I repress a shudder as he tilts back and grabs my hand, kissing my knuckles while looking at me through blown pupils. Drinking me in a gentler way than the one I’m certain he’s imagining.
Pining for.
“Later,” he promises, flashing me a serpentine smile that’s all teeth before he drapes my hair back over his mark and tugs me toward the exit.
Later.
I frantically reinforce my domes again …
Play the fucking part.
Swallowing waves of nausea, I’m led through the courtyard and out the palace gates, the sun blazing upon my face and all my bare patches of skin. We near a clopping swell of saddled horses and armed guards, each adorned with golden helmets winged at the sides. The horses’ eyes are half concealed with blinders, their manes hidden by flat, interweaving peels of gold that mold to their shape.
We move through the throng, approaching a huge white horse held in place by a stoic-faced Kolden. Cainon grips me around the waist, lifts me, and sets me upon the thick saddle blanket, the animal shifting in a tight, agitated prance.
I grab a leather strap as a blow of wind tousles the strips of my dress, exposing the swell of my breast and the curve of my inner thigh.
Blushing, I smooth the material as best I can with one hand, gripping the horse with the other. But a quick glance at the guards assures me they either didn’t notice or they know better than to steal a peek of what’s deemed their High Master’s property.
Aboomrips through the silence, and I jolt. Some of the horses buck and squeal, the one beneath me tossing his head about and making my heart bolt. A litter of blue light rains from the sky, burning out before it hits the bay.
Cainon snatches the reins off Kolden and leaps up behind me, pulling me tight against his chest. I’m sealed between his legs, my heart hacking at my ribs as I catch Kolden’s fleeting stare—his jaw set, eyes hard.
He turns toward his own horse, and my gaze spears across the bridge, dread sitting heavy in my gut. “Do we have to go far before we reach this … gift?”
“Not far,” Cainon whispers in my ear, his excitement evident in his hitched voice.
More bristled bumps explode across my shoulder. Up the side of my neck.
Cainon digs his heels in, and we jerk forward. The beast leaps into a rocky trot, then a smoother canter that has my entire body rising and falling between Cainon’s thighs.
“Relax, petal. I only bite behind closed doors.”
I slam another ready-made shell atop the dome containing my self-disgust, then force myself to lean back, molding to him, feeling my blood curdle as a rumble of appreciation rattles from his chest through my back. It’s so close, so intimate, that I feel a chunk of my heart cleave off and crumble away like sunburnt soil.
Breathe.
Just play the fucking part.
We race over the bridge beneath the sun’s severe glare, trailed by an orchestra of hooves clopping against the cobbles. I keep my hair plastered around the side of my neck as we break onto the esplanade and slow, moving through the city streets, a sea of men, women, and children emerging from doors and stores and tight side alleys to follow our path. Some of the smaller children tug at the adults’ shirts or hands, frowning, questions pouring from their mouths in a jumble of garbled words.
“Whada we doin’, Maamy?”
“Ah we goewing to see mowah da pwetty sky spahkles?”
The adults remain tight lipped, quelling the children’s questions while nipping glances at the guards who escort us through the streets.
A heavy sense of dread settles upon my shoulders, even as I harbor a seed of hope tucked in my reticule—searching the crowd for a familiar face.
I just need one.
More and more people swarm, packing in around us, until we come to the end of the street, spilling into a massive cobbled square. The buildings surrounding it are tall and chunky, each boasting tiers of balconies stuffed full of people—their attention nipping at a large object draped in blue fabric.
A cold sweat breaks across the back of my neck.
Down my spine.
The guards behind us fan out around the perimeter, halting their horses in a steady, unified formation as hundreds of men, women, and children spill in after us.
