CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
LYRIANA
My chest tightened and I fell back on the bed.
He already fucked Amalthea.
I remembered the way Rhyan had looked a month ago, on the night he’d been forced to put the engagement ring on her finger, the way he scratched his palm. The way he was still keeping so many secrets from me.
It was kept quiet—but his father had—well, he’d made it known that he was to resume courting.
Kenna’s words came back to me, and my stomach sank. Had Amalthea been a part of that courting ? My hands flexed involuntarily.
But before I could take another moment to process what Imperator Hart had said, servants of the Emperor entered to prepare me for the ball. My hair was curled, my lashes darkened, and that hideous scrap of a dress was forced onto me until they deemed me ready.
A short while later, I was lined up outside of the ballroom, forced to stand in a long, dark corridor, my mind racing. I just wanted to get out of there. I wanted to get Rhyan alone to talk to him.
Instead, I was stuck, waiting, listening to the crackling sounds of the fire in the lamp above me, and Kane’s erratic breathing. Ahead, I could see the traditional purple cloth of Ka Elys, though I hadn’t seen anyone from Bamaria. They must have been one of the first Kavim presented. It was only after every Ka was introduced that the Imperators and their entourages proceded in. Until then, I was trapped in the Godsdamned hallway with my arm slung through Kane’s, my stomach twisting from the contact, and pain erupting in my blood every time I considered pulling away.
Rhyan was behind me, his arm linked with Amalthea’s. Imperator Hart’s words played in my mind again and again.
He already fucked Amalthea.
He already fucked Amalthea.
I clenched my jaw. Imperator Hart was lashing out. Trying to hurt me. But he wasn’t, not the way he wanted to, at least. Not the way he’d tried to hurt me with Kenna. Because all I could see was Rhyan’s hurt and distant look, the way his emotions had withdrawn, the way he’d itched his palm.
I could feel Rhyan’s eyes now, boring into my bare back. I could always sense his gaze, feel the heat of where his eyes went. But to my surprise, in that moment his aura reached out, like a gentle brush against my shoulders, and then it cocooned me with a cool reassuring breeze. My heart pounded as its familiar, calming sensation wrapped around me, seeking me out. He’d been unbound. And for a second, I felt less naked, less exposed in my dress.
But then the air around me chilled, and a torch flickered out, the hallway darkening. Imperator Hart’s aura was pulsating with his displeasure. He’d wanted Ka Hart to be the final Ka to enter before Emperor Theotis—proof he was the more powerful of the two Imperators. But the wolves now stood behind us, ready to be introduced last. All at once, Kane stepped forward, dragging me along with him. I huffed, and straightened, trying to separate my body from his as much as possible. But then Imperator Hart’s command played through my mind, and all of my will to avoid Kane’s touch vanished as a sharp pain twinged down my arms.
I knew I didn’t want this. I knew I wanted to pull away—to shout no, but I couldn’t. Because there was only pain if I did. And because I knew Imperator Hart was right. Ka Kormac wasn’t going to let me go. Not without a fight.
Kane grunted and I was led through the end of the corridor, then down a grand staircase draped in purple carpeting. Golden lamps jutted out from the walls all around me as I stepped out onto a white marble floor with thousands of golden stars embedded in its shiny surface. Music played softly as hundreds of trays full of wine floated back and forth across the room. Cascades of gardenias fell from the ceiling, creating canopies across the room. Vines, braided with the flowers trailed across the center of each table, while candles flickered between the greens. The scent was intoxicating, almost overwhelming with its force, becoming more potent with each breath I took.
Moving slowly through the room, their heads held high and their eyes slowly taking in the details of each noble’s dress and jewels were the Empire’s most elite Lumerians. Layers upon layers of fabric in satin, silk, and lace draped across the figures of each woman I saw, all in an assortment of colors representing their Kavim.
My cheeks reddened, and I was suddenly all too aware of how little fabric I’d been afforded, and just how much of my body had been left on display. I resisted the urge to play with my hair, to spread it across the expanse of my chest. The Emperor’s servants had curled my long layers, and twisted the locks to fall over one shoulder. I’d tried my best to center the curls across my chest, to conceal the evidence of my contract with Mercurial. Between that the low lights, the golden lines of the Valalumir could not be seen. But I still felt too on display.
