I could tell he was looking at me specifically, and not us in general, based on the jump my heart made in my chest from his direct attention. Drustan’s fingers tightened on his bicep, and when I forced myself to mold my face into one of nonchalance, the corner of his lips tipped up.
Handsome, lethal siren, I thought to myself, fighting every urge in me that wanted to smirk back at him.
His grin widened after my thought, proving that he was using his whismerra to its full ability. His gaze lowered to what I was wearing, which wasn’t nearly as revealing as the last time we saw each other.
This time, I was wearing dark grey cargo pants that cinched at the ankles, making room for my leather boots. My leather jacket covered my heather grey tank top.
There was nothing particularly enticing about my outfit, but his perusal made heat burn throughout my body, regardless, before he lifted his eyes to meet mine again. Drustan raised his hand just enough to wiggle his fingers at me in a flirtatious greeting.
I suppressed a snort at the playful, boyish charm he was throwing out next to his stone-faced father. Audrey turned to give me a concerned look over her shoulder. I just rolled my eyes at her, an attempt to assure her that I wasn’t becoming a blushing, flustered mess.
She smiled at me and faced forward.
“Welcome,” Ilia’s voice boomed over the court, drawing our attention back to him.
I wanted to ask, “Are we, though?” but I refrained.
A shift in posture from one of the guards to the side of the throne caught my attention. Because their face coverings were pulled down, I recognized the two sirens who attacked me on my boat.
Sergei and Leon. But who was who? I’d already forgotten.
A cold chill of fear skittered down my spine and arms, making me cross them over my chest. The blond siren narrowed his eyes at me in a sneer, and the brunet one straightened his posture. I didn’t want to deal with the blond. Something in my gut churned from his attention, something I didn’t want to toy with.
The brunet, however, I locked eyes on.
I lifted my fist to brush my thumb over my jaw before reaching higher to swipe at my nose once.
The brunet siren pinched his brows together, watching me, but not catching on. I smirked before gently tapping my fist against my cheek, reminding him of the solid hit I got that night on my boat. The brunet frowned at me, so I grinned even wider.
“I hear Bandthral is open to anyone outside of Lydhavn, too,” Audrey explained, shoving her hands in her jeans pockets. She leaned her weight onto one hip, and I was low-key proud of her for looking so relaxed in the face of someone as dangerous as Ilia.
Ilia leaned forward, ignoring her question as he asked, “It generally is, but what brings you here tonight, of all nights?”
Audrey tipped her head and replied, “I figured it was time for me to learn more about Lyndoruun culture.”
Ilia’s eyes narrowed, then shifted, locking on me.Bad, my stomach told me,evil, dangerous, bad.
“And who is your friend, halfling?” Ilia asked, ignoring her question again. I raised my brows at the king’s audacity.Damn, you know her name, you pretentious prick. Drustan grinned at me again, but I did my best to ignore him.
“This is my friend, Van.” Audrey introduced me casually, as if I weren’t that important. I appreciated it; her nonchalance made me seem less threatening.
“Is she a halfling as well?” Ilia pressed, scanning me from head to toe. I didn’t flinch under his examination. He leered, but he wasn’t studying me in a way that made me feel naked. Like his son did. No, Ilia studied me like he was looking for flaws. Cracks in my composition. Eager to point them out.
“Nope,” I answered for myself, popping the p.
Ilia’s brow furrowed. “What gives this human the right to be in our realm?”
I don’t know, man, the fact that I’m not a total piece of shit?
Drustan pressed his lips together in a way that made me suspect that he was holding back another grin or smirk. Trying to stay composed. Perhaps he was just lingering in my head this entire time. Setting himself up with front row seats to my every thought. Was he in Audrey’s head, too? Liam’s? What about all the other sirens here?
Drustan’s eyes lifted toward the wall on my right when a door creaked open, and a tall, stunning blonde woman strode through.
Caelena.
Ilia didn’t acknowledge her presence with anything more than a fleeting glance as she smiled at her cousin and stepped up on the dais, standing next to him.
“Van is not a threat,” Audrey assured the Siren King. “She holds a grant gifted to her by Queen Ada herself.”
