Ivy
“Where have you been? Are you okay?” Despite the inherent care in the words, he sounded more irritated than concerned.
Finare and Leseldh were already seated, and Voresta followed her inside and returned to his seat in front of her.
Leseldh’s eyes snapped to her the second she came into view, and he looked genuinely distressed.
As she fell into the seat beside him, his hand clamped down on her thigh, and she could feel his gaze burning her like a brand.
“Is everything alright, my love?” Leseldh’s voice was syrupy, but she could sense a sinister undercurrent in his tone was ready to rise to the surface.
“Yes. I just got a bit caught up in the beauty of this place.” She returned his gaze and willed a small smile to her lips to allay his worry.
Leseldh appeared satisfied with her response. She looked away, unable to resist the urge to check the rows of seating beneath them. Killian’s seat was empty, and his Sire seemed to be looking around for him with a frustrated expression on his face.
She looked back to the stage, watching the performance vacantly. Her mind drifted, and the beautiful yet chilling strains of music became a soundtrack to her thoughts.
Of all the times she’d visited the theatre with Leseldh, she’d never sighted Killian, despite hints of his presence.
But something was different this evening.
She knew she’d find him there. At first, she suppressed the thought, trying her best to focus on the orchestra.
But her determination deteriorated, and she eventually scanned the crowd.
She found Killian almost immediately and was distracted by his presence.
Her eyes would dip to him out of compulsion, and every time she glanced down, his blood-red eyes were upon her.
When her Broodmates slipped away at intermission, Leseldh capitalised on their solitude by sweeping her into a kiss.
Although she’d normally relish in his affection, she knew Killian would be watching them.
She excused herself on the pretence of wanting to go for a walk, but her effort to escape Leseldh’s affections only found her ensnared by another captor.
You look ravishing tonight. Killian’s words echoed a compliment Leseldh had once given her.
Somehow, the words off Killian’s lips sounded sexier than they did from Leseldh.
And fuck, he looked good in that suit. When he clutched her against him, she was reminded of his strength by the firmness of his hold.
Not to mention the hardness of every muscle that was pressed against her.
Remembering the encounter sent a ripple of desire through her body that she wasn’t prepared for. It was as she was bowled sideways by that urge that she realised she was no longer afraid of Killian. With the way the dynamic had changed between them, she knew that he’d figured that out, too.
The male that once stared her down with murderous rage, looked at her tonight like he wanted to eat her alive. She wasn’t sure which look she preferred. Each option led down its own path of destruction.
Most disconcerting to Ivy was the unwarranted attraction she had to him, that had burst to life from nothing.
Instead of feeling fear and revulsion for a male that had terrorised her for months, she found herself drawn to him.
Despite his terrifying displays of violence, the scar he’d marked her with and her Fledgling he’d mercilessly slain before her, he was inexplicably alluring, which ran deeper than his physicality or roguish attractiveness.
As she was rushing back to the box at the end of the intermission, she felt herself being split in half by two different forces—she needed to return to Leseldh as not to draw suspicion, but she also wanted to be near the dark and mysterious, red-eyed Hunter.
Her fear of being caught was the only thing that pulled her away—she’d become accustomed to the level of freedom she’d gained in the wake of the fight in Oaris, and she was desperate to hold onto it.
She glanced to Voresta, who seemed more alert than he was before the intermission.
She was both relieved and disappointed to see that Killian’s seat remained empty for the rest of the evening.
Although the orchestra’s performance ended on a bittersweet note, the tempestuous storm of thoughts and feelings in Ivy’s head and heart left her feeling anything but upbeat as the Idthraki clan left the theatre.