Page 72 of Fate of the Sun King

Nadir is still talking to the same woman, his gaze focused on her, and I grind my teeth so hard I swear the enamel begins to shear away.

I circle the large table, and thankfully, it doesn’t take long before a very handsome and very tall High Fae male intercepts me.

“Hi there,” he says, eyeing my scarf and then me. “I’m Declan. Who might you be?”

I flash him my most beaming smile, hoping I don’t look like a lunatic. I can’t say I have much experience flirting, but I’ve always managed well enough. Of course, most of the men I’ve tried to woo were confined to prison and didn’t have too many options, but I try not to let that bother me.

He really is very nice to look at, with dark blond hair and bright green eyes that sparkle in the candlelight.

“I’m Lor,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I haven’t seen you in the Fort before. Where did you come from?”

“Oh, I’m a very distant relation to the royal family. Just passing through, and Cedar insisted we stay for the night.”

He grins and then leans down. “You’re not secretly a princess, are you?”

My answering laugh is a little awkward, but I don’t think he notices. I can tell he’s teasing me, but he has no idea how close to the truth he is.

“Hmm, perhaps you’ll find out if you’re good.”

His eyes glitter at that, his gaze again falling on the scarf for the briefest moment, and this is kind of fun. Maybe I’m not so bad at this.

Everything in me resists the urge to look at Nadir, but I can’t help myself, and allow my gaze to wander for a fraction of a second before I pull it back. A swell of triumph sticks in my throat when I find him glaring at me, his eyes burning like the very fires of hell.

I immediately turn away and look up at Declan, stepping closer and placing a hand in the center of his chest. It’s firm and sculpted, and I could do a lot worse.

“Would you like to dance?” I ask, and he nods.

“Absolutely.”

He leads me to the dance floor and twirls me around. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but he manages to make it feel like I’m keeping up. I try not to look at Nadir whenever we spin around the room. I attempt to shut Nadir out because I’m actually having fun.

After a few breathless reels, Declan leads me to the edge of the dance floor.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks and then leads me to a table that puts me in direct line of sight with Nadir, who is now sitting on the other side of the room. His “friend” is leaning into him and laughing, and how long does he plan to talk to her? What could she possibly be saying that is so fucking interesting?

His gaze meets mine, and I know I’m winning. I’m just not sure what I’ve won yet. It’s a wonder every single person in the room isn’t suffocating under our seething animosity, which expands to fill every corner.

Declan returns with the promised glass of wine. He hands it to me before he pulls out a chair and sits. I cast another quick glance at Nadir and decide I’m raising the stakes so high they’ll become a black dot disappearing into the sky.

I place my glass on the table and then slide onto Declan’s lap before wrapping my scarf around the back of his neck and leaning in. He smells nice, like the forest and other green, earthy things. I feel bad. I shouldn’t be using him like this. Maybe I should stop right now before I hurt his feelings.

Shit, I’m a terrible person. I’ve let myself get carried away.

Declan grins at me, and I’m about to call this whole thing off and apologize for my behavior. I’ll blame the wine or something. It went to my head, and I’m not used to its potency. I’m from some backwater village, and I don’t know how to behave in proper society. Hopefully, he won’t become angry when he finds out he’s getting nowhere with me tonight.

But that’s when an ominous shadow looms over us like a fallen angel spreading his wings to block out the sun. Nadir’s dark eyes flash with violet and emerald, his irises simmering with bottomless rage. Declan and I go completely still, and I can’t decide if I’m afraid right now or if I’m feeling something else.

Something that is entirely inappropriate, making an ache bloom below my navel.

Should this be turning me on? Probably not.

Fuck, this is definitely turning me on.

“Get your hands off her,” Nadir says with such bone-shivering menace that Declan sits back and slowly lifts both hands off me, holding them up in surrender. Nadir then leans over, whips off the scarf hanging around Declan’s shoulders, and tosses it to the ground.

I’m too shocked to move. How dare he be angry? He’s the one who’s been flirting with everything that moves since we left Aphelion. The rational side of my brain has taken a long walk off a short cliff.