The herald’s voice boomed, and I could feel the shift in attention all at once, feel hundreds of eyes fall on me, on my dress, moving from my exposed cleavage, to the sharpness of my exposed hip bone, and then between my legs where the thin cloth just barely covered me.
I swallowed roughly, willing my free hand to remain at my side, to not try and hide or draw any more attention to myself. But I could already feel the judgment in their auras, hear the whispers and the hushed laughter, mixed with scandalized gasps. Nobles were reaching for each other, their fingers pointing to me. And then to the Arkturion at my side. Imperator Hart hadn’t just marked me as Glemarian. He’d marked me as his whore. And all the nobility knew it.
I held my chin high, but I was trembling, and beside me Kane made a grunt of amusement.
It felt like an eternity was slowly passing as I fought to remain still, but finally our announcement was complete, and we all moved aside. Imperator Kormac was announced next.
Each name read out by the herald filled me with dread.
Imperator Avery Kormac. Arkturion Waryn Kormac. And then, Lord Viktor Kormac. Brockton’s name was notably missing. But I could hear its absence with every fiber of my being. My heart hammered.
The wolves began their descent of the staircase, their silver armor glinting as the flickering flames of the lamps hit each pellet, and the sharpened steel of their blades shined.
“Of course, they’re still fucking armed,” Dario muttered.
“They’re always armed,” I said. Clearly, the benefits of having an uncle for Emperor meant that privilege extended to the capital and inside the walls of the Palace as well.
The wolves of Ka Kormac clustered together at the side of the dance floor, standing beneath a flag boasting their sigil. I’d been so overwhelmed with our entry, so aware of everyone’s eyes on me, I hadn’t realized that each of the twelve Kavim had a flag. They were all delicately blowing against the soft breezes entering from the windows near each flickering lamp.
Without thinking, I began searching through the sigils, my heart pounding as I sought out the one that always made my heart leap—that felt like home. The one I loved most, and missed desperately. A full moon made of silver between golden seraphim wings. Across the ballroom’s dance floor at nearly the other end of the room, I found it painted onto a red flag dangling from the high ceiling. The red was perfect, unlike my garish dress. It was Batavia red. A surge of pride rushed through me.
I eagerly looked beneath it to the members of my Ka, searching for the golden Laurel of the Arkasva, and my father’s dark hair beneath it.
But as the golden laurel came into view, its leaves glinting with firelight, I saw red hair nestled around it. Arianna’s hair. Arianna was Arkasva Batavia.
For just a moment, I’d forgotten. Forgotten my father was dead. That I wouldn’t see him tonight. That I wouldn’t see him on any night. Never again.
Someone grabbed my hand, squeezing tight.
Meera. Her chin quivered as her eyes fell on the same sight. Arianna in our father’s laurel. Standing to her right was Naria in the golden diadem that should have been mine, the title of Heir Apparent that was rightfully Meera’s. And holding her hand, wearing that same angry expression from earlier, with a thick golden ring on his finger, was Tristan.
I felt almost dizzy, my knees shaking as the order to kneel came from the herald. Emperor Theotis’s consort entered, wearing a shimmery dress that was nearly identical to the one I’d seen her in when she attended the Valyati ball. It felt like a lifetime ago.
The trumpet sounded, its notes reverberating, followed by a shout of, “He comes! All kneel for His Majesty, Emperor Theotis, High Lord of Lumeria Nutavia!”
Meera released my hand as she sank to her knees, and I followed, my stomach roiling, while I tried desperately to not expose myself as I sat. The dress left me almost no room to properly kneel. I had to stay high on my knees, and keep my legs pressed tightly together, then readjust the straps over my shoulders before they moved too low. Quickly, I made sure my curls covered the center of my chest.
I could have strangled Imperator Hart for a million reasons. But at this moment, I couldn’t forgive him for leaving me so exposed. It wasn’t just humiliating. It was dangerous. In this lighting my Valalumir mark was still difficult to see. But I didn’t trust it would remain concealed. And I would bet that the Emperor and those closest to him were well versed in Afeyan contracts and would recognize the mark for what it was.
A hush came over the room. Emperor Theotis, and his Warlord, Arkturion Pompellus Agrippa, the man known as the Blade, descended the stairs.
