“You certainly did.”
And when Raphael spoke, there was something like pride in his eyes.
Chapter Seventeen
Raphael
Raphael turned the envelopeover in his hands. The faint scent of sea salt clung to the wax seal. Earlier this evening, a messenger had delivered it to him with an attention-grabbing display, beseeching him to personally attend the southern kingdom’s annual festival, painting a lovely picture of dances and musical performances and countless other extravagances. But inside the supposed invitation the messenger had turned over?
The southern king hadn’t written a word about the festival.
It was poor timing, especially with Amalthea gone north. Her counsel would’ve been invaluable. Normally, the oracle was much more careful in her planning, but there was no denying she’d been distracted.
He couldn’t exactly cast any stones. He, too, was distracted. This fledgling business… The goblet next to him was drained of blood. It tasted as rotten as the rest, but he was used to it by now. It would help him leash the monstrous hunger inside him, even if it wasn’t the blood he truly craved.
His attention turned to the door again. Samara had avoided him since the kiss several days ago, refusing training, only attending court where he was otherwise engaged and sitting as far away as the fledgling bond allowed.
He hated that she had moved so far away from him. Hated that she even wanted distance from him. A few hundred steps, yes, would take seconds to cross for him if he needed to.
But there were a lot of ways people could die in those seconds. Especially since she guarded against their mental bond, even if he was a hypocrite to complain. The sight of her in that red dress, stained darker by blood, haunted him. It kept him up past dawn most days. So much blood…
Well, if all went to plan, they’d be spending time in very close quarters.
Despite his centuries alive, he wasn’t made of infinite patience.
“Do you intend to stand there until the dawn drops you from your feet so I have to carry you, or will you open the damn door and enter of your own volition?”
His voice rang through the door, and after a moment of hesitation, the handle turned.
Samara stood at his doorway now. She wore a dark orange dress that hung off her frame, the neckline a low square that exposed her throat completely. Her white hair was pulled back into a braid, not a single strand falling forward. Not like how she’d kept it loose as a human. Like she didn’t want to see even a strand in her periphery.
He forced himself to remain seated behind his desk. Her skin was brighter, eyes clearer than when she’d sparred with him. His blood had done that. The thought pleased him, but the knowledge she was still bordering on starving chased away any satisfaction.
He was never quite sure what to expect from his little viper. Tonight, her shoulders were squared back, chin lifted.
Intent on pretending the kiss two days ago had never happened? As if he could forget even a moment of when her body had pressed to him. The vicious way she’d wanted him, even if she seemed determined to ignore her own feelings.
“You called, Raphael?” She waited a beat, but he was too busy enjoying the sound of his name on her tongue. “What do you want from me?”
He rose from behind his desk. “Oh, I don’t think you’re ready to hear that.” He took a step closer, letting his expression tell her everything he was thinking. “Not yet, anyway.”
Her lips parted slightly, aghast, stiff ice behind her eyes melting as the innuendo reached her. He hid a grin, enjoying her reaction. Especially the way she tried to recover, squaring herself like they were in the arena. “Tell me what you want or I’m leaving.”
For all his resolve to stay away, there were only a few paces between them. Like a moth to her flame, he always wound up circling her.
“When the sun next sets, we will leave for Limanos, the southern kingdom’s capital.”
“Tomorrow?” She pulled at her lip, the barest point of a fang peeking out.Adorable. She’d have stabbed him if he said that, though. “That’s not much notice.”
He arched a brow. “Did you have other plans?”Besides avoiding me?
She frowned. “Not precisely. I just… didn’t expect we’d be going anywhere. Together.”
“Unless the bond’s condition suddenly changed while you spent the past few days avoiding me, there’s not much of a choice.” Perhaps he wasn’t as good at hiding his annoyance as he’d hoped. The bond was the only reason he would have her leave the safety of Damerel, customs be damned. Yes, technically, as his fledgling—and former Chosen—therewould be expectations about her future role in his court. Like presenting her to society on a diplomatic mission like this.
“You know it hasn’t,” she ground out. “How much longer will this bond keep me captive?”
“Captive?” He knew better than to tell a woman she was being dramatic, so he let the single word do the talking. Okay, yes, she couldn’t come and go as she pleased. But all she had to do was hint at what she might like, and he would drop everything to provide it. There were surelyworsefates.
