Chapter Twenty-Six Crown of Ash #2
"Please do tell your husband that his debt to the Crown and Rose has reached unspeakable proportions."
He was loud enough for the people around us to start paying attention.
Especially at the mention of his popular brothel.
The backhanded comment made Adan out right grin, and the Lady Collet cringed.
Her small mouth pursed as if trying to hold back a rebuttal.
"Please tell him I will be expecting a payment no later than the weeks end."
"Sir, to talk of such things... here... now..." she was gasping in shock and clutching her chest just below her neck.
Nox took a step forward and spoke, only for the Lady Collet to hear.
"Yes, talk of money and whores and bastards at such a lovely gathering, it is rather tactless. Don't you agree?"
His dark voice laced with venom and warning.
"Remember... end of the week." His voice dropped deeper.
"I would hate to send the butcher after him."
That graceful aristocratic mask fell back into place as he straightened to his full height.
He offered Adan his arm, she slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow, leading her away from the retched lady.
"I think I love you." Adan whisper playfully, and he flashed her his white teeth in a spectacular smile.
"Lady Collet is the most odious woman alive. She deserved it— I would have done worse had there not been so many witnesses." His tone spoke of unforgivable violence, and it sent a pleasant, arousing shiver down her spine.
"I am used to their taunts and barbs." She shrugged, but she wasn't used to people standing up for her.
She could feel the shift in the air—eyes turned, hushed whispers.
She'd been a ghost here once—nothing more than a weapon for the king's amusement, a shadow with a blade.
But tonight, she was something else entirely.
With Nox at her side, she was not just a slave to a crown, but a woman with a choice—however dangerous that might be.
Adan scanned the room, her sharp eyes taking in the familiar faces.
It wasn't easy to ignore the weight of memories that rushed back as they moved through the glittering crowd.
The ornate carvings of the walls. The heavy tapestries.
The scent of roses mingling with the faint aroma of alcohol and perfumes.
This castle had been her cage. And tonight, it might be the one thing she would tear down.
Nox's voice broke the tension, low and intimate, as his lips brushed just under her ear. "Would you like to dance, love?"
She exhaled slowly, "It is a party after all." She glanced up at Nox, giving him her hand, along with a soft smile. His hand at her back, he steered her into the middle of the room.
As bodies pushed in around them, Nox pulled Adan in closer. Both of them careful to survey the room while looking unsuspicious.
They slipped into the rhythm of the music like predators hiding in plain sight, cloaked in grace and subtle tension.
The swell of the waltz masked the quiet intensity in their steps, in the slight press of Nox's hand against the curve of Adan's spine.
She moved with fluid precision, every motion honed from years of training—but tonight, the dance wasn't just a performance.
"You're trembling," Nox murmured, close enough that only she could hear.
"I am not," she lied, chin lifted, her gaze scanning the sea of silks and smug faces. "I'm vibrating with anticipation."
His laugh was a low, intimate thing, rumbling against her chest where their bodies touched. "You're a menace."
They moved in sync with the music, but their focus never truly rested on the melody or the crowd's polite applause.
It was all smoke and mirrors—nothing more than a disguise for what lurked beneath.
Her fingers tightened ever so slightly on his shoulder, and his grip at her waist shifted from guiding to grounding.
They turned again, blending seamlessly into the crowd, the illusion of nobility perfectly performed.
No one looking at them would see two assassins poised on the edge of rebellion.
They would only see the Shadow Lord dancing with his vassal—an odd pair, perhaps, but easily dismissed in a court so obsessed with its own grandeur.
But behind their eyes, beneath their skin, something else stirred—older than vengeance, deeper than revenge.
Hope.
Nox's fingers brushed her back once more, a quiet, steadying presence. Her mis-matched eyes narrowed at the prince not far from them. Her eyes flicked to Darius, who moved with an arrogant ease, surrounded by sycophants and guards who barely masked their boredom.
Nox followed her gaze. "No sign of Cias yet."
"Don't worry," she murmured, letting her lips ghost along his cheek as she spun under his arm, "he can't be far."
He caught her again with practiced ease, drawing her back into the safe harbour of his chest. "Soon," he said.
She leaned back into him ever so slightly. "I want his blood," she whispered, voice low and steady. "I want him to beg."
"He will," Nox promised.
