“Come dance with me, Dakkari,” she teased, crooking her finger at him. As if pulled by a string, Brune stumbled forward once he rose from his seat. His big body was awkward, but Ethrisha grinned up at him and taught him steps he couldn’t have possibly known.
I laughed, slumping back down into the seat Brune had just vacated next to Syris, who sat stiffly, sipping on her own goblet. Not of wine but of unfermented juice.
“Are you having fun?” I asked her, shouting over the music and the laughter and the voices.
I was used to large gatherings like this. My mother knew half of our district, and every moon, the streets of Dothik were filled with food and dancing just like tonight.Thisfelt like home…and instead of making me sad, it helped the ache. Or maybe that was the wine.
And Karag wine, I’d discovered, was a bit stronger than Dakkari brew.
“I hate when people ask me that,” Syris shot back. “Of course I’m having fun.”
I hid my smile at her frown, especially when that frown turned into an even deeper scowl when she caught sight of Moak flirting and kissing yet another girl who wasn’t her. Aswell as the girl he’d brought back to the hatchery my first morning there.
Syris harrumphed, tossing back her dark indigo hair.
“Wine?” I asked, offering my goblet to her.
She seemed to debate for a moment before accepting it from my hands and taking a steady chug.
“Easy,” I laughed, snatching it back. “We might have a new hatchling tomorrow.”
The egg was on the verge of hatching, or so Tarkosh believed. I couldn’t wait to witness it, had even been hesitant to come tonight, almost volunteering to stay behind at the hatchery. But Tarkosh had waved us off. We’d been cleaning out nests all morning, continuing their prep, as the Rythback hatchling, who’d been named Kyr, had raced around us, creating havoc. She thought we deserved the break.
Now that I was here, I was glad I came. Nearly all of Grymia was in attendance, spread out on the landing field, which was the only large enough open space to accommodate everyone. The loom of the forest directly around us made the gathering seem more intimate, torchlight and glowing orbs casting the party in shimmering gold. The wine flowing over my tongue made everything seem softened around the edges. I was having fun with these Karag, and even Ethrisha had commented how at ease I seemed with such a large group of strangers.
But I was used to people around all the time. Being alone was what scared me. That was when I was out of my element, when I felt the most vulnerable.
And maybe that was why I’d felt so betrayed by Kiron leaving us. I knew it was necessary, but there was still a part of me that mourned his absence when he had always been part of us. Like a limb he’d willingly severed.
But tonight I was far from alone, and I was enjoying the feast with my new friends. I laughed as Ethrisha teased Brune, dancing around him in a circle while his eyes traced her. I observed theKarag all around me, old and young, coming together. And while I saw certain looks cast my way, I liked to imagine that they were only in curiosity, not distrust or malice. It was only natural, I knew, so I didn’t let it worry me.
The feast, it seemed, was in celebration of theKarathof Grym, finally returned to the Arsadia, where he would apparently stay until the end of the rider season.
My gaze was unwillingly pulled to his form, sitting at a table with a group of his chosen riders, Myzalla near him with her husband. They were speaking while Alaryk looked at ease and relaxed in his chair, which he made look more like a throne. There was a laziness to his surveillance of the gathering. I’d caught the prickle of his gaze on me once or twice, but I had refused to assuage my curiosity, only sneaking peeks at him when I thought it was safe.
Only this time, when I looked at him, his gaze snapped to mine, like he’d been waiting for it. I was so startled that I found my eyes trapped, unwilling to leave his, trying to figure out what he wanted, what he would do.
The blue of his eyes seemed to shimmer across the field. He still spoke with Myzalla, but his attention was on me. I felt my heartbeat begin to thunder. My blood rushed in my veins, but whether it was from the music and the wine or theKarath’s pretty, dangerous eyes,I couldn’t be certain.
When I felt the prodding of his heartstone magic, seeking like tendrils, I nearly gasped, conjuring something like a shield in my mind and tearing myself away before he could get inside.
The moment made the wine in my belly turn sour. I needed to remember myself and the danger I could be in. The guardsmen hadn’t approached Brune and me in the last week of our being here. I could almost believe that we were just here to experience the life of the Karag. Desperately, I hoped that was all it would ever be.
“Are you all right?” Syris asked, looking at me with a frown. “You’ve gone a little pale.”
“Too much wine, I think,” I lied, thrusting my goblet back into her hand. “You finish mine.”
She nodded. When I chanced another look back over to theKaratha long time later, I found that his attention had been pulled by a female who had perched herself on the edge of his chair, leaning down to speak into his ear.
Fascinated, I watched.
“Who’s that?” I asked Syris. “Speaking with theKarath?”
“Rivenna,” she answered. “She works in the smithery.”
I cast a look over at her, my brow raised.
“Yes, if that’s what you’re asking,” Syris told me, a little smirk perched on her lips, the wine already relaxing her. “They’ve been…involved.”
