As Vivienne sang, three of the Cherubim behind her began choking on shadows. Shadows colored like midnight with infinitesimal lavender starlight. The Cherubim screamed as they burned from the inside out.
I took my seat and watched my handiwork. Those three had visibly shown their disdain for Vivienne. They mocked her, and while she wasn’t listening, planned to sabotage her this night. Vivienne hadn’t been listening while I worked with her. She even called them friends.
But I had.
I calmly watched on as they burned. Screamed. The audience shrieked in terror, mortified by the horrendous sight. I chuckled darkly to myself, pleased with my fruits. If the Gargorètti were going to bully me into having a protégé,no onewould surpass her in this manor.
“Nahomie.”
Tassarion turned on me, walking over. He pushed me back into the loveseat, resting his hands on either side of my body. The king leaned down, coming so close our noses could touch.
“Tassarion,” I answered cooly, batting my lashes at him.
“You cannot keep doing this.”
“They’re not dead.”
His lips twitched.
Amusement danced in his eyes.
“Will I be punished for this?” I asked sweetly. I curled my knees beneath me, leaning towards the behemoth of a male. “Will I be shackled to my bedchambers?” A tilt of my head. “Oryours?”
His eyes fell to my lips. His gaze darkened with molten heat, eyes like lightning threatening to consume me.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Everheart.”
Everheart. Stars. He said it again.
My chest squeezed.
“Games and danger. Two of my favorite things, Amouré.”
My love.
I bit down on my lip. The endearment slipped out before I could stop myself. Tassarion froze, eyes burning holes into me. He leaned closer, a low snarl rising to his lips. I slipped a hand into his hair. Pulled him even closer. I licked my lips before tilting my head towards him, waiting to see what the Monster King would do with his bride in this boxed chamber.
A knock at the door threatened to break the spell.
“This better be important,” Tassarion growled, tossing the words over his shoulder, eyes never breaking from mine.
“Mi Roi.”
It was Obsidian.
For rotting sake.
Of course, it was Obsidian.
“A tribunal has been set. Jacques Beauradèl has been found guilty for the murder of Richard Beauradèl and has been sentenced to death.”
My eyes widened. What was Obsidian prattling on about?
The grin that spread across Tassarion’s face made me shudder.
What had my mate done?
Tassarion rolled his neck before cracking them on both sides.
