Baz breathed deeply and slowly, when he wanted to snatch Cosette from the air, crush her stupid buzzing wings to dust in his fist, and hurl the tiny pest into a pocket of Mauldrene’s shadows.
When Zi, Ed, and Night stepped closer, he knew his subtlety wasn’t subtle enough.
His viper fucking undid him, dammit! Junot rebirthed him nearly four centuries ago. Baz’s emotions had ridden him hard and without compassion for his first few decades as a sänglure, when he’d had to adjust to his new, unnatural impulses. But since he’d learned restraint, he’d worked to conceal his every weakness from his sire.
When it came to his prisoner in the dungeons, that hard-earned restraint fucked right off. What was it about her that bypassed all his defenses? Why did he even fucking care?
He’d been tormenting himself with these and similar questions since he fought to keep her alive immediately after she’d done her damnedest to kill him.
She was the enemy.
The enemy!
But she was … his enemy.
She was his.
Cosette’s indecision drew out much too long as she cleared her throat and scratched her upturned nose, looking back and forth from Baz to Junot. For an investigatory soldier, she had the finesse of a bludgeoning mace.
Baz snorted haughtily. Zi, Ed, and Night stepped back to join Moncho and Félix.
“That, Father,” Baz said, leaning into theatrics that felt as brittle as his composure, “is Cosette Darling. She’s an investigatory soldier of your Blue Band.”
Cosette’s tiny shoulders pulled back, and she hitched her chin upward.
“And if you invite her to tell you about her duties in service of the empire, she’ll gab your ear off.”
“That’s for sure,” Moncho muttered. “She won’t shut up.”
Baz added, “She’s quite proud to do her part in keeping the dominion for you.”
Junot regarded her. Her cheeks flushed. Her mouth opened.
“What is she doing here?” Junot asked.
At the indirect address, Cosette’s eager smile faltered.
The nobles had already lost interest, once more regarding the shadows with open suspicion, a pair of the women clasping their arms across their waists in an attempt to preserve warmth that would prove futile.
“She’s an informant, come to deliver information she believed I’d find useful.”
Junot’s stare was sharp upon him. Whatever the cause for his diminished physical stature, it wasn’t affecting his mind.
“And did it prove useful?”
“To a degree.”
Cosette snorted, probably thinking something along the lines of what Baz was: to an enormous, mind-blowing, life-altering degree.
Junot shot the parvnit a lowered brow look; his crown slid ever so slightly. “You have something you wish to say, soldier?”
Cosette didn’t bother flicking a glance Baz’s way this time, which meant she’d likely decided it was better to ingratiate herself with the crown of the empire rather than its sword.
“Yes, Your Dominance.” Her wings flitted a bit erratically. “I-it’s such an honor to meet you. I’ve hoped to meet Your Dominance since I first joined the Blue Band, but it seemed like such a dream. And now here I am.”
She beamed.
Junot’s features were loose with ennui, yet he extended his hand to her.