Centered on the dais at the front of the room, Theotis began to speak. His voice had the same eerily soft, yet commanding tone it had earlier. But I couldn’t hear a word he said. Because as I looked up from adjusting my gown again, I realized that standing straight across the ballroom from me was the Bastardmaker. His black, beady eyes were watching my every breath, watching in particular the space where my dress no longer existed. His hand moved to his blade, his reddish fingers tightening on the hilt, his gaze never wavering.
I could see the accusation in his eyes. Feel it in his aura. The anger. The hunger. The hatred. Murderer. Murderer.
Viktor knelt by his side, his blond hair pulled back by the silver claws of his diadem. One by one, the soturi of Ka Kormac, who’d been allowed to stand guard instead of bowing, turned their gaze from the Emperor to me. Slowly, their legs widened into fighting stances, their hands slid down to their hilts, fingers tightening.
“I welcome you to Numeria,” the Emperor said, lifting his arms. “Rise. I thank you all for indulging me on this eve of Asherah’s Feast Day. It’s been too long since we last honored our ancestors with a celebration such as this—with a Valabellum. With so much change in the Empire, it is good for us all to come together. We recently defeated a new threat of akadim, thanks to the leadership of our Arkturion Pompellus.”
Applause broke out. The Blade stepped forward, his keen eyes vigilant and observing, even as he bowed, his red Arkturion cloak falling over his shoulders.
“And,” Emperor Theotis continued, “We celebrate the victories won by Imperator Kormac. Thanks to his strength and leadership, the new threat of akadim in the South has been annihilated.”
Annihilated? He’d done nothing. Rhyan and I had slain more akadim than he’d ever encountered.
“We have even managed to save the life of one taken by the monsters,” the Emperor continued, “Lady Meera Batavia. Step forward.”
Meera didn’t hesitate. She picked up the bottom of her dress—Glemarian green and cut into the actual style of a Bamarian gown. Her skin glowed in the torchlights, and she smiled, turning and waving to everyone in the room as she glided forward. Only I noticed the frosty shift in her aura when she paused in the direction of Arianna.
The nobles applauded, shouting congratulations and well wishes on her rescue. I could feel that some were genuine with their emotion, empathetic to her ordeal.
But not everyone was happy. Beside me, I could feel the ripple of Imperator Hart’s annoyance. The Emperor’s words had been carefully selected. Credit was not being given to Devon Hart, the man who’d proclaimed himself her savior and rescuer. And his hold on Meera was being called into question. Which meant my own was next.
“Imperator Kormac,” the Emperor continued, “saw a new threat in the South, and he immediately formed a task force. Because of his brilliant planning and assignment, sending Soturion Rhyan Hart to find Lady Meera, she was found safe, and then graciously cared for after the fact by Imperator Hart.”
Meera smiled and approached Imperator Kormac, curtseying before him.
The sight made me sick—and yet, as she rose and turned to face Imperator Hart there was a defiance in her eyes. She was challenging his claim on her.
The small rebellion left a lightness in my chest—but it was short-lived.
Amidst the applause for Imperator Kormac, Meera made her way back to my side, holding Imperator Hart’s vicious gaze the entire time.
The Emperor clapped. “Yes. yes. And thanks to Imperator Kormac’s efforts, we smoothly transitioned power in the South, and welcomed our newest Arkasva, Her Grace, Arianna Batavia, High Lady of Bamaria.”
I bit my lip as fresh cheers erupted through the room. Meera’s eyes met mine again. Her mouth tightened, only the smallest reveal that she, too, was affected. But then her noble training returned and her face was once again neutral.
“With our hearts and minds on recent tragedies that have plagued Bamaria, and Ka Batavia, we must acknowledge,” Emperor Theotis continued, “that not all have been accounted for. Lady Morgana still remains in captivity.”
The room hushed, everyone’s aura suddenly reaching out as if poking at me. I could feel their feelings of pity and worry, but also fear and horror. It made my stomach turn to feel so much of it at once.
“And we have still not heard any word from Arkturion Aemon Melvik. It has been over a month since we sent soturi to locate him. But our fears for his safety grow by the day. And that is why I want to thank Arkturion Waryn Kormac for the great service he has provided in protecting not only his home of Korteria, but Bamaria as well. During these trying times he has been named the acting Arkturion, and I am proud to say the South has never been safer from the threat of akadim.”
