Page 61 of The Reaping Rose

“I’m surprised you made it to dinner looking at each other like that.” Letia smiles, her gaze bouncing between me and Wilder, who has found his way to Rior and Atlas.

“Be glad for your untrained senses.” Greer’s nose wrinkles as she takes a sip of her wine. “Then you’d be even more surprised.”

Letia’s eyebrows pinch while my cheeks flush with heat.

“You’re on better terms, I see?” Letia asks hopefully.

“I thought about what you said, and we talked.”

“Talked? Good Gods, Elorie,” Greer grumbles, and Letia chuckles. “Bed the male already before this heat between you two drives the rest of us mad.”

My eyes find Wilder’s across the room, and once more, his are already on me.

“Has Callum mentioned any progress in his research?” I change the subject.

Greer huffs a laugh, not missing how I dodge her comment but letting it go. “Nothing yet, and I can’t sit still any longer. I heard a few might be heading out tomorrow to coordinate the ships moving out of Tael; I might join them.”

“Itching for a fight?”

“Something like that.” Greer’s shoulders stiffen.

She’s been in the training ring day in and out since we arrived, and I sense it’s to keep her thoughts at bay.

“I didn’t realize you were coordinating with Wilder’s court.”

“It’s better than throwing swords at posts.” She shrugs.

Her gray eyes move to Wilder, Rior, and Atlas, distrust heavy in her gaze. When Rior glances over, his expression is more of the same. He doesn’t trust us any more than Greer trusts them, but they’re trying for Wilder’s and my sakes.

The crowd parts as Aurora walks through. Two silver feathers wind around her shoulders, curving over her breasts like they were molded to them. They’re all that cover the top half of her body, while a pale-green silk skirt ties to a notch at the tip of the feather, dipping just above her belly button. It flows down over her hips, pooling at her feet.

She pauses to tell Wilder something, while he continues to watch me. When she’s done, the three males nod, and then Rior follows Aurora out of the room.

I hate that my temples throb and my chest constricts every time she’s near him. The female playing consort to my mate, even if he’s yet to claim his crown.

Wilder’s eyebrows pinch, and I realize that jealousy must have slithered down the thread, so I clamp it off.

“She’s difficult, but she’s smarter than most generals I’ve met,” Greer says, watching Aurora go.

Letia’s eyes narrow. “I don’t trust her.”

I hum, not sure if I do either. But Wilder does, and so I have no choice but to grant her grace so long as he continues to do the same with my people.

“Could I bargain for a dance?” Thomas cuts between me and Letia, his eyes bright as they scan her over.

He’s been pursuing her endlessly, but even as she nods politely and places her hand in his, there’s sadness stirring in her blue eyes. She glances at me as he leads her away. But I don’t sense it’s for Benjamin. There’s something else bothering her.

Greer spots fresh bottles of wine being carted into the room and tips her chin. “I’m getting a refill.”

She crosses the room while I stay and watch. At some point, Seren must have slipped off as well, because I’m alone. And I notice Perame has also abandoned her group.

While no one approaches me, the opposite is true for Wilder. He’s pulled in every direction with his court moving around him. Some Fae I recognize, others I don’t. It’s the opposite of the Ley Court when he was the outcast.

Here, there’s not a moment he’s alone, and he plays that role well. His confidence is easy. His smile warm. He’s nothing like the male I stood beside at Selia’s grieving pillar today. For them, he wears a mask, hiding his grief.

Atlas splits off from Wilder at some point, surprising me as he snags a fresh glass of wine off the table to my right. He pauses, facing the room as he draws the cup to his lips.

“It’s a little overwhelming, but you’ll get used to it.” He takes another sip. “Although, I suppose you might be already.”