His hands cage me against the wall as his lecherous stare rakes over my body.
Well, if I was waiting for a sign to end this conversation, that was it. I don’t break his stare as I slowly start to reach for my knife.
Briefly, I wonder how long it will take for an immortal to heal from a decapitated head. Hopefully, it will be long enough to knock him out for a couple of days.
A girl can dream.
“Ah, Vivian, I’m sorry I’m late,” a familiar, lyrical voice purrs.
Rydon and I freeze, both of us shocked to find Ragna standing only a few paces away. It takes only a second for Rydon’s surprise to wear off, and he takes a step back.
Still, I don’t lower my guard. I’m itching to take his head, and I have no idea if Ragna is going to be an even bigger problem. She’s a realm leader, and she’s on the Council. Neither of those things particularly screams ‘trustworthy.’
“I wasn’t aware Vivian had any private Council meetings,” Rydon notes, crossing his arms and openly suspicious.
“And I wasn’t aware you were stupid enough to put your hands on a Creator,” Ragna answers, narrowing her eyes at him.
He immediately looks away. “I didn’t put my–”
“I cansmellyou on her, and do not think others of my kind won’t do so as well,” she hisses, taking a threatening step forward. “How damaging would it be for your reputation if that information were to get out? Of course, you could leave now, and I could order my people’s silence.”
She gives a slight incline of her head, as if silently daring him to argue any further.
“Fine,” he spits, and tension rolls through him. He throws me a final dark look before muttering, “Until next time, little bird,” and then slinks away.
I turn back to Ragna and give her a small, respectful nod. “Thank you.”
My hand doesn’t move from the hilt of my knife.While I’d love to hope that she helped me out of thekindness of her heart, I’m quickly realizing nothing in this realm comes for free.
She tilts her head, and her intimidating gaze flickers to my hidden knife. Lifting an unimpressed brow, her tone flattens. “You know, in places like this, allies are essential to survival.”
Shifting my weight back and very much keeping my knife, I throw her what I hope is a challenging stare. Just like last time, my body revolts. Pressure exerts at the base of my neck, as if some outside force is trying to force me into lowering myself to the ground.
I don’t look away. This isn’t even close to the level of discomfort I felt when fighting the Keeper bond.
“And are you my ally?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Ragna purses her lips. “That’s yet to be determined.”
She breaks our stare and looks down the hall. The sound of bubbling from the potion room is still gone, so I assume whatever magical sound barrier Rydon made is still up. I resist the urge to nervously tap my fingers against my dress, as I brainstorm how to politely excuse myself from the leader of an entire realm.
I’m running out of time. I’ve been gone too long.
Ragna saves me from the social awkwardness when she looks back at me. “You’re free to take whatever it is you’d like from the potion room, so long as you truthfully answer one question for me.”
My throat tightens, but I nod anyway.
“Are souls in the Mortal Realm going missing as well?” She asks the question so quietly, I barely hear her.
I open my mouth to tell her I was gone before the disappearances, only to realize the implications of answering her question. Honesty will give away that I can see spirits – something no one should be able to do in the Mortal Realm.
It’s a trick question.
Ragna is onto me.
Panic claws me, and I force out a small, scratchy laugh. “I have no idea. Spirits in my home realm are invisible. No one can see them.”
I’d like to think I’m convincing. Besides, Ragna is royalty; she probably expects people to be nervous around her.
