Aya had never found consolation in death.
But now…now there was no peace to be found in the thought of her gods at all.
15
“She’s late,” Liam drawled from his place by the door. Will could hear the impatience thick in the Persi’s voice, could see it reflected in the pointed look he gave to the clock on the mantle of the faux fireplace.
As if Will needed the reminder. As if he hadn’t counted every damn second they sat in this godsforsaken place,waiting.
It stretched his skin tight, anxiety choking his breath as if he’d been subjected to his own favored form of sensation mimicking.
Waiting gave his mind too much time to conjure every horrible thing that could be happening to Aya as he stood still, every wretched suffering he could not prevent from happening to her because he wasstuck waiting.
He loathed it.
Even still, he forced his body to remain relaxed against the chaise as he followed Liam’s gaze to the clock.
“Charles said she liked to make him wait,” he remarked, his voice betraying none of the razor-sharp impatience unfurling in his gut.
“How long until we assume he went to the guards?” Aidon asked. He’d finally caved and positioned himself onthe end of the bed, ignoring Liam’s pointed smirk when he did so.
Better for them if Dauphine did mistake him for a courtesan, truly.
Will opened his mouth to respond, but Liam held up a hand, his eyes narrowing as he pressed an ear against the wall.
Someone was coming.
Will shifted, planting his feet firmly on the floor. There was a long moment of silence before the handle jiggled and the door flew open with such gusto, it nearly collided against Liam.
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” a sultry voice crooned.
Dauphine Adair sauntered into the room, green eyes bright and eager, red hair wild with curls, every bit the hurricane Will remembered. She’d chosen an understated look today—brown leather britches paired with a tan vest that fastened at her sternum, showing off the swell of her breasts and the taut, tanned skin of her stomach—but the hoops of gold in her ears spoke to her wealth.
Her eyes fell to Aidon first, flaring with surprise. It was enough of a distraction that she didn’t register the way the door clicked shut behind her. Instead, her lips twitched into an interested smirk before her gaze swept the room and landed on Will.
Dauphine froze.
She whirled back to the door, but Will was on his feet in the next instant, his knife flinging across the room and slamming into the crack between the door and its frame with unerring precision.
“Stay awhile, Dauphine,” he requested.
She stilled, one hand still outstretched toward the handle. Slowly, she lowered her arm, her shoulders shaking as she began to laugh.
“Gods above,” the mercenary chuckled as she turned backto him. “I always did like you, Enforcer.” She cut a glance to Liam, who stood with his feet braced, one hand on the pommel of his sword, as if just waiting to drive it into her heart.
“Liam,” she greeted with a saccharine smile.
“Dauphine.” Her name sounded like a curse falling from his lips.
“Still bitter about the Squal, I see.”
She stepped away from the door, her steps measured and sure as she sauntered into the center of the room. “Well this is certainly a surprise.” Her gaze dragged down Will pointedly. “Tell me, do I finally get the pleasure of the Dark Prince of Dunmeaden in my bed?”
Will didn’t deign to encourage her. Not that it mattered. Because in the next breath, Dauphine was pivoting to where Aidon still sat, his brow furrowed as he assessed her.
“I can’t say the Enforcer holds my interest, butyou…” she took a pointed step toward Aidon. “You could convince me.” The king remained unmoved, even as Dauphine cocked her head and said, “Care to introduce yourself, handsome?”
“I prefer a bit of mystery,” Aidon answered lightly, his arms bracing across his chest as he met the mercenary’s stare.
