Disgust roiled my stomach. The reek of bile mingled with the bitter tang of wine and the metallic bite of blood. Heaving again,vomit spilled over the dark floor. I stepped aside, careful to keep my bare feet away from the slick mess.
“You should rest tonight—you’ve taken too much,” Egath murmured, arms crossed. “You’re in no state to dine among my brethren.”
“Ourbrethren.” Tallon gasped, then straightened, pressing his sleeve to his mouth. Feverish green eyes flared with jealous fire. He seized my arm, dragging me behind him.
I bit my tongue, holding back the impulse to jerk away. I lacked the strength to fight him. Kallias would tell me to conserve my energy for the perfect moment. I was his queen. I would endure the bastard prince until I no longer had to.
Maybe I’d have Gyrak eat him.
Egath exhaled a long, heavy sigh but followed us, leaving the floor mottled with stomach acid and blood. Perhaps they kept their halls so dim to avoid drawing attention to the stains.
Tallon leaned on me, my own body trembling from malnourishment and endless abuse. Step by step, we made it to the dining hall. He straightened, brushing hair from his face and resting a hand on his belt.
Kallias did that.
I wanted to rip away from him, slap him, force him to learn some measure of restraint. If only he had taken more from Kallias and less from his mother.
Lips curling into that signature smirk, he led us into the room.
I ignored the bruising pain of my collar and kept my chin tucked low as best I could. I was no longer defeated. Kallias stirred the bud of hope in my chest into a ragged blossom, and meager strength from my last meal seeped into my starving muscles.
But they couldn’t know.
The Velli roared their excitement as Tallon strode between the tables. Their cheers assaulted my ears, but he absorbed them, standing taller, spine straighter, chin lifted a fraction higher.
Deimos greeted him with a raised brow, studying him as he approached. “I hear you’ve had an eventful day.”
“I’ve been busy.” He grinned, pushing me into a chair.
I pressed my palms to my thighs, eyes fixed on my empty plate, ears straining. Would Deimos test him? Probe his loyalty?
“I remind you, prince: you are my guest. My halls are no refuge for those who would bring death to my court. Remember your place.”
“You encouraged me to practice,” Tallon crooned, dropping beside me. “I’m exercising my powers.”
“Take care, or I’ll encourage you to exercise them on the beasts in the forest.”
Deimos rose, circling the table. The hairs on my nape prickled as the king walked behind us. An anxious hush fell when he draped a hand on Tallon’s shoulder. He chuckled like a father indulging a misbehaving child. His silver strands tumbled in a sleek stream as he tangled his long fingers in Tallon’s hair, jerking his head back.
Gray eyes met mine.
Tallon hissed, going rigid, fighting to hold himself still. Sharp teeth hovered a breath from his throat. Fangs glinted as Deimos licked the salty sweat there.
He was reminding his court who ruled, reminding the bastard prince whose grace he depended on.
Reminding me what he was capable of.
“You need me.” Tallon’s words trembled against his nervous swallow.
“Do I?” The king laughed. “I could take your blood, claim your body for my own. I needn’t endure your insolence any longer.”
“And you would face Kallias across the Craggs. You failed once before–” His words cut off as Deimos yanked him back, tipping his chair onto two legs.
“Sunspear will surrender.”
Tallon laughed in his face. Brazen. “No, he won’t.”
I pressed my knee against Egath, seeking shelter from the sad excuse of a man beside me. He was so reckless, taunting the king while his teeth were poised at his throat.