The nobles cheered and shouted, and the Bastardmaker stepped forward, his hateful beady eyes taking in Meera’s slight form as he lifted a fist into the air, accepting his applause. The claps became louder, more excited. He was being hailed as a hero.
But all I saw was a monster. The man who’d given Brockton his eyes, who’d passed on his cruel nature, and his disgusting proclivities.
And worst of all. The man who’d given him free access to Jules.
I reached for the hilt of a sword that wasn’t on my hip. Gods, I itched for it. For the chance to run him through, right then and there.
“Now, the South is safe. I commend Imperator Kormac’s leadership. But we shall also mention the latest activities in the North under Imperator Hart’s leadership.” Emperor Theotis’s eyes narrowed, his bushy eyebrows coming together. “First, I am glad to see that Soturion Rhyan has delivered Lady Lyriana to safety. We worried about the two of you for quite some time. I thank the Gods you’re safe.”
“It was my duty,” Imperator Hart said, speaking jovially, his arms outstretched. But I could feel the tension he was trying to control. The jealousy and uncertainty in his aura. He wasn’t being afforded the credit he so desperately craved.
Good.
“Now,” Theotis continued, “I thought for sure Lady Lyriana would return home when found. And return to the arms of her betrothed, my grand-nephew. After all what more could a girl want after such an ordeal, but to be safe in the arms of her intended, and to see her Ka’s new Arkasva come into her own?” The Emperor frowned. “But, if I am to believe what I’ve been told, her heart has been swayed by another?”
“Young love, Your Majesty,” Imperator Hart called out. “What can you do? She saw our Arkturion, and got an eyeful of his immense strength, and power.” He paused, the innuendo of his words hanging in the air as my cheeks burned. The room was filling with laughter. “It took no time at all before Lady Lyriana found herself … bitten … by love.”
The laughter was now a cacophonous cackle. Kane came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his hands pressing into my belly. I stiffened, my pulse racing, and my skin crawling. And from across the dance floor, I could feel the hungry, predatory eyes of Ka Kormac all over me, imagining the circumstances of the lie, fantasizing about doing the same to me.
I shifted uncomfortably, unable to escape. Kane pinched my stomach through the little bit of fabric between us.
“She’s not the only one, Your Majesty,” Kane said, “who was bitten. Look at her beauty, her youthfulness, her … pliability.” Then before I could react, he spun me in his arms, leaned me backward and smashed his lips against my mouth. I stifled a cry. His breath was rancid, his nails digging into my skin as he pulled me closer, making sure I felt exactly how excited he was right then.
Bile rose in my throat, and my breath came short, but I was determined to keep my lips shut, to not let this go any further. I wanted to get away from him, to push him off. And yet, everything inside me was urging him closer. Even my balance. I was slipping and couldn’t find my center. He’d pushed me back too far, forcing me to rely completely on him to keep from falling. If I did, I knew my dress wouldn’t stay in place. I’d be exposed before my worst enemies, before the most powerful leaders in Lumeria.
Kane only pressed harder into me. There were black spots in my vision. I tried to turn my head, to break the kiss, even as I was forced to cling to him with even more fervor, to pull his body closer in my desperation to stay standing. The bottoms of my shoes began to slip. And yet, with every attempt to pull my mouth away, my blood heated painfully, and stabbing sensations ran through my limbs.
I hissed, my limbs trembling with disgust, my body desperate to push back, but I was completely, helplessly at the mercy of my blood contract. And my betrothed.
Kane groaned, his lips punishing until I was fighting back the tears in my eyes. Only then he released me, and I stumbled backward, into Meera’s arms, coughing back bile. My stomach was roiling. Gods, I wanted to vomit. I wanted to shower, and rip off this fucking dress, and then strangle Kane and Imperator Hart with it. But all I could do was stand there, following orders, and watching as he stepped forward to perform some mindless victory dance. Like I was the prize.
The musicians began to play a tune, each note plucked with a kind of vile humor.
Bawdy laughter crashed against my ears, and my hands were clenched into fists at my side with so much tension my shoulders hurt. Then suddenly I was only aware of one thing. Rhyan’s aura, stormy, and cold, but protective, wrapping itself around me. Hugging me. Holding me.
