I glowered at him, but he sat down himself, obviously certain I’d take the seat beside him. I glanced around at the exuberant chaos of the room and realized every clan had their own area; I couldn’t exactly bumble around trying to find a place to sit.
“Unclaimed recruits sit over there,” someone said near me.
I twisted to see who was speaking and realized they weren’t talking to me. They were speaking to someone else as they pointed toward a series of tables at the other end of the room, furthest from the food.
I took my plate and headed toward those tables.
I wasn’t part of Fieran’s clan, after all.
“Mortal, here you go.” Someone set their plate on top of mine. I stared up at them in shock as their plate tilted toward mine, spilling sauce down my front. Bits of chicken leg and half-eaten, buttered bread landed on my once-clean tunic. Their napkin slid off the plate and landed on my shoes.
My dinner wasruined.
Fuck this. I was going back to my room. Even though the room smelled like roasting meat, fresh bread, and caramelizing sugar, I headed toward the doors. They felt distant when there were shifters brushing all around me, barely registering my presence. I was so much shorter, it felt as if someone was always about to trip over me.
Someone’s elbow slammed into my arm. A jolt of pain shot up to my shoulder, and the stack of plates wobbled precariously in my hands. The offender didn’t even glance back.
The shifters around me felt like a blur. My palms were slick like I might drop the damned dishes.
I just needed to find somewhere—anywhere—to ditch the plates. Maybe then I could abandon my humiliation along with them. The doors to the corridor gleamed ahead like a promise of escape.
Someone else thrust their plate toward me, trying to dump it onto my stack. “Here you go,” they said magnanimously.
“I’m not a servant,” I told them, dodging it.
“Then what are you doing here?” The silver-haired shifter seemed to actuallyseeme for the first time; he gave me a look as if I were stupid as he thrust the plate at me again. “It’s your job to serve in any way we see fit.”
I reached for it just to get them to leave me alone.
“Don’t you dare.” Fieran’s voice was low and dangerous, right beside my ear. I jumped, my heart slamming against my ribs. His all-consuming presence rolled over me like a gathering storm.
His gaze was intent and angry on the man across from me, who jolted as if he felt the storm too. He dropped the plate. It didn’t shatter, but clattered noisily between us. Conversation in the room seemed to pause curiously.
The silver-haired shifter gave Fieran a wide-eyed, terrified look.
That immediate fear and awe didn’t seem to fit with the Fieran I knew from the village, who had been playful and charming. This version of Fieran was cold and commanding and projected an air of just-barely-restrained-violence. Anayla’s words about his many masks returned to me, along with an unsettling prickling along my spine.
Fieran glanced down at the scattered food at our feet. “Fix that.”
I hesitated, but the shifter didn’t. He dropped to his knees andfrantically swept up the bits of food. His head bobbed in front of us as if he were bowing over and over, and embarrassment on his behalf swept over me. I needed to get out of here.
Fieran reached for me, but stopped himself short of putting his hand on my back, as if he remembered he wasn’t allowed to touch me. My cheeks felt hot; everyone in this room was watching us now.
The shifter on his knees scrambled up, holding his plate, and gave Fieran a wild-eyed look.
“You may go,” Fieran growled. He took the other plates out of my hand and handed them to the shifter before he left. “Try again. Be useful for once, Henkel.”
The shifter’s eyes widened with horror at Fieran using his name. He must be from another clan, because he seemed surprised and dismayed. “Thank you,” he blurted out, clutching the plates to his chest like a prize, and then turned and fled into the crowd.
Fieran gestured for me to walk with him. I scoffed but followed, perhaps out of a sense of morbid curiosity. Unfortunately, I was tied to him, and the sooner I understood him, the sooner I could untie myself—and Tay.
“You got lost on your way to our table,” he said softly, as conversation picked up around us again.
“I’m an unclaimed recruit,” I reminded him. Now no one bumped into me; the shifters gave us a wide berth so that Fieran and I walked side-by-side easily despite the crowd.
He gave me a long look. “Who looks like a mortal.”
“Yes. Because I am.”
