She stares across the table at him, her brows pulling together as she tries to find the right words to say. The man has very obviously never fought in a war. In fact, if I were to guess, he's never been anywhere near a battlefront.
I'd know that years ago, when Suram was overturning their monarchy, that there was quite a bit of civil unrest. Their public was furious, and all realm-wide trade negotiations came to a halt. Most of the remaining monarchs were all terrified that their citizens would do the same.
Save for my father, who didn't seem to care because our kingdom's people had already tried a coup and failed.
Suram's monarch, however, King Ramis lost his fight, and Consul General Emir took over their rule and the people. Ramis and his family disappeared after that — history lesson aside, looking at Devlen, he couldn't have been any older than I was when that happened. Those riots and fights may have occurred around him, but he certainly wasn't participating in them.
Zoning back into the present from my peripheral vision, I see Eveera rise from her seat. She makes her way around the table, passing stiffly by me, and stops in front of the men.
"IfI need a liaison, you two will be the first to know. But for now, go home."
Disappointment flicks through his ice blue eyes, and Caz rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How will we know? If you need us?"
"I'll find you." He dips his head at her and whispers his goodbyes, following the guards she instructs to lead them back to the portal.
Eveera gives Felix a long look, and he speeds after them, pulling the doors closed behind him.
With just the two of us remaining, I let out a breath.Finally, just the two of us.I watch her from behind, her shoulders slumping forward. She scratches absentmindedly at the rune our wrists share, the skin there raw and red. My mouth turns down, and I step quietly behind her, putting her back flush against my chest.
I reach my hand around her frame and cover the top of hers, stopping the habit before she cuts any deeper into the skin. "Eveera."
Her breath hitches at the sound of my voice, and the call of her name breaks whatever trance she's slipped into. She twists around sharply, the tendrils ripping out of her. The corporeal magic wraps tightly around my wrists and throat, backing me against the stone wall.
I smirk down at her as she leans into her magic, eyes flickering between gold and black. "Well, at least you're looking at me this time."
Eveera
I hate howgladhe looks at my pinning him up against the wall.
Despite the fact that he's aware these restraints could become blades the minute I will them to be. I could turn him into nothing more than pulp, and he's thrilled. I can sense a bead of fear coursing through him, but fuck, I swear the intention behind that is the fear that I'll let go of him — not that I'll end his life.
And right now, I most certainly could.
When I finally came to after Marjorie freed me of the bloody mage shackles, I could feel the strong sense that something wasoffinside my court.
Then I found out I had been married off. I thought the feeling would wear off after that news was discovered, sure that that was the “wrong” I’d felt. But it didn't. Thankfully, my staff is nosey,and not a single person around here can keep their damn mouth shut. Thus leading me to the dungeons and toher.
Pruella — bloody fucking heir to the Hadar throne, and she’d been underneath my feet fordays.
In the dim glow of moonlight, I could barely make out her thin frame. She sat curled up in a ball, her body pressed tightly against the damp stone with her long red hair stuck to her sickly pale skin, whether from sweat or whatever is leaking in her cell, I didn’t know.
I'd loosed one curious tendril out to slink along her floor and cup underneath her chin. The princess tried to jerk against the feather-light touch, but she was unsuccessful against my Wield, and I forced her chin to look my direction.
"Well… aren't you certainly unexpected, hmm?" I asked, a grin curling up my face as she gazed at me with her hollow eyes. She'd shuddered against my touch, the scent of her fear overwhelmingly… delicious.
But when I stand here holding Rorin in a significantly more dangerous position, I don't get fear… I getthrillorexcitement.And dammit, but whenheshudders, it is painfully obvious that it has nothing to do with being unnerved and all to do with…
"You're a bastard, you know that?" I snap, my teeth clacking together.
He shrugs as best he can underneath my Wield before saying, "what did I do this time?"
Everything, I want to bark at him, but I knew if I did, we'd be standing here five minutes longer than I wanted to. "Give me one good reason not to slit your throat and your wrists here."
"You'll miss me too much." He grinds out, my tendrils tightening again, like a serpent coiling around its prey.
"Mm, trying again,princeling. My patience is waning at a rapid pace."
He snorts out a laugh through his nose, "I give up." He admits, tone casual.