He stood several feet away, his hand linked with Amalthea’s. But his eyes were on me, heavy and pained, his jaw tight. The restraint he was exhibiting was clear in every sharp line of his features. He wasn’t outwardly showing any emotion, not even anger, but it was bubbling under the surface. I could feel it with the same clarity I felt my own. And yet, he was holding back so he could comfort me in the only way he could find.
Emperor Theotis signaled for the musicians to halt, and Kane’s dance finally ended. “Yes, yes, quite a show. You may return to your Ka, Arkturion Kane. Next time you decide to regale us with a dance, bring your bride.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.
The Emperor’s bushy eyebrows drew together, his eyes like slits. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I hear there was maybe some quickness to this betrothal?”
“You could say that, Your Majesty,” Imperator Hart said, clapping Kane on the back. “The lady did not wish to wait for … all the benefits, shall we say, that come with marriage, once her feelings were reciprocated.”
“Interesting,” said the Emperor. “Considering she waited a whole two years for Lord Tristan Grey.”
By the Gods. Had he just … My cheeks reddened.
The Emperor looked out into the crowd, a hand over his eyes as if he were searching. “Ah there you are, Lord Tristan.” He gestured for him to step forward. “What say you to this sudden development?”
I forced myself to breathe as Tristan complied, walking into the center of the room.
“I was waiting for my true love, Lady Naria, to wake up and see me, Your Majesty.” He bowed. “Clearly Lady Lyriana was doing the same, only for a man she did not yet know.”
“Yet what about,” Imperator Kormac asked, his lips pulled back into a sneer, “the lady’s engagement to my son? The only engagement sanctioned by His Majesty, and Her Grace, Arkasva Batavia.”
The Emperor grinned, his smile more wolf-like than I’d ever seen.
“That is an important question,” the Emperor said. “Perhaps nothing is settled just yet. We must see Lady Meera returned to her homeland at once—now that we can safely see she is quite recovered. We thank Imperator Hart for his hospitality. However, all things come to an end. Lady Meera, please stand now with your Ka.”
“As you wish,” Imperator Hart said tightly. He nodded at Meera, and she quickly gathered her skirts and crossed the room, making her way to Arianna’s side. There they embraced and hugged. A sight that would always leave my stomach twisting.
“Very well.” The Emperor clapped. “Speaking of returns, I see that we have been graced with the presence of Soturion Rhyan. But not just Soturion Rhyan, Lord Rhyan once more.” He continued to clap. “Am I to understand that our forsworn Bamarian refugee, has been absolved of all past crimes, and is now an Heir again?”
“He is, Your Majesty,” Imperator Hart said.
Emperor Theotis watched Imperator Hart for a long moment before he nodded. “Very well. Since that is the case, Imperator Hart, I hope you will control his travels, outside of Glemaria. Do not let him stray so far from home again, hmm?” His eyes flicked to Rhyan, and for a moment, my heart stopped beating. But then he placed his full attention on me. “Now, as for Lady Lyriana. Step forward, my dear. For what in Lumeria, are we to do with you?”
My cheeks heated. I tried desperately to adjust my dress, and retain some level of modesty, as I stepped back into the center of the dance floor. I curtseyed before the Emperor, my eyes remaining on him.
“You look,” he said softly, “enchanting. You know, we went years not seeing the youngest of His Grace’s daughters. The youngest Batavia heir. Then finally we saw her on Valyati, then again when she fought so bravely in the arena. Now we get to see her dressed up so elegantly again tonight.” His eyes ran slowly up and down my body. “We’ve never,” he coughed, “seen so much of you, my lady.”
The nobles standing closest to me began to giggle.
I breathed in through my nose as slowly as possible, rolling my shoulders back, lifting my chin, and forced my face to remain neutral. I forced myself to forget that my lips were crawling with disgust. Or that my heart was pounding out of my chest.
“Nothing else left to see,” shouted a soturion.
Kane was by my side a second later, his arm slung over my shoulder. “Nothing I haven’t seen up close,” he said.
The Emperor stepped forward, his aura quiet, but commanding. He was displeased. He wasn’t interested in these games. It was obvious from his expression that with all the absolute power he possessed, he considered this beneath him.
