Page 104 of Nocturn

I clenched the panel of my dress. Another dawnlight came and left; the third consecutive request. Cassiel refused to see me.

Or was it Drusilla?

His handler.

My fingernails bit into my thighs as the officer retreated. I stood and began pacing the fire-lit parlor. He had not come to visit me in the feeder wing. Not once.

My heart pinched.

I had turned the reality of being his bondmate over and over, but I could not fully focus on it. Not until I saw him. I returned to my chamber and almost bumped into Branwen as she was leaving, dressed in a thick blue cloak with fur at the hood.

Branwen stepped back, eyes wide.

“Branwen?”

“Amara,” she croaked and nervously tucked a curl back under the hood. She shuffled from one foot to the other and continued avoiding my gaze.

“Where are you off to so late . . .” Blood fled my cheeks. I did not need her to tell me. “To see Lord Draven,” I said, not feeling my lips.

“He requested a visitation tonight,” she whispered. “For a feeding.”

The vision of him and Branwen tangled over fur sliced through my thoughts. Was this a pointed slight?

A flash of his hands on her, caressing, touching her, and tightening until the snap of bones. I ground my teeth together.

“Let me take your place.” She pursed her lips, blinking. “Please,” I begged, approaching to take hold of the outside of her arms. She chewed on her lower lip.

“A carriage awaits me outside the Grand Hall,” she said, reaching for the button clasping the cloak at her chest. “An officer will meet you outside this door and escort you to it.” She shrugged the robe off and swung it over my shoulders. I took over and buttoned it. “Keep the hood covering your face.” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“This will not affect you,” I promised, squeezing her hands briefly. If I must lie and state I had stolen the cloak, then I would.

“Do you . . . like him?” she asked.

“I might,” I whispered, lying, knowing full well I was infatuated with the King of Sycarious.

Her concern did not fade, but she did not stop me from retreating. I kept tucking the fur of the cloak closer to my cheeks while slowing my pace to make my limp less obvious. When I settled my weight on my injured leg, I popped my hip out a bit more to roll into the next step. It took a lot more effort and I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.

Fortunately, with the moonlight out and most slumbering, there wouldn’t be many eyes.

Just as she stated, a different officer stood waiting in the middle of the hall. I passed the other officer posted near the door. Since I kept my head down, I was only able to see his trousers and boots. I inclined my head.

“Lady Branwen,” he murmured and began down the hall.

He sounded familiar. I waited until he was a healthy distance away and lifted my head a bit more.

It was Egan. I kept pace.

Cassiel had requested a feeder.

I gritted my teeth, stewing in anger. We reached the foyer before the Grand Hall.

“Have you made progress with your embroidery?” Egan asked, a soft, polite tone to his voice.

I grunted an affirmative.

He hesitated and came to a stop so fast that I stumbled to a halt a pace before slamming into him.

“Lady Branwen?” He turned, suspicion in his voice.