Tavo tilts his head and eyes me. “What about Ransom-girl? Should we be seen with her?”
Dante’s eyes are hard as marble as they look my way; mine are harder. “Marco asked me to keep an eye on her, so it serves us all to be spotted together.”
“Don’t know what your plans are”—Tavo shoves past his friends—“but I’m done camping on the doormat. I want food, a bath, and a broad. Especially since I hear the girls are prettier in these parts. More exotic.” He waggles his eyebrows before shouldering open the door.
The smell that escapes would normally make my wilted insides clamor for food, but they’re tied in too many knots to so much as growl.
Unlike his brutish friend, Gabriele holds the door open for Dante, who climbs up the three front steps, then ducks beneath the low doorframe but not before looking over his shoulder at me. “Come, Fallon.”
There’s no place farther I’d like to be than at this man’s side. “I’ll come when I’m ready.”
He looses a sigh. “I’m not going to kill you. Our interests are all aligned.”
But if they weren’t. . . Gods, I thought I hated Lorcan but it pales for how I feel about Dante.
I’d murder him first, Behach Éan.
I snort. Of course he would. Anything for his precious Crows. My lashes sag under the weight of my harrowing disappointment.
You forget that you’re one of them, Fallon. One of my precious Crows.
I’m only precious because I’m your tool, Lorcan Reebyaw.
And that is exactly what I am. A tool. A pawn. A thing to be used and discarded by these men.
I stare between the Sky King and the Earth Prince who both need me, Bronwen’s prophecy thudding through my skull:Free the five iron crows, and you will be queen.
Bronwen never mentioned I’d be Dante’s queen, only that Luce would be mine.
My anger turns to shock. Shock and confusion. Lorcan was going to putmeon the Isolacuorin throne. I shake my head, fists clenching. What a marvelous puppet I would’ve made.
That isn’t—
I raise my palm to quiet him. I don’t want to hear any more sweet lies or unsavory truths. Not tonight. Not ever.After this, Lorcan, after I’ve brought you and your Crows home, I’ll be leaving Luce and the two of you idiots. You can murder each other for all I care.
Resolve drying my eyes, I stomp beneath Lorcan and past Dante.
Seventy
Our arrival knocks open a fair share of mouths and eyes.
Although wet sand dulls the splendor of my sopping gown, I still stick out like a Fae at a sprite carousal. Thankfully, the three males in full military regalia stick out more.
I shiver as heat envelops my body, pimples my skin, and loosens my joints. I hadn’t even realized how nippy it was outside. Fire is a truly wondrous element. As I stare around the small, rustic establishment, I compare it toBottom of the Jug.
Here, there are no chairs, only benches, the bar can barely fit the two women behind it, and the tables are all communal. Nevertheless, the bare-chested doxies are present. Young men and women, with hair down to their shoulders, straddle laps, feeding patrons drinks and food using fingertips, teeth, and cleavage. None have spiky ears, but also, none have shaved scalps.
I count three pairs of spiked ears amongst the patrons, and that doesn’t include the men I’ve come with.
The room is silent. Even the giggling harlots have grown as gap-mouthed as the fish smoking over the fire in the large hearth.
“Oh my Gods, it’s—” One of them stands so abruptly that whatever food she’d smeared on her collarbone for her customer to lick off, drops to the floor. “Princci Dante.” She curtsies, a glob of brown sauce rolling down the channel between her breasts.
“Sit, please.” Dante waves a hand. “No need for any greetings.”
A woman with sharp green eyes and cheeks rouged by heat and manual labor walks out from behind the narrow bar. “Altezza, what a surprise. Welcome.” She can’t help herself from inclining her head. “What can we get you and your riding party?”
“Hay and an attendant for our horses. Food, board, and a bath for us.”
