Anger floods me, and shadows begin to stir in the corner of my eye.Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Not now. Icannotlose control.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I have an open mind about the goddess, as I told you. If you find me so unworthy, perhaps you should have declined to oversee the ceremony. And I believe my family’s heirlooms belong in my family’s possession.”
I nod toward Siegrid, who approaches swiftly.
“Siegrid, the Mother Priestess is exhausted and needs to retire for the evening. Can you personally see to it that she reaches her chambers?”
Siegrid bows to me, then grabs the Mother Priestess’s arm, leading her away.
“Well, that was weird,” Saela mumbles.
“No kidding,” I say. “Speaking of exhausted, are you ready to head back to your room?”
Saela nods gratefully, and I wave down Helene. After the two of them depart, I slip down the stairs past the other waiting nobles, ignoring the questioning eyes that land on me.
I need air. This cavernous room is suddenly stifling.
There’s a side door behind a table overladen with chocolates and pastries, and I make for it as fast as my heavy gown and stupid dress shoes allow. It opens onto one of the balconies that overlooks the castle grounds.
Letting the door close behind me, I make my way over to the banister. The cold stone is delicious against my overheated skin. A scent of snow is in the air.
It’s only a minute or two before my solitude is interrupted. The door opens with a burst of warm, damp air from inside.
Maybe it’s his tread against the solid stone of the balcony floor.
Or maybe it’s a subtle change in the back of my mind, Anassa’s awareness shifting, blending with my own, giving me an almost wolfish intuition.
But somehow, I don’t have to turn and look to know it’s Stark.
I swallow hard but keep my gaze straight ahead, watching the trees of the courtyard shiver in the frigid wind. Stark is quiet as he moves to stand beside me at the balustrade. I don’t look at him, but I can feel his movement, sense the heat coming off him, his arm resting inches from mine as he leans on the banister and looks out.
Neither of us says anything for a moment, and the silence settles over me like a comforting blanket. It’s odd to be in his presence and also so… at peace.
Eventually, I sense his gaze on me, and I turn to meet his dark eyes, pools of night in the dim light.
My breath hitches, that tension between us from yesterday returning in full force.
What would it be like to take him up on that offer? To tattoo him somewhere intimate and learn the feel of his skin with my tongue?
“Hiding from your scary subjects?” His teasing, low voice interrupts themoment. But his gaze holds mine, and I somehow know there’s concern behind the question.
“Only until they all go to bed?” I laugh weakly. He just stares at me, as if he’s drinking in every detail of my appearance. “Can you blame me? A bunch of ass-kissers who normally treat the Bonded like garbage, suddenly falling all over themselves to tell me howhappythey are for me, howgladthey are to serve the rightful queen. Honestly, I’d rather drive nails into my eyeballs.”
That gets a snort from him, though his gaze never drops. “Ass-kissers or not, you need them to show their support, even if it’s a total farce.”
“I know,” I sigh.
“Their wealth, the soldiers from their fiefdoms, their influence over their subjects, it’s all—”
“Iknow,” I bite sharply, my irritation spilling over as I turn to face him fully, leaning in. “I might act like an idiot most of the time, but I’m not a total imbecile.”
The clouds overhead are thinning, and the moonlight outlines his hair, the angles of his cheekbones, making him look like a hero from one of Saela’s storybooks—or a villain. He looks different tonight, I think, although I can’t pinpoint why exactly. Something in the set of his face.
“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. Maybe I’m making it up, but I could swear there’s a longing in his voice.
Is it just our wolves’ mate bond influencing him? Or… something else?