“Be that as it may,” he said softly, and wiped his hands together as if he felt he’d gotten them dirty in this exchange, “you know, no wedding for a member of our ruling Kavim is binding without my presence at the ceremony.”
Imperator Hart stepped forward, joining us in the middle of the room. “Of course, Your Majesty. We are well aware. However, we didn’t want the eagerness of our couple to interfere with the Valabellum.” Imperator Hart lowered his chin, and for once, I realized that he might have overplayed his hand. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to gloat, or if I was afraid of what it meant for me. Either way, I was stuck in the center of it, and between Imperators, there was never a winner. “Full wedding plans are in place for a later time,” he said.
At this, Kane slid his hand around my stomach, leaning into the Godsdamned rumors.
“Well, the lady is young,” Imperator Kormac called. “Such creatures are fickle. Perhaps she might still change her mind. She may also wish for a warmer climate in the end as well.”
“I can assure you she has adapted most wonderfully to the cold,” Imperator Hart said.
“I, myself, have always encouraged our young women to learn to think with their minds,” the Emperor said. “Perhaps, before I attend the nuptials, we shall allow the lady to be reminded of her options. And all jokes aside, however humorous they may be, we acknowledge that without my presence as a witness, no such marriage or activities to follow said ceremony, have occurred. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”
My hair blew from the force of Devon Hart’s aura.
He bowed, and then stepped back, his hand on my shoulder, his fingers pressing down to my bone.
“Good,” said the Emperor. “And now, to celebrate the reason we are all here. To Asherah’s Feast Day!” He signaled to the musicians in the corner. “A Voladarim,” he commanded.
Everyone began to cheer, and my heart sank. It was a traditional Lumerian dance, one I’d trained in. One I never, ever would have worn this dress for. Voladarim meant the dance of flying bodies. The movements were full of bounces and lifts by the larger partner.
Imperator Kormac crossed the dance floor in an instant, his predatory eyes taking me in.
“You won’t mind,” he said, addressing Kane, “if the lady starts the dance with me. She is still free to take other dance partners, is she not?”
Kane growled under his breath, but with a clear and obvious nod from the Emperor, Kane released me.
“Lady Lyriana,” Imperator Kormac’s wolfish grin spread across his face. “You are familiar with the Voladarim, aren’t you?”
He knew Godsdamned well that I was. But I smiled sweetly. “I am, Your Highness. I was trained in all dances.”
“All dances?” he asked. “Ah, yes. Forgive me. It’s been some time since I’ve seen you perform. It’s been months since your journey from Bamaria began.” He gripped my waist, and took my hand, pulling me in. “Even longer since your last ball in the South.”
I nearly tripped over the hem of my gown, and immediately tugged the waist back up.
“I have been away for some time, Your Highness,” I said.
His nostrils flared. “And tell me, did you enjoy your journey?” He took my hand, forcing it onto his shoulder, over the golden border of his Imperator robes. Then he squeezed my waist again as the music grew louder, the beat signaling the steps.
“I’m grateful,” I said, performing the opening steps, “that it led me back to my sister.”
“Hmmm. Where else did it lead you?” Imperator Kormac took my wrist, and spun me out, before pulling me against him, lifting me, turning me, and dropping me back on my feet.
“Here,” I said. “Your Highness.”
“Yes, but how was it you arrived in Glemaria?”
My throat was dry. “We stayed very close to the shoreline in an attempt to avoid akadim, keeping east as we made our way to the North.”
“And there you found true love and passion with,” he smirked, “Arkturion Kane?”
I could feel Imperator Hart’s eyes boring into me from behind, commanding me to answer correctly.
“Yes.”
Without warning, Kormac spun me again, throwing me off balance until I crashed into him, more than aware that my dress had shifted and was showing even more cleavage than before. Even my hair falling down the center, covering the worst of Mercurial’s contract, was doing little to shield me. His eyes dipped, and before I could adjust the fabric, he tightened his hold on me, walking us in a circle.
“I do apologize,” I said, “if there was any insult felt by Ka Kormac by my choice. Lord Viktor, of course, is a strong match. But my heart does belong in the North.”
He sneered. “I’ll bet it does.” He turned, looking pointedly at Rhyan, who looked sick as he was dancing with Amalthea.
