Blaze neared her, and something primal took over Augustus. He cut into Blaze’s path and shot a look that was the Ranger’s only warning. No one—not even Blaze—was going near Selene until she was safely out of this fucking country.
A dash of light left Blaze’s eyes. “I only meant to share the gossip with our girl.”
Pain lanced through his jaw. “Selene isn’touranything.”
“You’re right,” Selene shot from his back. “Not yours either, if you keep this up.” She pushed Augustus aside, her eyes aflame. “You were saying, Blaze?”
“Only that the entire city is talking about it. I’ve never seen so much excitement over five dead men.”
“Don’t you mean six?” Selene asked.
Five councilmen and one inquisitor—six. At least, that’s what they’d heard.
Selene and Blaze started for Dimitrios’s chambers together, the ranger saying, “The councilmen are dead. They didn’t stand a chance.”
Augustus managed to stay a step behind. Less. He hoped Blaze felt that breath down his neck. “What about the inquisitor?”
“The old man lived,” Blaze said, sparing a quick glance. “However, that miracle will likely be short-lived. No one thought he’d last the night.”
“Why?” Selene asked.
“He was stabbed and dropped over a railing. He’s been unconscious ever since.”
Selene rocked to a stop and grabbed Blaze’s arm. “But, he’s alive?”
Augustus hated to hear the hope in her voice. If the inquisitor lived, Dimitrios would still have a chance to get his crown the right way. But the injuries sounded fatal.
Blaze was confirming the situation, when the new Head of House climbed out of the nearby staircase, and brought their entire conversation to a screeching halt.
Milonia Dardana wasstunning. Augustus wouldn’t dare stray, but a man would have to be blind not to notice. Even Blaze, who had no interest whatsoever in women, stumbled in her presence.
Milonia greeted Selene with a wide smile, and the two of them strolled ahead, arms linked, heads bent together. He couldn’t make out much, but knew Selene was plotting the same nonsense as before and enlisting Milonia’s help.
Augustus stopped caring as soon as he entered Dimitrios’s chambers. He wasn’t completely surprised to find Oskar and two other Blades standing in attendance. Nor was he shocked at Dimitrios’s dark circles and unshaven face. Members of the Perean Guard were a no-brainer—the heir to the throne was nearly killed.
Then there was Nikolas Contas, commander and close friend of Dimitrios. Right there on the terrace with a fucking dead man.
Months—months—Augustus had put his total trust into that man, only to find out he’d been murdering members of his crew, their friends, on Orestis Vidalatos’s orders. He got as far as to lock Augustus and Selene up in a room, while he prepared to ship them off to their death.
Augustus stormed toward the terrace. Distantly, as if beyond severalplates of glass, Selene shouted something completely unintelligible. Oskar, too, spoke words with no meaning.
Lazaros’s eyes widened, and his hands were barely raised in defense before Augustus’s fist landed with acrack.
Dimitrios had felt several steps behind everything today, but when Milonia entered the room with the others, it was as if a hand reached into his body and yanked his soul into place. Back into the rooms that once belonged to the crown prince, Angelos. A spacious room with tall, fluted columns lining the walls, large pots lush with fragrant flowers, and reclining couches with plush cushions under all the bay-facing windows.
Milonia wore a chiton in jewel-toned blue, which brought out her skin’s rich honey tan. The khol lining her almond-shaped eyes enhanced their dark golden color. She paused in the open doorway and gave him a respectful nod, her gentle smile a lure that put an extra beat in his heart.
Shehadto stop looking at him like that. Otherwise, he’d start asking questions. Like, who was she? What did she do in her free time? Where could he find her if— No. Avoid her. Avoid her at all costs.
Thankfully, Augustus swept by like a furious wind, breaking his spell. The blasted pirate stormed the balcony and had Lazaros bent over the marble balustrade, pummeling him.
Nikolas was the only one who had the wherewithal to intervene. The commander hauled Augustus back by the shoulder and stepped between the two men with hands raised. “Back off, Triarius. Now.”
Lazaros spat blood from his mouth and rubbed his bruised jaw. “It’s all right. It was well deserved.”
Augustus rushed up against the wall of Nikolas’s body, pulling free the dagger at his side. “Slitting your throat would be well deserved, you fucking bastard. A punch was only to delay your death long enough to let you look into my eyes before Idon drags your bloody carcass across the blazing stones of Hadate.”
Oskar stepped in behind Augustus with his two acolytes close behind. “If anyone’s taking his life, it’ll be me. It was my man he murdered, my gut that took his knife, and I’m not quite done hearing what he has to say.”
