Page 52 of Daughter of the Dark

“You have a sister?” Solana asked, head tilted into him, his scent clouding her mind.

“Yes,” he answered, his breath tickling her ear and reminding her of the last time they had been so close. On his bed, his body hovering over her, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up. She wondered if his chest and torso were the same. So many stories. So many loved ones. Solana imagined it was a heavy burden, that kind of love. Too heavy for the likes of her.

To even the playing field, Solana lifted onto her toes. “What does the king really want with me?” she murmured into his ear.

Reyes immediately straightened. His eyes found a spot over her shoulder and focused into a point, presumably at the man in question. The shift in his demeanor left her feeling dizzy. “I’ve already told you; he thinks you are the key to reversing the curse. He only wants your cooperation.”

“Is that why you proposed a truce? Because I wasn’t being cooperative enough?”

“Yes,” he said easily. His eyes darted to hers and away. “And no. I wanted you to stop looking at me like I was going to kill you every time I came near.”

“Feeling guilty?”

Reyes turned sharply and tugged her with him into a spin that ended with her in a slight dip, both of his hands cradling her back, their mouths close enough that all Solana would have to do was take a deep breath and they would kiss. But it felt impossible to breathe at that moment.

“No,” he said just as smoothly, pulling back the slightest to look her in the eye. “I want your trust. And I didn’t want to trick you into giving me what I wanted.”

“What do you want, Reyes?”

They stayed there, with her reclined and him hovering over her, fingers digging into flesh, tangled together like lovers in the throes of pleasure or enemies in a dance of death. His eyes swirled with hunger as they darted to her lips, and then they shuttered again.

Before she could speak, he straightened them both, putting a step of space between them that felt like an insurmountable wall. Solana felt heat rush through her and cursed herself for it.

“To reverse the curse and save our people,” Reyes said curtly.

She rolled her eyes to hide the hurt of his rejection. “What a hero. You warned me against such antics, and yet here you are, keeping it all for yourself.” Solana straightened her dress and gave him a quick smile. “I’m going to find food. I’m starving.”

And then she turned and strode away, ignoring the urge to look over her shoulder and meet the burn of his attention pinned to her back.

Mouth stuffed with ceviche, Solana watched as Reyes danced with Cora, ease in the lines of his shoulders and mouth. It made her miss the callejon, miss Sami. She wondered if he had gone home or if he was still working in that tavern, near enough to keep an eye on her like he always insisted.

If she hadn’t ignored Sami and followed Oskar and Nikolas that night, if she hadn’t killed two muki and been caught red-handed, she might still be there, hunting in the streets like a thief of the dead. Directionless and drowning under their despair.

The circumstances that had led her there may have been unconventional, but she had no regrets. Even if, in that moment, she felt more alone than ever.

The song ended, and the murmur of conversation paused to give way to applause. Solana took another bite of her ceviche and waited for the next song. Perhaps she would find Nikolas and dance with him instead. Or someone else as equally handsome and empty-minded. That was probably better, since she had to work with Nikolas for a few more months. There was no need to make things more complicated than they already were.

Mind made up, Solana turned to find an attendant to take her plate. There was no one that she could see, so she took a step forward only to pause in place. The buzz of the crowd had fallen into a hush and the people around her glanced at her warily. She looked down at her dress, just to make sure everything was in the proper place, and then a throat cleared behind her.

“May I have the next dance?”

King Killian’s voice was clear as a bell in the quiet, all eyes now on her. She stood frozen with a dirty plate in her hand, wishing she could turn and refuse. But who was she to deny a king?

An attendant slipped forward and took her plate, leaving Solana without an excuse. She turned slowly and rubbed her palms over her thighs. The king’s rings glittered on his outstretched hand. Across the room, someone coughed.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Solana finally said, placing her hand in his.

He held her at arm’s length until they were in the center of the room and the music began again, and then he twirled her into his embrace, gentle and swift. Enchanted, the crowd softly clapped and pressed the circle back.

“These are the people that would have celebrated your death. Now they see you as a protector, a savior. How does it feel to rise so high?”

King Killian’s hand settled along her back. She felt the press of his palm and shivered with distaste. “I’m not doing any of this for them,” she said honestly.

“Then for who? Your people?” He said the word with a smile, but Solana could see the contempt in his eyes before he spun her away and back. “Or for yourself?” he added. “Perhaps to atone for the sins of your father.”

Solana’s steps faltered as terror pooled in her belly and burned its way up her throat. The music and the crowd fell away until it was only the erratic beating of her heart and King Killian, smiling at her victoriously. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember you? That I wouldn’t recognize his eyes, his smile … his dagger?”

There was no answer she could give him that wouldn’t paint her in a worse light. She chose to say nothing at all, grateful for the death grip the king had on her hand so that he wouldn’t notice it shaking.