Chapter Twenty-Seven – Mira #2
Conall spat on the ground. ‘The Temple would not assist us, nor would we welcome their assistance. Dealing with fellow shifters is our responsibility.’ There were murmurs of agreement from the other councillors.
Conscious of the stares of the shifters and my nearby warriors, I retook my seat and accepted a round native fruit from Cassius. Succulent sweetness flooded into my mouth as I bit into it, buying myself time to think. Following Sionnach’s lead, I washed it down with a slug from the waterskin.
‘I respect your wishes,’ I said, choosing my words carefully.
‘But if you’re willing to give me your blessing as clan leader, I can help you stand against all your enemies – not just the shifters and the Temple, but also Roran.
If he wins this war, he will massacre your people, burn down your homes, and he won’t stop until the Wilds are nothing but ash. ’
‘I’m afraid you’re misinformed.’ The firelight deepened Sionnach’s brown hair to a reddish shade as she leant forward. ‘It isn’t our blessing that you need, Kasmira. It’s the Sorceress’s.’
‘That’s impossible.’ My voice came out sounding flat. ‘She’s been missing for centuries.’
‘Missing,’ Sionnach agreed, ‘but not dead. I can guide you through a ritual that will allow you to commune with her spirit, if she deems you worthy.’ Her fingers gripped the medallion around her neck as she said, ‘It is dangerous, however. Many of V?lund’s predecessors died during the attempt.
You must decide if becoming clan leader is worth risking your life. ’
I didn’t hesitate. ‘It is.’ I had come here knowing that death was a possibility, and I had made my peace with it.
‘In that case, I will leave you to enjoy the celebrations. Tomorrow I will begin making preparations.’ With a parting nod for me and the other council members, Sionnach took Conall’s hand and rose.
As if it was a signal, shifters peeled away from the blazing central fires.
Somewhere, the deep sound of drums reverberated through my bones, and the shifters began to dance with abandon, led by Sionnach.
A group of women threw their heads back and twirled, raising their hands to the sky with wild ecstasy.
It was only as men joined the fray that I understood this was more than a dance: it was a coupling ritual.
My face flushed as the drumbeats grew faster, more frenzied.
Amidst the circle of dancers, Conall and Sionnach had discarded their clothes.
There was no sign of any children now, and I heard a few sensuous sighs even over the drums. In the distance I saw Jadis and Odessa join the revelry, their hands intertwined.
As the rest of the council dispersed, I became intimately aware of Cassius’s presence – and the considering glances of the shifters around us, men and women both.
‘Come on,’ Cassius said, rising with a faint smile at his admirers. ‘Let’s retire. Unless you’d prefer to join them?’ The taunting edge to his voice stopped me from taking his hand.
‘Maybe I would.’ I cast a glance over the male shifters: all tall, well-built, and clearly interested in me. Judging by the way their attention slid to Cassius, they wouldn’t mind including him as well.
Cassius arched a blond brow at me, as if to say, I’m game if you are . But his smile was filled with knowing amusement.
I took his hand.
As he guided me through the fray, I was reminded of his masquerade ball back at the Ravalian Court.
We had passed half-clothed couples then, and Cassius had steered me past them, keeping his hand possessively on my lower back.
Staking a claim in a way that stopped others from propositioning either of us.
And yet . . .
‘Aren’t you tempted?’ I asked as we climbed the steps cut into the trees, holding onto the vines provided for balance.
Candlelit lamps hung from branches, illuminating our path in a beautiful golden glow.
It was a great sign of respect, I knew, for the council to have offered us two of their treetop dwellings.
‘I cultivated a certain image in the Ravalian Court,’ Cassius said at last. The high wooden platform creaked as I stepped onto it, joining him at the rope railing.
‘It was a way of disguising the true purpose of the wild parties I threw – the influence and political favour they afforded me. Not that I didn’t partake in the entertainments.
’ A smile that was all wicked intent graced his full lips.
‘But after a while, it all became . . . monotonous. Predictable. At least until I met you.’
And there it was: the seductive, carefully planned line I had been waiting for. Because of course Cassius had chosen me over the shifters below. Why wouldn’t he, when I was his ticket to power?
Yet if I allowed him to draw me in again, if he ever believed he truly had me . . .
I knew what would happen then. We would make another bargain, and more people would die. And one day, when I was no longer useful, I would die too. Because that was how Ravalian politics worked.
And Cassius was an expert at Ravalian politics.
‘Always so distrustful,’ Cassius murmured. Even the moon must have fallen for his charms, because somehow the silvery light softened the sharp angles of his face. ‘For what it’s worth, I regret the way I used you back in Ravalia. But making you my fiancée wasn’t just about power.’
I hated how much his words affected me, how much I wanted to believe them. To believe in him .
Down below, the blazing fires and cavorting figures drew my attention. There was something so refreshing about Kalurians. Their honesty, their fierceness and honour. Their lack of pretence.
‘I see it now,’ Cassius said, and I realised he was studying them too. ‘Why you want to protect these people. Their way of life.’
I glanced up at him. ‘That’s not what I expected you to say.’
He arched an eyebrow at me. ‘What would you have expected?’
‘That you would look at them and see a weapon.’
Cassius was silent for a long time. A crisp breeze raced through the treetops, making the lamps swing in a way that sometimes bathed his features in golden light and other times in shadow. ‘I’m not my family, Mira.’
I said nothing after that, and neither did he.
When I finally left for my tree house, I did so without a word.
Accepting there was an attraction between us – that was one thing.
But it was altogether different to consider that we might share something deeper.
That he might actually be good for me – and me for him.
Even the thought felt like something out of an ill-fated fairy tale.
But later that night, when I was shivering alone beneath a pile of furs, I felt the warmth of Cassius’s body settle next to mine. And though I knew I should push him away, I didn’t move an inch.
Slowly, almost tentatively, Cassius’s hands made lazy circles across my back. A gentle, almost hypnotic touch–
That sent me off into a deep sleep.