His earnest devotion is like someone opening up your chest and sinking their claws into your heart.
He has hardly stopped excitedly talking about taking us on his arm to the Night of the Shades.
No one has wanted me to attend a ball with them before.
I’ve cleaned the floors ready for parties in the Great Hall for Bard and his friends. I’ve sneaked looks from the end of the corridor, as the elite Omegas and their Alphas swept in to dance and feast, before being caught and having my ass kicked.
Me?
On the arm of the King?
As his soon-to-be Queen?
It doesn’t suck.
The Blue Lotus Palace has been in upheaval with servants and nobles alike transforming the place with decorations, lights, as well as food and wines being brought in by local Shadow Humans for the feasts.
It truly is the biggest night of the year.
Yet most of the time, I have been in panic mode, trying to work out the impossible puzzle of how to save all three of my Alphas.
How do I get out of this without one of my Alphas ending up a prisoner or dead?
I slink down the labyrinthine, cool corridors, which I have become familiar with over the days that I have explored them with Daire.
This time, however, I shook my head at Shadow and Devil, when they stood to follow me. To my surprise, they obeyed me, settling back into their bed.
I know that Lanlin can communicate with them.
What’s the bet that they spy for him?
I pause in front of a low door, resting my hand on it.
I’m a thief.
I can use my skills in the one place that I know holds the magical artifacts that could free Daire from the iron, which I am sure is wracking him with pain or possibly, from the cursed mask that is meant as a trap for Lanlin.
Heka and the other vampire mages have been ordered to work on both problems. But are they truly concentrating on them?
Are they purposefully dragging their feet on solving them?
My skin tingled in the way it always does when I sense magical talismans and other items that are thief worthy, when I was last in the House of Life.
“Come to wolfie, magical items.” I rub my hands together, before flexing my fingers.
A thrill rushes through me at being able to steal something valuable again. It just isn’t the same being gifted something. You haven’t worked for it.
Well,stolenit. But that’s a thief’s work.
My eyes brighten, as I push through into the sacred archive in The House of Life.
I blink, surprised that the high slits in the thick, limestone walls have been covered with heavy drapes that are blocking the sunlight.
The lamps are still hissing in the niches, and dancing shadows are cast along the rows of wooden shelves, which hold the clay jars of tightly rolled parchment scrolls.
I shiver. Hairs rise on the back of my neck.
I nibble on my lip for a moment, scanning the silent room.
