Page 218

Weirdo.

I push away from the bar, light a cigarette, and lean against one of the pillars overlooking the chapel.

Lucan is draped across a stool beside Damaris, one arm hooked around his waist, his hand resting under the table as Damaris continues whatever conversation they're having with the bartender.

A few stools farther down, Adrian nurses a drink alone. The moment he notices me looking, he lifts his glass before his attention drifts toward one of the private balconies.

Still an asshole for dragging Marius into his mess, but perhaps a useful one. Helping get Rowan back bought him more goodwill than he'd probably ever admit to wanting.

I follow his gaze and find my cousin backed against the railing, thoroughly occupied with a silver-haired man at least twice his age.

Fucking hell, my cousin is never going to learn.

I may feel a little sorry for the asshole, but not enough to change their situation. Especially not when my situation is sitting at a table, laughing and having fun without me by his side.

I finish my cigarette and crush it beneath my heel, then grab the drinks from the bar and make my way toward the booth.

Rowan is already tucked in beside Aster, the two of them talking over each other as though they're trying to make up for years in a single evening.

Everybody looks up.

Everybody except them.

Cassian remains planted behind Aster's chair, looking about as interested in sharing her attention as I am in sharing Rowan's.

I set Rowan’s glass down a little harder than necessary and drop into the empty chair beside Rowan with a sigh. Neither of them even fucking notices.

“Remember when you tried to teach me how to ride that stupid hoverboard?” Aster is saying.

Rowan groans. “You broke your arm.”

“No, you did, you silly. Ma was furious.”

“Hey, you were the one driving us into a wall.”

“That’s because you told me to go faster.”

Aster barks out a laugh. “Light, remember Ma’s face?”

Rowan doubles over laughing. “She thought we'd killed each other.”

“She nearly killed both of us herself.”

Another round of laughter follows, the kind that only seems possible between people who share the same memories, and yeah…I’m happy for him, I really am. But damn it if I’d admit I want his attention all to my selfish self.

Around the table, the guards remain watchful while the conversation drifts on, half the men listening to old childhood stories and the other half looking like they're prepared to start a small war if somebody so much as breathes wrong.

I’m definitely part of camp two. I’m getting fucking restless.

Leaning back in my chair, I take a drink, letting my gaze drift across the table until it catches on the half-empty bottle of wine between Rowan and Aster.

Rowan's glass is empty.

What the hell?

“Since when do you drink alcohol?”

Aster's head snaps up. “Why? Is that a problem?”