His eyes darted around the room, searching through the shadows as he spun me around. The skirts of my dress swept in an arch as I moved across the floor, the next song picking up.