As I should have expected, Eva was a beautiful dancer. No doubt having the skill instilled in her from an early age like most other royals. She held herself with a strong sense of grace. The way she moved was similar to the way her satin gown caressed her body. It seemed to come to her as easy as breathing. And obviously, the way she felt up against me was giving me a mere taste at what it would be like to take her to my bed.
Or her bed.
Or against a wall in the darkest corner of this room.
I was an opportunist, and right now… I wanted her more than the reason I was here.
But as our dance came to an end, and we walked away to talk, I couldn’t help myself from taking her hand. I needed to touch her in some capacity, as that current flowed through the point where our bodies were connected. Gods, it was the first time I’d felt a semblance of happiness in such a long time. All because of this beautiful woman and the one dance we shared.
But that happiness drew to an anti-climactic end as Damien stormed over, interrupting our conversation just like I had with his. Fair was fair, after all. It was a dose of my own medicine, and it tasted like bitter shit as I swallowed it. But she was strong, obviously not impressed by the pissing contest he was trying to bait me into.
I wasn’t intimidated by him, per se. More so intimidated by their relationship. He was obviously someone important to her. But the question was how important? Did she feel for him as he did for her? Was she in love with him? Was I an absolute fool for being drawn to her like I was?
The answer to the last question was most likely yes, but I was keen on punishment if it meant I could be in her presence.
I watched her storm off, the ache in my chest growing larger with every step she took away from me. Damien stood his ground for a moment, eyeing me with great displeasure as he turned on his heel and ran to catch up with her. I clenched my fist to dispel the lingering remains of my anger. In any case, I wasn’t here to fuck the princess of Helia.
I was here to gain information on the rebellion brewing.
By now, I knew that Orion had ridden in from Angoria with news of the growing panic across the realm. Signs that The Horde were stirring once again was being passed from travelers on the road, to the ladies in the markets. Panic was rising in the streets, and it wouldn’t be long until leaders would need to act.
But I needed to know specifics, especially regarding Helia. And that was where my talents as a shadow-bringer came to fruition.
From a young boy, I knew I had two choices in life: be the bad guy or work as an infiltrator.
Both had their appeals, you see. Both came with power, although obvious varying degrees. And it was important to understand that sometimes you couldn’t have one without the other, so really it was a choice as to which one was more important. Even to this day, I didn’t know which way I landed.
You see, I had the uncanny ability to become a part of the shadows themselves. To hide myself in plain sight and wrap myself in the darkness. Listening in to conversations has become a second nature, something that was pushed onto me by my father. As I was the eldest sibling, I was taught the hard lessons. Many times, I had been caught by whoever my father had sent me to study, therefore receiving lashes by his hand out of anger. To the world, I was simply an inquisitive child. To my father? I was being forged into a weapon he could wield against his enemies.
You can see where my path became destined for me before I had a chance to really choose.
My abilities didn’t stop at eavesdropping talents. I also had an innate relationship with a specific raven, a familiar if you will. Branwen came to me on the day of my birth, never leaving my side. Even when she wasn’t with me in her physical form, she attached herself to my body in the form of a tattoo. Always watching, always listening.
It was rare for shadow-bringers to be gifted with a familiar. Even more so when you consider that none had been recorded in the past few centuries. My father looked at it as a gift from the gods. Clearly, I was destined to do great things if we’d been bestowed this courtesy. Because of that, I often looked at it as a curse. Something that my father was able to use in order to push me to do horrific things. Things I didn’t want to do. Things that would turn me into the monster he was.
And if anyone else knew what I was? I’d be shunned in a heartbeat since we were looked at as being inherently evil. Our people had been hunted and killed after The Great War, as many used their gifts for evil. Often, shadow-bringers were linked with witchcraft. In particular, with dark practitioners that had pledged themselves to the deepest, darkest parts of their souls and were content to watch the world burn and descend into absolute chaos.
So, I was here to gather information and get out unscathed. It was foolish to dance with Eva so publicly. All eyes were on us as we twirled around the room, due to both her royal standing and her sheer beauty.
Did I care, though? Absolutely-fucking-not.
In fact, I was so enamored with watching her that I didn’t notice the dark, brooding body that had slithered up next to me.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
I looked over, already aware of who I would find beside me.
“What do you want, Trystan?”
He gave a wicked smile and tilted his head to the side. “Brother, youwoundme. What would father say if he heard you talking like that?”
“I didn’t give a shit when he was alive, and I sure as hell don’t give a shit now that he’s dead,” I grunted.
My sentiments were probably dark, definitely a little twisted, but I spoke the truth. My father was a stain on the fae race. A man whose evil knew no bounds, and I wasn’t the least bit sad he was gone.
“Now, Matthew… It isn’t good to talk ill of the dead. You know they can still hear you from the other side. They’re just as much a part of the shadows as the living.”
I scoffed. Unfortunately, I did know that. “Do you have daddy dearest whispering sweet praises into your ear, little brother?”
