She hated when people, especially men, spoke to her like a petulant child. She’d been reduced to number two the moment he’d been born. Despite all that she did for their kingdom, she was downgraded to a “pretty woman” by most of the men at court. She’d been undervalued by most of their father’s council for the majority of her life, which meant her tolerance for arrogance was below zero.
Daemon watched Xander’s eyes widen, his jaw going slack as blue began seeping into Yvaine’s eyes. “Vaine,” he scolded.
Her hold over Xander’s mind continued as her gaze met Daemon’s, the bright turquoise engulfing the mossy green that matched his own. “I’m not going to hurt him…just get him a little wet.”
A sweet smile graced her mouth, but there was venom behind it. There was a reason few knew of Yvaine’s abilities. A siren’s song could be a tremendous blessing or a curse, and the line between the two was thinner than a strand of hair.
“Yvaine, let him go. He’s trying to help us.”
Still in the trance, Xander stood and took clumsy steps toward the water’s edge.
“He’s got a shitty way of showing it,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Her entire demeanor shifted then. Her breath came in slow, calm pulls as the blue began to retreat from her eyes, luring the unsuspecting prince back to where he’d been before fading away into their usual green.
“What the hell was that?” Xander asked, shaking his head before pressing his fingers into his temples.
“Must have gotten overheated,” Yvaine supplied dryly, then gestured toward the half-completed rune. “You going to finish that?”
By the time they made it back to the castle, the sun was painting the sky in vibrant oranges and pinks as it slowly sank into the horizon.
Xander excused himself as soon as they’d crossed the bridge, claiming a lack of appetite due to a persistent headache. As soon as he was out of earshot, Daemon turned to his sister. “You really did a number on him, Vaine.”
“Weak minds are easier to corrupt, little brother.”
“He’s not weak-minded. He’s worried about his sister and their kingdom. The same as you and me. Give him some grace. He didn’t have to come here.”
Yvaine sighed, then closed her eyes as a sweet hum rang out through the marble of the castle. Echoing down the halls and through the chambers.
“What are you doing?” Daemon whispered next to her ear, his eyes on a constant swivel to make sure that no one was around them. A siren’s song was only meant to be heard by those who were targeted, and the fact thathecould hear it had his magic coiling beneath the surface.
“Fixing it,” she stated matter-of-factly. Her song faded out, the usual sounds of the castle returning to fill the space once more. “There. Prince Xander should be fine in a moment or two.”
Daemon blew out an exasperated breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do me a favor? Until I’m positive there are no spies in our court, keep the magic to a minimum?Please? The last thing we need is you-know-who finding out what you are capable of.”
The fire burned in the depths of Yvaine’s eyes—whether from anger or the need for retribution, he wasn’t sure—but as she opened her mouth to respond, Sariah rounded the corner.
“Daemon! You’re back!” Her arms wound around his neck in a quick embrace before she pulled away, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait,whyare you back? I thought you were goingto Ly—” Yvaine elbowed Sariah in the ribs. “Ow!What the hell, Yvaine!?”
“The walls have ears, Ri,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
A disbelieving chuckle slipped past Daemon’s lips before he released the hold on his shadows and whisked them into his suite. The last thing he needed was for his council to catch wind of his whereabouts before he was ready for them to. He needed things in place. Needed to see how deeply his court was entangled with the Court of Garnet before he could begin to unravel the foothold Davina had established. He needed to weed out the vermin that undoubtedly sat at his father’s table. And if Davina had established a stronghold in his court, it was going to take more time than he had to demolish it.
“Exactly how many people know where I went?” he seethed, storming across the room to the bar cart. As he poured amber liquid into a glass, he heard someone fall onto one of the leather couches, followed by an exhausted-sounding sigh.
“Mother told me, and I told Ri. No one else knows. Even Father thinks you were on Lunaria, doing your princely duties with the Priestesses.”
Daemon downed the contents of his glass, then poured another before turning to face the women sprawled across his sitting area. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as the nose on my face, little brother.”
Exhaustion was a heavy blanket as the peachy light of early morning filtered into his room.It’s too fucking early, he thought, groaning as he grabbed the pillow next to him. The soft scent of lavender saturated his senses as he used it to block out the offending light. Inhaling deeply, he let the familiarityand calm accompanying the scent wash over him. He was just about to drift back to sleep when a startling realization had him shooting up in bed, his eyes scouring the room for the source and coming up empty. Resolved to the fact that his sleep-idle mind was playing tricks on him, Daemon fell back against the pillows, his nose buried into the one that smelled ofher.
Even through the sleep-induced fog of his mind, it didn’t make sense. There was no reason for his pillow to smell like Auraelia. She hadn’t been there in months, and even when she had, they’d spent their time in her chambers.
Pulling his face from the silk, Daemon sat up once more and took a more critical look around his room. Everything was in its place—including the curtains that he’d evidently forgotten to draw the night before—and there was no sign of anything that would lead him to believe she was there. And though—logically—that made sense, there was still a pang of hurt in his heart, of longing to be back where she was.
Daemon scrubbed a hand down his face before running his fingers through his hair, deciding to get up for the day instead of stealing a few more hours of sleep. As he moved the sheets aside, a flash of cream and emerald green entered his peripheral before falling to the floor on the opposite side. A singular chuckle escaped, and he shook his head.Of course.
Stretching across the bed, Daemon reached down to scoop up the parchment, his thumb skimming the new signet that had been pressed into the wax, subsequently knocking a few of the lavender buds to the floor.
