“What?” I shot at him. “Don’t glare at me, man whore. I said what I said.”
Despite his claims of wanting a nickname, when I gave him one, hurt flashed across his face.
My eyes narrowed on the fickle bastard.
Whatever emotion I’d drawn out of him vanished quickly. But before I could question it further, a loud clap drew everyone’s attention to the parlor doors.
“Ah, sothismust be the infamousQuinn EverlyI’ve heard so much about!”
Landon’s posture went rigid beside me.
Max immediately stopped staring.
I girded my loins to face the last person I wanted to meet.
Too worked up to feel the appropriate amount of fear, a spike of dread still pierced through me before I forced it away.
Deflection Mode: Full Steam Ahead.
Just a typical day at Camelot Court, meeting a lying, no-good villain who wanted to get rid of me. Just another asshole. Just another bad guy.
That reverberated in my head, like an inappropriate pop soundtrack playing at a funeral, seconds before I had the great displeasure of meetingthe infamousDrake D’Arthur.
But as he drew closer, Landon tensed, bracing as if he wanted to throw me behind him. Something about that reflexive reaction to Drake’s presence forced me to face reality.
A chill raced down my spine at the sudden shift in the whole room. Fear ran palpably through everyone and down my Knight’s arm beside me. With a gulp, I straightened my spine and forced myself to lift my gaze.
Then, I laid eyes on Drake D’Arthur for the first time.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
Where Kingston’s lean, muscular physique still commanded attention, Drake D’Arthur’s massive build and wide frame made it impossible to overlook him. As soon as he’d entered the room, the air thinned.
Each step he took sucked more out of it.
He was nothing like his son.
While they shared the same posture, poise, and charisma, Drake D’Arthur’s slicked-back dark hair and his cruel, soulless eyes were nothing like Kingston’s. If they matched his blue-gray hue, the elder’s had dulled where his son’s sparkled.
Seeing him so close to Kingston after everything I’d learned, my mind fought to shield itself from panic. Panic that might lead to rash actions, so I had to look away again.
I’d promised Kingston I wouldn’t do anything to make things harder for him once his father arrived at Pendragon, and I wanted to keep that promise.
Ineededto keep it.
So, as the risk of launching myself at Camelot Court’s leader and tearing his eyes out grew even greater, I kept my feet firmly planted on the ground and my head down.
I didn’t want Kingston or Landon jumping in to stop me if I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t risk messing everything up, as soon as he got too close.
Unfortunately, fate had to stir things up and test my limits.
Because after a few quiet words to his son, Drake D’Arthur stalked straight over to me.
Roughly the same height as Kingston and Max, he towered over me, and with Max, I’d wanted to climb his hulking, looming presence like a tree. Drake D’Arthur made me want to grab an axe, swing for the ankles, and shoutTimber!as he came crashing down.
He sneered down his nose at me, his lips curling into a derisive smile as he assessed me. “So, it seemsGuineverereturns to Camelot Court.”
I gritted my teeth as he echoed Morty’s comparison. But my thoughts from that night on the lawn echoed in my head. I didn’t hate the comparison—I relished it.
