He grasps my bicep firmly and leans down to murmur in my ear. “Pretty bird, when the Devil tells you to sing, it’s best to sing like your life depends on it.” His warm breath on my neck makes me shiver, but it’s his words that have dread pooling in my stomach.
“Fine.”
“Good girl.”
Oh.
Ohhhhh fuck.
In my stunned shock, he takes the opportunity to lead us through the parting crowd without releasing me.
“Why do you call me that?” I ask.
He glances down at me and smirks. “You flew in by moonlight and sang so sweetly of defiance in the dawn. Then, pretty bird, you flitted around until none of us could forget your song.”
I frown. “What does that even mean?” But he doesn’t answer as the distance between us and the group of Councilmen and their families I’d been hoping to avoid at all costs closes. He guides me in front of him and leans down to whisper in my ear, “And now I’ve caught you. What shall I do with you, hm? Will you sing for me, too?”
“I—” have no fucking idea how to react except to suppress my shiver as his words dance over my skin. I recognize the four elemental patriarchs, Cyrus, and the women who must be their wives. Renard is whispering with a stunning redhead who shares Roth’s black eyes. Soren is…gross, fondling the much-too-young-for-him woman in a corner while Thane stands as far away as possible with Killian and an older blonde who’s smiling at him like the sun shines out of his ass. Preston, Marcus, Cyrus, and a dark-haired woman are drinking together while Luther looms behind them, as miserable as I’ve ever seen him.
“Nyx.” When Roth introduces me to his parents in a wooden voice, I realize in hindsight that he was playing with me. Toying with me. Son of a bitch. “You remember my father, Renard, and this is my mother, Rebecca.” Renard’s condescending tone is no less arrogant than it was at the hearing as he looks me over with that chilling, emotionless stare.
“Ms. Bryke, I’m told you’ve not had any more displays of power, is that correct?”
“Hello, Councilman Kovacs, how nice to see you again.” Roth’s grip on my arm squeezes, just for a moment. A warning, much like Tori’s. “That is correct.”
He locks eyes with me as he finishes his drink. “Shame.”
“Nyx—it’s lovely to finally meet you,” Rebecca holds her hand out limply and I gently shake her fingers because what the hell kind of handshake is that? Roth’s close enough that his breath heats my neck when he laughs under his breath—at least I think he’s laughing. Is that even possible? “Roth’s spoken very highly of you.”
I look up at him with my best customer service smile. “Is that so?”
Everything from her smile to her tinkling laugh is a perfectly curated performance. “Of course! I’m looking forward to hearing of your success in the Crypteia. We’re expecting great things from our little Bloodwitch.” I didn’t think I was that predictable until Roth preempts my instinct to mouth off and squeezes my arm again. Despite the last time Roth touching me involved his hand around my throat, right now it feels… comforting isn’t the right word, because I mean, it’s Roth. But… at least I’m not alone in this proverbial pit of vipers.
“That’s so kind of you to say.” I beam until it feels like my face is about to fall off. Just as Renard is likely going to say something that makes me hate him even more than I already do, Rebecca catches sight of someone and waves.
“Excuse us, Nyx. Roth, let’s say hello to the Beauchamps.”
He tenses and I briefly mourn the absence of his heat when he says, “Of course, Mother.” Rebecca extends her hand in that same limp fish handshake and Roth takes it with a brittle smile so like my own. Renard joins Rebecca’s other side as her arm winds around Roth’s waist.
“Behave for Killian,” he whispers in my ear before they leave.
I swear to fuck I actually tingle.
Nope.
Not doing that right now.
“Nyx?” When I turn, Killian is drop dead fucking gorgeous in a deep blue velvet suit with black satin edging that complements his deep blue eyes.
This just isn’t fair.
“Hey.” He rakes his eyes over my body just as the older blonde joins him, who has his eyes, I notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”
He looks so sincere that I can’t help but blush. “Thank you.”
The woman lightly taps his chest with the back of her hand and smiles. “Killian, aren’t you going to introduce me to this lovely young lady?”
“This is my friend, Nyx. Nyx, this is my mother, Claire Hastings.” Unlike Rebecca, Claire, in comparison, is a beam of sunshine that melts away the unease from the creepy Kovacs’ with a single touch.
