“Indeed.” Zeverin turned his focus to me. His gaze thundered into me with the oppressive weight of a towering mountain, and I clenched my jaw as I stared up at him. I had no chance of piercing his perfectly constructed glamour, but he was close enough now that I could sense the rot permeating from somewhere deep within his bones. Possibly down to his soul. His eyes lingered on my face long enough to make my skin prickle. “This threadmender of yours is exceptional, Rorik. I’ve employed many in my long life, but none have come as close to curing the blight as she has. Why, you’re practically founts of health; I can only sense the tiniest whiff of infection. Does keeping her nearby stay the malady?”
Rorik hid everything behind his placid look of disinterest, but I felt his rage surge to life down our bond. It was a roar of power, a tumultuous rush of heat that shot straight to the pit of my stomach. And while he said nothing, I swore I could hear his ire-filled threat in my ears:Don’t fucking touch her.I hated that it did weird things to my heart, stiffened my breath, and sent a tingling want threading through my muscles.
“Her life is almost spent,” Rorik said with a shrug, effectively yanking me out of our emotional connection and centering my attention back on the Ever lording over me. “She can’t mend any longer.”
“It’s a miracle she hasn’t perished already.” He made a show of circling me slowly, never taking his eyes off my body. “I do still have one threadmender employed. His name is Dermon. It would be wonderful if Edira could share her knowledge with him. Between all the festivities, of course.”
I dipped my chin and cast my gaze to the floor. Reasonable. Modest. Even a little awestruck. I could play at all these things if it meant keeping Zeverin’s gaze off my family. “I’d be delighted to meet with him.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be sure he attends tonight’s banquet.” Then he snapped his fingers in the air. “Kara.”
She was at his side in a breath. I’d almost forgotten she was there; she’d been dutifully silent for the duration of Zeverin’s antics, remaining stationed along the wall as if she were a statue meant to decorate the space.
“Yes, Lord Embergrave?” She spoke quietly without any inflection, her expression neutral as she clasped her hands before her.
“Escort the Ferngloves to their suite, then return to me.”
“Of course.” She made for the doors with Seville, and Rorik and I followed without giving Zeverin a second glance. We trailed behind Kara as she led us up a grand staircase until we reached the third floor of the manor. Attendants dressed in clean-pressed, tea-length gowns and suits moved quietly about the halls, and they didn’t bother to look up from their tasks to greet us. Kara didn’t greet them, either. She walked without speaking and finally halted before a large set of doors with brass handles and hungry flames engraved into the blackened wood. She gave them a shove, and they swung inward, revealing a private sitting area. A tufted bloodred couch with clawed feet sat before a snarling hearth, the flames licking the black stone and making the ruby veins pop. A large bay window at the back was framed by potted plants with broad burgundy leaves, and the bench was covered in jewel-toned pillows and throw blankets. A bar cart near the door was arranged with clean glassware and an array of bottles.
“There are two rooms for you to divvy up however you see fit,” Kara said as she pointed to doors on either side of the room. “You’ll have a personal set of attendants who will see to your needs while you’re here. Tonight’s feast begins at nightfall. If there’s nothing else...” She trailed off, hand still on the door as she glanced between us.
“Are the Waterstones presently occupied?” Rorik asked. He’d made his way to the drink cart and was inspecting the wares. I vaguely wondered if he possessed some sort of magic to determine whether the liquid had been tampered with.
Kara watched him carefully. “Ossanna has been conducting meetings all day with suitors. Should I let her know you’re interested?”
“No, I’ll catch her at dinner.” Rorik must’ve deemed one of the drinks safe, because he’d wrapped his long fingers around the neck of the bottle and grabbed a clean glass.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Kara’s gaze slid to Seville briefly, then me, and she left with a curt nod. Rorik waited until the door had clicked shut and her footsteps had faded before he let out a long sigh. With a heavy hand, he filled his glass and then drained it.
“Don’t wait up for me tonight.” Seville flicked her hair over her shoulder and strolled toward her brother. “I have a suitor to woo, after all.”
“Seville,” Rorik groaned as he dragged out her name. “Keep your voice down.” He pointedly glanced around the room. While there were no visible eavesdroppers, that hardly meant our conversation was safe. “Don’t be reckless.”
“Reckless is all I know how to be.” She stole the alcohol from his hand and took a swig straight from the bottle. “You needn’t worry. This is all part of the plan. I need to plant the seed that I’m interested in Zeverin’s mind and then nurture it so he’s ripe for the picking come the gala.”
He glared at her but didn’t try to reclaim his drink. “Fine. I’ll see about getting Ossanna to meet with us privately.” He folded his arms across his chest after scowling at the closed doors. “Don’t want anyone else eavesdropping.”
“Until then, I have some mingling to do.” She took another pull from the bottle of liquor before thrusting it back into Rorik’s hand. Then she sauntered toward the room on the right and placed her hand on the door. “I’m going to freshen up. Do let me know if anything exciting happens.”
“Will do,” he murmured to her back as she strolled out.
“I should do the same,” I said.
“Primping for someone in particular?” Rorik asked.
“It is a coupling fete, and we are supposed to blend in.” I offered him a sly grin. “What better way to do that than to find a partner?”
Heat flashed through Rorik’s eyes. “Gods help me, I’m going to have to tie you down just to keep you from getting in trouble.”
I smirked. “I don’t think that would have the effect you’d want.”
He stalked toward me, and his magic flared outward from his body to rub against my skin. Static swelled like lightning about to strike. And damn if it didn’t excite me, if I didn’t want to tilt my head upward so I could watch the clouds break and soak in the downpour that followed.
“Is that what you want? To be bound?” Power hummed from deep within him, and it ignited our bond with brilliant clarity. Still, I wasn’t fast enough to react to it, to try to stop him from making a move. Deep down, I wasn’t sure I would have, anyway. Smooth vines sprouted from the nearby plants and wrapped my ankles, and two more slithered up my torso to lightly drape around my arms.
Desire roared to life within me. I wanted him to restrain me. I wanted him to explore me for hours, to bring me to the edge over and over again before finally giving in to release with me. But as tantalizing as those thoughts were, I refused to let him know they existed. If he was going to toy with my emotions with that kiss of his, then I could do the same.
Leaning into the vines’ hold, I bit my lower lip and held his gaze. “See what I mean?”
