Twenty-One #2
“Of course.” She made for the doors with Seville, and Rorik and I followed without giving Zeverin a second glance.
We trailed behind Kara as she led us up a grand staircase until we reached the third floor of the manor.
Attendants dressed in clean-pressed, tea-length gowns and suits moved quietly about the halls, and they didn’t bother to look up from their tasks to greet us.
Kara didn’t greet them, either. She walked without speaking and finally halted before a large set of doors with brass handles and hungry flames engraved into the blackened wood.
She gave them a shove, and they swung inward, revealing a private sitting area.
A tufted bloodred couch with clawed feet sat before a snarling hearth, the flames licking the black stone and making the ruby veins pop.
A large bay window at the back was framed by potted plants with broad burgundy leaves, and the bench was covered in jewel-toned pillows and throw blankets.
A bar cart near the door was arranged with clean glassware and an array of bottles.
“There are two rooms for you to divvy up however you see fit,” Kara said as she pointed to doors on either side of the room.
“You’ll have a personal set of attendants who will see to your needs while you’re here.
Tonight’s feast begins at nightfall. If there’s nothing else .
. .” She trailed off, hand still on the door as she glanced between us.
“Are the Waterstones presently occupied?” Rorik asked. He’d made his way to the drink cart and was inspecting the wares. I vaguely wondered if he possessed some sort of magic to determine whether the liquid had been tampered with.
Kara watched him carefully. “Ossanna has been conducting meetings all day with suitors. Should I let her know you’re interested?”
“No, I’ll catch her at dinner.” Rorik must’ve deemed one of the drinks safe, because he’d wrapped his long fingers around the neck of the bottle and grabbed a clean glass.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Kara’s gaze slid to Seville briefly, then me, and she left with a curt nod. Rorik waited until the door had clicked shut and her footsteps had faded before he let out a long sigh. With a heavy hand, he filled his glass and then drained it.
“Don’t wait up for me tonight.” Seville flicked her hair over her shoulder and strolled toward her brother. “I have a suitor to woo, after all.”
“Seville,” Rorik groaned as he dragged out her name. “Keep your voice down.” He pointedly glanced around the room. While there were no visible eavesdroppers, that hardly meant our conversation was safe. “Don’t be reckless.”
“Reckless is all I know how to be.” She stole the alcohol from his hand and took a swig straight from the bottle. “You needn’t worry. This is all part of the plan. I need to plant the seed that I’m interested in Zeverin’s mind and then nurture it so he’s ripe for the picking come the gala.”
He glared at her but didn’t try to reclaim his drink. “Fine. I’ll see about getting Ossanna to meet with us privately.” He folded his arms across his chest after scowling at the closed doors. “Don’t want anyone else eavesdropping.”
“Until then, I have some mingling to do.” She took another pull from the bottle of liquor before thrusting it back into Rorik’s hand. Then she sauntered toward the room on the right and placed her hand on the door. “I’m going to freshen up. Do let me know if anything exciting happens.”
“Will do,” he murmured to her back as she strolled out.
“I should do the same,” I said.
“Primping for someone in particular?” Rorik asked.
“It is a coupling fete, and we are supposed to blend in.” I offered him a sly grin. “What better way to do that than to find a partner?”
Heat flashed through Rorik’s eyes. “Gods help me, I’m going to have to tie you down just to keep you from getting in trouble.”
I smirked. “I don’t think that would have the effect you’d want.”
He stalked toward me, and his magic flared outward from his body to rub against my skin. Static swelled like lightning about to strike. And damn if it didn’t excite me, if I didn’t want to tilt my head upward so I could watch the clouds break and soak in the downpour that followed.
“Is that what you want? To be bound?” Power hummed from deep within him, and it ignited our bond with brilliant clarity.
Still, I wasn’t fast enough to react to it, to try to stop him from making a move.
Deep down, I wasn’t sure I would have, anyway.
Smooth vines sprouted from the nearby plants and wrapped my ankles, and two more slithered up my torso to lightly drape around my arms.
Desire roared to life within me. I wanted him to restrain me.
I wanted him to explore me for hours, to bring me to the edge over and over again before finally giving in to release with me.
But as tantalizing as those thoughts were, I refused to let him know they existed.
If he was going to toy with my emotions with that kiss of his, then I could do the same.
Leaning into the vines’ hold, I bit my lower lip and held his gaze. “See what I mean?”
He did nothing but stare, and yet a torrent of longing shot through our bond. His longing. If I kept this up, maybe he’d break again. Maybe he’d pull me into him and explore my mouth all over again.
“If you need an excuse, it’ll make our heartbond stronger,” I murmured.
He inched closer so he was just a breath away from my lips. “What makes you think I need an excuse?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my words like a hum, “just that comment you made about our kiss.”
His gaze dipped to my lips. “Sometimes desire outweighs rational thought.”
Before I could come up with a response, Seville breezed into the room. She’d changed into a slim-fitting forest-green gown with a slit up her thigh, revealing her family crest.
With a suffering look, she sighed. “Please save that shit for behind closed doors. I don’t mind a good show, and gods know we’ll have plenty of opportunities for that this weekend, but you are my brother.”
The vines disappeared as Rorik straightened. “We’ll go downstairs with you.”
Seville raised a brow. “Oh? Afraid what will happen if I leave you two alone?”
“No.” Rorik made for the door. “I just need to keep an eye on both of you, apparently.”
Seville tipped her head toward me, and I smirked. “Well, I wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing.”
“Lovely,” she said as she linked her arm with mine. “Men are weak in the presence of powerful women. I’ll have Zeverin groveling before my pointed heels in no time.”
Rorik cursed as he pushed open the door. “That is a truly horrific image.”
“Anything for my family, Rorik.” She said it so quietly I thought I’d imagined it, but I watched as Rorik flinched.
Then his shoulders slackened. He didn’t respond, though.
Perhaps he couldn’t. Because in that moment it was abundantly clear to me that Seville would do anything to protect her own—and that included Rorik.
And I wondered if he’d ever heard her admit as much, or at least believed her when she claimed to care for him, too.
He tilted his head ever so slightly to glance at his sister.
And while Seville had already moved on, heading aimlessly toward the other guests, I could see every warring emotion colliding in Rorik’s expression: relief, despair, frustration, acceptance.
It was a tumultuous blend of Why did you have to say this now?
and Why couldn’t you have loved me sooner? and my heart ached to hold him.
But of course there wasn’t time for that, and I doubted he would’ve let me anyway. One day, though, I vowed I would hold him the way he deserved. The way he so clearly craved. All I could do was pray he’d accept it instead of push me away.