Chapter 47 Ariana #2
“I’d like to ask you of a rumor,” I said, not answering him, for two could play at this game.
“Please.” He was still smiling, gray eyes darkening.
“Do you have a Lysian by the name of Iona hidden somewhere amongst your territory?” I asked of Erik’s sister, sitting back in my seat. I would never cower to him, no matter how cold and powerful his presence was.
Edda froze mid-chew, turning her onyx eyes to me. Though she said nothing, I felt her scorn. She didn’t want me to push the hospitality of our host.
“You intrigue me,” he said as if it were a compliment. “I swear to tell you mine if you tell me yours first.” There was a spark of enjoyment in his gaze.
A moment passed between us, a silent standoff.
“I could have saved him but chose not to,” I spoke of Fraser.
Landin’s head swiveled so fast it was likely to come off. I was a Bavadrin, sworn to protect the Leader Superior, and I hadn’t. In fact, I had wished for his death more than anything else in the entire world. And now, I announced that truth to someone we could not trust.
“Why?” Clause asked, curiosity dripping from him.
“Why?” I was taken aback by the question.
“Yes, why did you do such a thing to dear old dad? And do be honest, or I won’t tell you mine.” He observed me as if he were consuming me with a look. There was no escape. I felt surrounded even with him just sitting before us.
“Because he butchered my mother in front of me,” I answered flatly.
I expected Clause to smile in response, but for the first time, he didn’t. Instead, he appeared somber, the shine in his gaze blackening.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was low but clear.
I didn’t know what to do with that. It was not expected.
There was the barest flicker of kindness in the response and even his eyes.
We stared at one another, sharing an odd and unexpected moment of understanding.
He viewed me with absolutely no judgment.
A strange and tortured sympathy came from him.
Clause then blinked several times in succession, as if clearing his mind, and withdrew. When his gaze found mine once more, his demeanor shifted back to a more playful one. He reached for his wine, twirling it lazily in his hands.
“Iona is around here somewhere,” he confirmed before bringing the glass to his lips.
The Lysians had always been right. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from asking about her further. The last thing I needed was for Clause to discover just how desperate I was to learn everything about where she was or what had been done to her.
“You built a wall of mist to protect your people when you escaped from the Lysians?” he asked. There was no doubt that someone had fed him this information.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Intriguing. How did someone like you go unnoticed for so long?” His gaze slid to Edda, who sat beside me, watching our interaction.
She hardly touched her food, nor did she make a single sound. I wondered if Clause knew what she was, what form her conjuring had taken. That she was a Seer. He never asked about her or Landin’s abilities. His attention was mainly my burden to bear.
“You know, you and I are a lot alike.” He turned back to me. “We both killed our fathers.”
He seemed stuck in the dark and gruesome.
I did not respond because I did not want to admit that we could have had something like that in common.
My hands were not responsible for Fraser’s death, but my actions placed the blame on my shoulders, anyway.
Were it another Bavadrin being put to death by the Lysians, then I would have tried to save them.
Clause moved his arm, reaching out before me, palm up.
“May I have your hand?” he asked.
Goose bumps spread over my skin at the request. For a moment, I hesitated, my instincts screaming at the dangerous presence. One heartbeat, two, I relented, sliding my gloved fingers into his waiting palm.
Even through the fabric his touch was cool, almost unnervingly so, yet his grip was firm.
He observed my hand in his, running a thumb over my knuckles.
Then, without a word, he began to tug on the fingers of my glove.
The movement was unhurried, intentional, as if savoring the act.
My pulse quickened, each tug sending ripples of tension through me.
I could pull my arm away, but then he would be left holding the glove alone, the bare skin of my hand exposed. I remained frozen.
He was going to touch me. I had no idea of how truly potent his abilities were but I desperately did not want to find out this way.
I wanted to glance at Edda, to seek guidance or reassurance, but my gaze refused to stray from my hand in his, from the glove slipping further and further away.
My heart pounded, each beat louder than the last.
This was a game for him, cat and mouse. He was seeing how far he could go. But if he thought me a simple mouse, he was mistaken. If Clause fancied himself a predator, then so was I. He was not my King. I would not tremble before him.
Landin shot to his feet, his sword drawn in one swift motion. The gleam of steel caught the light. It was dangerously close to breaking the agreement that we had signed. Clause had not harmed me, not yet, but Landin’s actions carried the threat.
“Landin, sit down,” I commanded, my voice sharp, my gaze never wavering from the Sidhe King before me.
Clause stopped what he was doing, gray eyes flickering to Landin before narrowing ever so slightly. He did not speak, but his presence seemed to swell, pressing down on the room.
Landin remained rooted in place, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his blade. A charged moment stretched between us, brittle and trembling on the verge of snapping.
Finally, I tore my eyes off the threat before me to look upon the threat next to me. “We had an agreement coming here. It has not been broken, and you certainly will not be the one to break it. Is that understood?”
Landin glanced back at me defiantly, jaw clenched.
“Better do as she asks.” It was the first time Clause had genuinely spoken to anyone other than me. “Patience is not a strong suit of mine, and I will not be threatened in my home again. This is the only warning you will have, boy.” His voice was calm, though the weight of that warning was immense.
“You are threatening her,” Landin snarled, a storm of anger and a need to protect fueling him.
“While it is true that my touch can be seen as a threat,” Clause agreed, his thumb moving over my nearly ungloved hand, “I swear to the Spirits that I wish Ariana no harm. I only hope to understand her more.”
“Landin,” I said his name through clenched teeth, pulling his attention. Finally, something clicked in that stubborn skull of his. He sheathed his blade, and his butt found his seat once more.
The glove was removed a mere second later, and my hand rested in Clause’s. He shifted his hold so that his fingers brushed against my wrist and his lip curved up.
“Your pulse is racing,” he commented.