“I have been straightforward with you from the very—what the bloody fuck?” he snarls when he takes a step closer and the butterflies immediately respond.
One dives through the air and uses its wings to slash the back of his hand, and he snatches another out of the air when it aims for his face.
Shit!
I quickly back up so the winged deterrents disengage. I wince as another butterfly gets in one final shot to Aeson’s ear before calmly fluttering my way.
Correction, Nixy programmed the dress not to attack the king, but it looks like the scions are fair game.
I might feel bad if Aeson wasn’t being a dick right now.
“What is this?” he demands, holding up the jeweled assailant.
“It’s a security precaution I asked for. As long as you stay two feet away from me, you won’t activate it,” I explain while he inspects the cut on his hand and then studies the crystalline insect struggling to escape his iron grasp. “Beats lasers if you ask me.”
“Lasers?” he asks, confused, but then his features turn thoughtful. He’s probably thinking about the conversation he had with his brother last night. Lorn was reading through the transcript of my call with Nixy while they waited for their father in his office.
Aeson’s eyes meet mine, and the fiery fury that was just there calms to a simmering vexation. “You went behind my back and made a deal with my father. I want to know what it was and how you did it.”
I study the sharp curve of his jaw, the angry line of his lips, the blazing demand in his gaze. This is not a male that people refuse, and yet I have no hesitation. I just wish I could get a read on whether it’s the deal part that’s pissing him off or if he’s mad because it happened right under his nose and he wasn’t the one to broker the terms.
“You should ask your father these questions,” I evade.
“I’m askingyou,” Aeson growls. “My…mate.”
There’s no caustic bite to the way he says it this time. Instead, he’s laced the title with a lethal combination of desire and promise. He savors the phrase, plays with it on his tongue like he can’t get enough of the flavor. It’s both a taunt and an invitation, one I’d suddenly like to RSVP to.
My eyes drop to his mouth, and I can feel the ghost of it across my shoulder. The flames of his dragon mark dance as he swallows, making his Adam’s apple dip and then rise. His nostrils flare like he’s searching for my scent, and when I lift my eyes to his, longing burns in both of our gazes.
Tension crackles and frustration crawls over his face. “I—”
A door on the far end of the room suddenly opens, and Ogdan peeks his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Commander, but Count Marteen and Lord Piers are leaving. If we want to get tails on them before they clear the gate, we need to move now.”
Aeson’s eyes never leave mine. The longing between us builds into an insatiable ache, and my feet carry me forward, responding to the undeniable need to be closer. But he takes a step back. He blinks and douses the pyre in his eyes, leaving me to burn alone.
“Coming,” Aeson tells him, already turning and walking toward the door.
I watch him as he goes, wondering if this is the only future we’ll ever have, one of us tentatively reaching while the other is perpetually walking away.
My eyes stray to Ogdan, and I replay what he said when he interrupted us. Tails? They’re tracking members of The Horde? All at once, puzzle pieces fit into place, and I realize this is why Aeson’s Wing couldn’t guard me tonight. This is why the king gathered The Horde to announce who I am. The Noctises wanted as many drakes here as they could get so they could monitor their reactions.
They set up a sting.
Quickly, I try to fit faces to the names Marteen and Piers, but I don’t remember either of those in any of the files the Syphons managed to access and go through.
“You’re looking for the traitors, aren’t you?” I ask, because what else could it be? I already know from the conversation I spied on that I’m bait tonight. I doubt there would be anything more pressing to the Noctises right now than finding out which dragons were involved in the rebellion sixty-two years ago.
“We’re looking for a lot of things,” Aeson answers cryptically as he continues to walk away.
That’s not a no.
I move to follow, determined not to be left behind when it comes to this. If anyone has earned the right to help bring down the bastards that betrayed the Syphons, it’s me. I’m halfway to the door when Aeson realizes I’m shadowing him, and he rounds on me.
“Not a chance, Claws. You’re staying right here,” he orders, like he has any right.
“You can eat my ass with that bossy bullshit, Commander,” I snap. “I can help.”
Aeson narrows his gaze at me, but he looks thoughtful for a beat. “You’re right, you can help,” he agrees, and relief pools in my stomach at the recognition. “Answers, Claws. That’s what you can help me with, and you better have them ready when I walk back through this door. I’m done playing around.”