She wanted to kiss him, all it would take would be for her to lift onto her toes. But doing that here--now--it wasn't in the plan. Their lips meeting would have to wait. They would have to be patient. As if sensing her longing, Nox brushed him thumb down her cheek, just over her tattoo.
The moment distracted her enough to not even notice that Darius at slung up beside them, clearing his throat.
All the bones and muscles in her body locked down.
"May I cut in?" He asked, smirking like a serpent with a mouse in its teeth. Nox's jaw ticked, his fingers curling possessively around Adan, but he managed to drop his hands at his side and stepped back.
"Of course, your highness." Nox gave his prince a customary bow, and pulled back. Leaving Adan alone with Darius.
Adan turned slowly, schooling her features into the cool mask she'd worn for years. The one that had made nobles flinch and the king smirk with pride.
But inside, her pulse hammered like war drums.
Darius offered his hand with mock politeness. She placed hers in his grip with the calm of a blade being unsheathed.
They danced.
Or rather, he guided her in something that resembled a waltz—more possession than partnership. His hand curled too tightly around her waist, fingers pressing against the base of her spine like he owned her.
"You clean up well," he said, eyes roving with a proprietary hunger that made her skin crawl.
Adan smiled sweetly. "Thank you, your Highness."
He leaned in, nose brushing her temple. "Aren't you going to wish me happy birthday?"
Her spine straightened as if someone had poured ice down it. Adan wished Darius a Happy Birthday, but it lacked sincerity. She wanted to pull away, but there was no way she could accomplish it without causing a scene. She tried to find Nox in the crowd as Darius spun her about.
Darius noticed. "Ah," he murmured. "Missing your partner, already?"
Adan didn't blink, her heart thudded once, sharply. "Lennox is a superb dancer."
He laughed, too loud. Too pleased. "You two must have gotten quite close over the last couple of months." Her expression didn't change, but her nails dug into his shoulder through the fabric of his dinner jacket.
Adan's throat dried. She kept moving, one step, two. Another spin. She could feel Nox watching them, and hoped that he was smart enough not to do anything rash.
"I must say," Darius continued, voice syrupy and smugness, "I'm impressed he managed to civilize you. Though I suppose even the wildest beasts can be tamed... with the right leash."
"You mistake patience for domestication," she said coolly, her voice dipped in velvet and threatening. Adan was already spinning away, only to be caught again in his arms once more.
"Careful," he hissed through his teeth. "You're only here because I allow it."
"And I'm only dancing with you," she said sweetly, "because I haven't decided which artery to sever yet."
Darius grinned, but it was tight now. Controlled.
Adan's smile didn't falter, but her eyes—those mismatched, blazing eyes—narrowed when a beautiful dark-skinned beauty walked past. It wasn't her stunning skin or sparking dress that caught Adan's attention.
It was her eyes--the blue--like the ocean after a storm.
Her stomach turned.
Adan knew what those eyes meant--what they marked that woman as. She needed to find Nox immediately.
"Something the matter?" Darius grinned, sensing her displeasure, watching her carefully, gauging her reaction.
Adan didn't look at him--only scanned the crowd, searching for Nox. She couldn't find him anywhere. And the mysterious woman had disappeared in the throngs of the crown. Adan's heart started to pound harder against her chest, and sweat dripped down her spine.
Those women's indigo eyes only meant one thing-- The Dreadmore's had a sphinx. A creature that could tell the future, predict people's actions.
Adan and Nox were beyond fucked.
Darius's grip tightened knowingly. A beat passed—just long enough for his smile to freeze, to calcify into something brittle.
His head dipped to her neck, and her muscles locked.
"I like this stunned silence on you." His fingers dug in, no doubt leaving bruises.
"Perhaps I will take your tongue so that I can enjoy the quiet a bit longer."
He knew--the sphinx had warned the king and prince. This party wasn't just the princes birthday, this was her and Nox's funeral.
The moment of panic passed like a wave over stone—leaving only steel behind. Her body relaxed, deliberately. Limp like a snare undone. She let her lashes lower, just slightly, cloaking her eyes in shadow.
If this was to be their funeral, she would decide how many bodies it took to bury her. Darius mistook her silence for defeat.
"You see now, don't you?" he whispered, breath hot against her ear. "It was always going to end like this." His nose brushed her neck, and she swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat.
Adan's eyes scanned the ballroom once more.
Still no sign of Nox.