She bumped her shoulder against his upper arm. He hissed before he could rein in his reaction.
Sharp eyes that noticed much too much swept the length of his body. “What is it?”
His arm was a block of solid flame, and when she’d hit him, she’d doused the fire in accelerant.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
More gasps surged from the onlookers, while Night and Ed drew closer. Ed cracked her knuckles, then her neck.
Velle flicked a look at them before squeezing his arm. He sucked through his teeth. She pushed onto her tiptoes and spoke straight into his ear, her veil soft as feathers, inflaming his already sensitive skin.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on with you right this second or I’ll kiss you here in front of everyone. Then you’ll have to figure out how to explain why you’re kissing a princess of Orania, of all places.”
When his only reaction was a further clenching of his every muscle, she said, “Fine. I’ll take off my veil, then. I can probably get it off even though it’s pretend, right? Then you’ll have a new set of problems to deal with.”
While she attempted to rid herself of the Rillis rope, no doubt, and make her escape.
“Seriously, Baz?” she whispered. “I can help. Let me help you.”
“Thought you wanted to kill me,” he said through gritted teeth. When Velle had spoken, it had been so quiet that no one else had heard—or no one else had reacted. But he hadn’t been able to control himself as well.
“My warrior prince,” Drake Milliand said, “are you in danger? I have my dagger.”
And what did he think he would do with said dagger? Pose with it?
Ed, Night, Zi, and Félix consolidated into a tight circle around him and Velle, cutting off the nobles.
“Your intervention is not needed, Drake. Stand down,” Zi said, her eyes narrowed on Baz and Velle. “Get away from him,” Zi next said to Velle.
“No.”
“No? No isn’t an option.”
“Then you should expand your options.”
Zi scoffed. “Fuck off.”
“No.”
Zi snarled. Velle hissed. Zi lunged for her; Velle jabbed her in the throat. Zi bent over herself, coughing and clasping her neck. The nobles probably came in their pants or skirts at the show the two of them were putting on.
“Give me…” Baz started but had to clamp his lips against the pain. It was as if his flesh were being burned to the bone with him still alive!
Velle’s hands covered his, which this time had Ed lunging for her. But Velle’s touch was gentle, and Ed stopped.
Velle faced her back to the others, erecting a wall between the two of them and the rest of the world. “Let go, Baz. The handles are hurting you.”
He managed to shake his head. The rings in his hair clinked faintly together. “It’s not them.”
“Still, let go. Let’s get you to relax.”
Baz was using every bit of his resolve to keep the ghost inside him. She couldn’t come back out. They never came back out—they weren’t supposed to. But containing the specter when she wanted out was like holding back a sneeze. He’d passed the point of return. His body was barreling forward, ready for release.
“I…” he uttered.
“You what, Baz?” Velle’s voice was that of a friend. It had to be a ploy, didn’t it? Velle made no secret of wanting to hurt him. She wasn’t his friend. Wasn’t his … well, she couldn’t be his anything—only his enemy.
“I-I…” Agony blazed through his arm and his shoulder, spreading into his back. Was this what his Arabella and wee Carina had suffered when he’d burned them on a pyre?
