I surveyed the space, the people moving in stop-motion from the erratic lights while I continued forcing the tension and vigilance from my rigid body—old habits die hard. I downed the rest of my drink and allowed the alcohol to lull my nerves.
Delah, ever the optimist, snagged my wrist and pulled me into the mass of bodies that clogged the dance area. The tangy smell of Glint engulfed me like fog in the vale.
“Delah!” A feminine voice carried through the din. Delah turned and embraced the woman.
“Rue, this is Jazmina, a fellow elixist I work with.” I nodded and smiled a greeting. Delah turned toward Jazmina, chatting. Their laughter rang in the air at some shared inside joke. I glanced away from their friendly banter. Delah deserved to experience the freedom and joy of friendships and thrilling nights out. It was for this very thing that I had fought in the Scourge.
I turned just as two unnaturally attractive, and very muscular, men sauntered over. Delah paused her conversation.
“Care to dance?” the blonde one asked Delah. She grabbed his hand as a devious smile formed. She repositioned herself toward her willing partner. He wore his long hair in a top knot, the sides shaved, like some god of the north. Just Delah’s type. I kept her in my sights as they got acquainted with each other.
The darker man hovered near me. “You probably want to dance with that one.” I gestured toward Jazmina.
“Actually, I would like to dance with you.” He extended his hand.
I eyed him. Why not?
The scent of leather and amber tugged on the edges of my mind as I drew closer to him. I reflexively inhaled it. Darkness swirled around him as the moonlight flickered. His shadows blended seamlessly with the night around him to the casual observer. But I had experience with sentient darkness. Awareness shot through me. This was the general. Though he hid behind his shadows previously, did he think I wouldn’t recognize him? Or did he just not care?
He lowered his face to speak into my ear. “You don’t seem like the type to frequent these events.” I suppressed a shiver. A little flirting wouldn’t hurt my chances at gleaning some information from him. Two could play this game.
I peered upward, trying to assess his face. His eyes flared briefly, but the shadows obscured a clear view. “This isn’t my scene. I’m here for my friend. And I could say the same for you. This doesn’t seem like your idea of a good time.” I arched my brow.
He shrugged one shoulder. “I told you I’d find you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him before he sent me into a spin. I caught glimpses of bodies unfolding off of the thick vines dangling above us, arms extended in the air around me, in time to the beat of drums, and couples twirling in hypnotic motion.
He pulled me back into his body, moving with sensuous grace. My own body awakened. The revelry and my previous purple drink loosened my inhibitions. I felt like a flower leaning toward the sun, willing to be scorched by the heat of the temptation in front of me. I could set aside my hatred if it meant I got him talking.
It had been years since I allowed myself to indulge with a man. None had come close to the caliber of what stood before me. The heartless general. No one was more off-limits. No one I hated more.
I wondered how far I could push him.
His large hand skimmed down my arms, landing in the dip of my waist. He firmly commanded my body as we moved in time with the music. His touch seared my skin through the thin fabric of my dress, and I wondered if he had this effect on all the women he danced with. His forearms flexed as his hand devoured my waistline.
I casually draped my arms around his neck, playing with his cropped dark hair. He kept it short on the sides and longer on top. A few strands tried to fall across his forehead, begging for my correction. Dark, silvery runes cast a light shimmer from his jaw down below his collar. I blinked at the inscriptions, but they disappeared. I’d never seen a tattoo like that.
“Brazen of you to waltz into Maripol without a weapon,” I ventured.
“Seemed pointless when I am one.”
I scoffed. He might have been right, but I wouldn’t let him know that. Rule number one when dealing with handsome men: never let them believe you find them attractive.
“Your confidence far exceeds your demonstrated performance.” I smiled sweetly. “I could kill you right here.” My affinity lanced into the hand at my waist—a blade of burning ice I made sure would sting, but not quite draw blood.
Shadows snaked around my throat, warm and velvety, subtly tightening. He leaned forward again, not even remotely affected by my threat. “Then do it.” He pulled me closer, pressing my ice blade further into himself.
I released my hold on my affinity. I didn’t want to get blood on Delah’s dress.
“Have you investigated my claims that your king provides his citizens with poison?” The low rumble of his tone in my ear stirred my core, despite the treasonous words he spoke.
The neckline of my halter inched downward as my chest brushed against his own. “And why would that be true when my primary directives are to destroy Glint traffickers and find the source of its supply? What a waste of an elite soldier like myself if it hinged on a lie.” I dragged my fingers along his neck and down his chest. Gods, he was huge. A muscle feathered in his jaw and his breathing tensed. Good. I affected him as much as he affected me.
“Illusionists pretending to be leaders know how to create immaculate distractions. Wouldn’t you agree?” His eyes glinted.
“Is that not what you are doing in this very moment?” I held his gaze, biting my lower lip. He swallowed, tracking the movement.
The general moved me around other couples, ignoring my barb. “Perhaps you should ask yourself what might be in it for him. Or why he seems to collect orphans.” My eyes narrowed. He knew who I was and probably knew my background. Now that I’d seen his face, I would be able to track him better and learn more about where he came from and what he was after.