Rhyan’s eyes widened, then he spun Amalthea out of sight. Nearby, I saw Tristan leading Naria into the dance.
“Tell me more of your journey,” he said, and pulled me closer, his arms locked around my back.
I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck, or lose my balance.
“Tell me about visiting Korteria.” His fingers pressed into my back, right over old wounds. I flinched. “Tell me what Brockton said in his final moments.”
“I–I’m sorry,” I said, sweat beading behind my neck.
“Something the matter?” he asked, his aura suddenly predatory.
“I suddenly feel … a little faint.
“From your gryphon-shit pregnancy?” he asked. “You’ve blossomed into quite a young woman. But you will not mind my saying, you’ve not blossomed into a mother. Not yet. I think you feel fine. You’re clearly untouched by that animal.”
My chest tightened. “How would you know?”
He grazed my cheek with his palm, and it took all I had not to shrink back from his touch.
“You’re not bruised.” He looked down the cut of my dress, following the V of the red material to my waist. “Your northern Imperator should’ve known better. Covered you up.” He slid his hands down my arms, holding them out for display. “I can tell. I’ve seen what Kane has done to his lovers in the past. And you’re not one of them.”
My heart was beating too hard for me to respond.
“Just know this,” he said, lifting me again in his arms. He turned in a circle, and set me on my feet. “Whatever Brockton told you in Vrukshire was a lie.”
“Vrukshire?” I shook my head. “I’m confused. He told me nothing. Because I—”
“Enough. I refuse to play this game when we both know the truth.” He nodded, pressing me against him. “You were there. And I know exactly what you did. I know what Rhyan did as well. And whatever my nephew said to you, in his final, desperate moments, was a lie, and not to be repeated.” He pulled back, just enough for his black eyes to bore into mine.
My breath came short, my lips pulling back into a snarl I couldn’t stop. But then I realized—he was afraid. He knew that Brockton had told me about Jules. He knew I carried the Empire’s deepest, most deadly secret. That was what had stayed his hand all these months—that was why he’d sent Tristan to hunt me.
“Now, my lady, you end this farce of an engagement, and come back to the South willingly. Or I will drag you there myself, along with Lady Meera. We’ll have you both bred within a week—your aunt has already given her blessing. And if by some Moriel-fucking chance that that gryphon-shit Arkturion did get you pregnant—or, more likely, that the forsworn-shit Rhyan did—we’ll remove it. We can clean you out. Then we’ll start fresh.”
“Tell me then,” I said seething. “What do you think Brockton told me?”
He bared his teeth. “Nothing at all. Because, as you said, you weren’t there.”
“Exactly,” I gritted.
“Consider carefully. Because, if you had the conversation I suspect you did, you’d be in grave danger. Certain secrets can be shared, but only if you’re willing to accept the consequences. When you know too much, you become a liability. As do those around you.”
“Meera wasn’t there,” I said quickly.
“No, no, of course, not. But Lord Rhyan was.” He glanced over at him again. “And if you think I haven’t figured out exactly how he got there, or how he got you out of the Shadow Stronghold after I locked you in, then you’re not as smart as they keep telling me you are. Your little bodyguard is useless to you—as is his entire Ka. Remember Tristan? Your old hunter? One word from me and he’ll expose Rhyan. And the Palace is the perfect place to do it. The wards won’t let him use his vorakh. It’s the one place he can’t escape. When secrets are under threat of exposure, everyone is in danger. And you, my lady, are trapped.”
The music grew louder, my ears ringing. The Imperator lifted me one last time before dropping me, his hands squeezing my wrists.
“End the engagement and these games, and your true paramour, the one you’re actually fucking, lives. Fail, and you’ll watch him fall alongside your country.” The music ended and he walked away, leaving my heart pounding outside of my chest.
Rhyan started toward me, but Imperator Hart cut him off, reaching for my waist.
“I told you to convince him!” he snarled.
“I tried! It doesn’t matter!” I practically yelled. “He doesn’t care about that.”
“Why? What the fuck did he say to you?” Imperator Hart gripped my arms.
I glared, breaking free from his hold. “He said he’s coming to claim me. And, if I don’t give in, that’s the end of Rhyan. Because he knows. He knows about Rhyan’s vorakh.”