A prickling sensation crawled up my spine, shattering the intimacy of the moment.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes surveyed the room, and his jaw clenched when he locked onto something behind me.
Turning, I followed his gaze and found an unfamiliar man watching me from the dais.
“Who is that?”
Ryker’s arm encircled my waist, pulling me closer. The possessiveness of the gesture did not escape my notice.
“He is an emissary from the Seelie Court. Apparently, the Seelie King and Queen wish to propose a trade agreement.”
My eyes widened in surprise, and I regarded him with renewed scrutiny. His golden hair was slicked back, and his face was all sharp features. I might have thought him handsome if not for the unsettling color of his eyes: pale, milky white, making it impossible to tell where he was looking, though I felt his gaze all the same.
“But you don’t believe that?” My voice was low, as if he could hear me from across the room.
“No, I do not.”
At that moment, the King’s gaze landed on his eldest son, his head tilting in summons.
Ryker signaled to Eamon, telling him without words to return to his post. His friend nodded, heading toward us.
“Forgive me, Temptress, but it appears my presence is required.”
I inclined my head, unable to pull my gaze from the emissary. Even as Ryker approached, the man’s attention never strayedfrom me. Then his lips pulled up in a sinister smirk, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
A chill spread over my body, an instinctive warning that made my stomach roil. Just as I started to look away, a sudden pressure flared in my side, knocking the air from my lungs and shattering my focus in a single, stunned heartbeat.
My body registered it before my mind could. A jolt of heat, then a dizzying rush of numbness. My palm flew to the site, and warm liquid coated my fingers.
I looked down at my hand, and the sight made my head spin as nausea rose in my throat.
Blood.
Chapter Fifty-One
Cadence
The room tilted violently as I dragged in a ragged breath. My knees buckled, and I reached blindly for support, finding only empty air. The floor surged up to meet me, but powerful arms caught me before I hit the ground.
“Ryker!” Eamon’s voice boomed above me, cutting through the music and chatter, sharp and panicked.
My vision fractured, faces blurring into indistinct shapes as a crowd gathered around me. Through the blur, Ryker appeared beside me, shadows trailing him with deadly intent. His features contorted with rage, but the undercurrent of fear had my pulse racing.
His hands replaced mine, applying pressure that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through my body. “Who did this to you?” His voice was strained, haunted. “Lock down the castle. Find them!” he shouted.
Guards scrambled in all directions as chaos erupted inside the hall. Courtiers scattered like startled birds, their shrieks piercing the air as more soldiers flooded the area, their weapons drawn.
The dagger had slipped between my ribs with expert precision, and the steady flow of blood indicated that my attacker’s aim had been true. A familiar coppery tang coated my throat, and I tried to speak, but my tongue felt thick and unwieldy in my mouth.
The cool press of metal against my wrists drew my attention, and I glanced down to see Ryker slipping the cuffs from my hands.
“Heal yourself, Cadence,” he said in a low voice, so only I could hear.
I closed my eyes, focusing on my magic, but my mind was too hazy to pull at the threads of my power. I was losing too much blood, too quickly, for me to recover.
A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and I felt Ryker press his lips to my temple, kissing it away.
“Come on, Temptress,” he cooed. “Don’t play with me.”
