Chapter 6
Arina
Faces swirl around me in a blur of color and chaos as he spins me around the dance floor. I’m sure they’re all thinking I’m using him in some way to gain an advantage. The thought makes my stomach churn.
“Loosen up, Arina,” he whispers, and I stiffen on instinct, then shimmy my shoulders to try and appease him.
“Actually, I—”
“Let me guess,” he interrupts. “You’re worried they’re going to think you’re using me to gain a spot on the guard?” I narrow my eyes at him, irritated that he knows me this well.
“Well, yes, but—”
He hums. “We all know you’ll shut them up in the first event tomorrow. For tonight? Don’t worry what they think.”
Fuck. He won’t let me get a single word in, and now I’ve lost track of the rebels.
I whip my head around, searching for him.
Eryk is looking at me as if I’ve grown a third eye or an extra appendage.
“Is everything alright?” he asks.
I’m just about to respond, maybe this is my window to finally tell him what I heard in the breezeway, when two thick fingers tap Eryk on the shoulder.
“May I cut in?” His voice is low, murderous, but the smile on his face is a sincere enough mask. Those amber eyes give no hint of the monster I can sense living just beneath the surface.
Those dancing around us continue on as if they’re mechanical cogs in a clock.
Eryk looks surprised, but steps back, bowing like a gentleman and preparing to pass me off to this lethal stranger like I’m merely a trinket they both have an opportunity to play with and exchange at will.
My hand squeezes Eryk’s for an extra second, hoping to alert him to the looming danger without being too obvious.
The idiot takes it as some kind of flirtatious gesture and kisses the top of my knuckles.
“Don’t think this was our last dance of the evening. I’ll be back for you,” he promises, and my heart jumps to my throat at the thought that I may not make it through the next song.
“Hello, little snake. Thank you for the pleasure of your company this evening,” the man says without even looking at me. “I trust your shoes are holding up well?”
I study him carefully, noting the way his eyes flit back and forth over my head. He’s scanning the room, watching something, but I can’t discern what.
It gives me a moment to inspect his features a bit closer. His dark brown hair sitting mussed on his head, his perfectly pointy fae ears, the stubble of his clean-lined facial hair, and the scar running through the right side of his lip all do something to me. Not to mention the sheer size of him.
The fae holding me in his arms is a weapon.
If there’s any chance of getting out of this situation alive, I’ll have to do something I hate. Play dumb.
I force myself to curtsy. “Yes, thank you.”
We begin our dance in tense silence; eyes locked only on each other.
A nagging thought creeps into my mind. Can anyone see what’s happening here? I don’t dare look away.
Finally, he breaks the quiet, “Relax.”
I give a small smile. “I’m sorry. I’m just not really used to anything like this. I don’t want to look out of place.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” he asks.
I nod slightly, encouraging him to continue, and surprised to find myself so eager to hear what he might say.
“Everyone is worried they look out of place. They’re so worried, in fact, that they aren’t able to notice anything outside of themselves. And if they are noticing you? It’s only because you are so spectacular.”
A blush creeps across my face. I’m not used to such bold honesty. I release a breath, letting the weight of perception melt away, and ease into his hold just a fraction as we continue our dance.
Then he ruins it. “Are you having a good night?”
I would be if I hadn’t accidentally stumbled upon you and your friends. “It’s been nice enough, thank you.”
“Ah, yes. I seem to be having a similar experience.” He spins me, forcing a break in our stare off. “You see, I have this problem.”
Shit.
“Problem?” I ask, swallowing my fear.
“Mmm,” he affirms. “Something I think you can help me with.”
His words catch me off guard, and I tilt one brow at him.
“How so?”
He smiles, it’s sinister and handsome as the depths of every hell.
“My problem is that a friend of mine can’t seem to keep their mouth shut about some … plans I have. And I’m afraid someone may have overheard a recent conversation we were having.”
My mouth goes dry, and I have no idea how to respond.
“I believe you’ll be competing in the tournament?”
I nod.
“Brilliant. It’s noble of you to want to join the guard.
They would be lucky to have you,” he says, surprising me.
In the next breath, he whispers, “But keep in mind that it’s difficult to protect the kingdom from the grave.
Even harder to spill secrets. And those competing in this particular tournament don’t always play by the rules. ”
He looks behind me once more, nodding at the corner of the room, and I allow myself to track his stare.
The larger, tattoo covered male who had been in the alcove behind this asshole, stands in the shadows behind Philippa. He’s concealed enough that I doubt anyone else notices he’s there.
He grins at me when he catches me staring, then drags the knife in his hand in the air across the front of his throat while Phil laughs with her companions, fully unaware of any threat.
Message received.
“Do you see that male standing by the east door?” he asks.
I move to look over my shoulder, but he spins me in time with the other couples on the floor.
“Don’t make yourself so obvious.” He fakes a smile that would, in another world, have me weak in the knees. What a waste of a perfectly good male.
To those around us, it must look as if he’s positively enamored with me.
From our new position on the floor, I glance over his shoulder to find the other male, gangly and red-faced, fidgeting near the doorway.
“I see him,” I clip.
“You could at least pretend to be having a nice time,” he responds, and I give him a saccharine smile.
His eyes flash. “Much better,” he praises, and I try to pretend it doesn’t affect me. “That man is the cause of our little … dilemma. It wouldn’t be such a great loss if something were to occur during the tournament.”
“You’re saying … You want me to … ”
“Think of it as one less rebel to contend with.” His tone is nonchalant, as if he’s not asking me to commit a murder.
“I’m a healer!” It comes out louder than I had intended, and a few of the other couples on the dance floor nearby turn to look our way.
Before I can apologize to them for the distraction, the hand on my waist pulls me in closer, too close. I can’t think.
I search his eyes, attempting to discern whether he’s serious or simply testing me. He gives me nothing.
“I can guarantee not a soul will bat an eye at one more death in the name of your precious queen.” His nose scrunches in disgust at the last words.
The song ends, and he leads me to the edge of the dance floor, rolling a lock of my hair between his thumb and fingers when we stop. “Do we have a deal?”
Kill a rebel. Save Phillipa. Protect the queen.
Steeling my spine, I simply say, “Accidents happen all the time.”
The surprise on his face is well worth it. “So we understand each other?”
“Of course.” I swallow and blink up at the stranger.
He leans in close, his lips dangerously nearing the shell of my ear. “I’m counting on you, Arina.”
I do my best to numb the shiver that him speaking my name sends down my spine.
When he pulls away, he bends into a deep bow, never taking those golden eyes from mine.
“I look forward to seeing how this plays out. I hope your fighting skills are more impressive than your dancing.”
I clench my jaw so tight, I’m surprised the bones don’t crack.