"You said Boo is out," I shrug. "Had to find another one."
"And comparing me to a delicate littleflowerwas your second choice?" She shakes her head as much as Silas allows her to. "I said no more nicknames."
Silas presses his lips against her hair. "Let us apologize to you the way I know you're craving,sangfluir. You've resisted long enough. Admit that you want this, and stop fighting us.”
His quiet words break her out of this intoxicating moment. She moves away to glare at all three of us since Everett is lingering. If looks could kill, we'd all drop dead at Maven's feet.
“I’ll make this crystal clear. I'm temporarily playing along as your keeper because I have limited options. This is only an act for me, just like it was an act for you four to see who could fuck me the fastest. Consider this an allegiance of convenience because I want nothing to do with any of you. Now leave me alone. There's someone I need to track down."
Our keeper storms away, leaving me reeling and my inner dragon snarling in rebellion at her words. The last thing I wantis for her to track down that fucking incubus and try to join his orgy.
Silas murmurs, "That was a lie. When she said she wanted nothing to do with us, she was lying."
"How do you know?"
He smirks. "Maven has a tell that I just figured out. Come on."
All three of us weave through the mass of dancing, talking legacies as we follow after her. I ignore the stares following us. My entire life, I've been paraded around as the miracle golden child of the last line of dragon shifters, so I’m used to drawing attention.
But my teeth clench when Iker Del Mar suddenly steps in front of me, stopping me from following after Silas.
Damn it. This won't be good.
"I've always wanted to meet Brigid Decimus's youngest son," he rumbles.
I dip my head respectfully, slipping on a charming smile even though I'm well the fuck aware that the Immortal Quintet can't stand my mother. Actually, as revered as my family is for how useful we are at the Divide, we Decimuses get into a shitload of trouble with the Immortal Quintet and Legacy Council all the time. It's because they like to keep such careful control of everything, manipulating the other high-profile legacy families by pulling on their strings, but we dragons are stubborn as hell.
My mom's always said that she'd rather we all be dead than blindly obedient.
All four of my older siblings have warned me that if I ever meet any of the Immortal Quintet, they'll automatically try to establish dominance over me because they love the idea of finally getting a Decimus to roll over and show its belly.
Not fucking happening.
"It's an honor to meet you, sir," I lie. "But if you'll excuse me, I really need to catch up with?—"
"Not so fast," he cautions.
This monster gives me the heebie-jeebies. His pupils are like pinpricks in the pale yellow of his irises, and the horns and scales don't help him look any better. My inner dragon tenses, snarling as the hydra sizes us up.
Even though I'd love to flip him off and race after Maven, I stay polite. "Something I can help with?"
His smile is without warmth, showing off his pointed teeth. "More like somethingIcan help you with. A gracious warning, if you will. Know that any students found stepping out of line will be severely punished. Pedigree and family pride will not excuse them. Dragons are only valuable assets if they can heed direction. Remember that."
Okay then. This fucker just threatened me and insulted my family all at once.
I bare all my teeth with my next smile. "Noted."
Then I turn my back on him and stalk toward the edge of the ballroom, keeping my eye out for Silas or Maven. When I catch a whiff of coppery burnt herbs that is unmistakably Silas and not some other blood fae, I follow his scent out of the Matched Ball completely, into one of the empty grand hallways.
A moment later, I turn into another dim corridor and find Everett standing with his arms folded and a scowl on his face, watching Maven and Silas in the middle of a heated argument. They would be nose to nose if it weren't for the fact that Silas is almost a foot taller than her.
"Thenask," Silas snaps in reply to whatever she said before I walked in. "Fucking ask me if it was all a show, Maven. You know I can't lie."
As I approach, her gaze darts to me, but she shakes her head stubbornly.
"I don't care if it was a lie. This isn't just about the bet. I already told you back in Pennsylvania?—"
"What, that you're trying to protect us?" I growl, recalling her confession about her blood oath and claiming that she was rejecting us to keep us safe. "I wantyou, Maven, not your motherfucking protection. I'm a grown-ass dragon, and I can handle myself. So what if the anti-legacy movement says we shouldn't be together? If that's all you're worried about?—"
