Page 86 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

Silas clears his throat. “These rooms will be more than adequate. Thank you.”

I press my lips together and move to join the rest of the group, ignoring the way my heart flutters when Rian keeps step with me once more.

Jason stands in the middle of the hall between four open doors.

“Excellent.” He claps once, wearing a practiced smile. “I will send servants with appropriate attire within the hour. Until then, please refresh yourselves and relax. Dinner this evening will be quite the affair.”

The mayor’s son bows low, then strides past us and disappears from sight.

My forehead furrows. He’s going to give us clothes?

What game is the mayor playing?

Or maybe this isn’t a game, and I’m just so jaded that I can’t trust any kindness anymore.

I let out a sigh and turn.

Darius and Draven have already vanished into separate rooms, doors closed behind them. Silas steps over the threshold of the third, offering me one last reassuring glance before disappearing inside.

A strong arm shoots out in front of me.

I flinch.

Rian arches a brow then flicks his gaze toward the only door still open, the one he’s motioning to. “After you.”

My pulse spikes. I glance at the empty doorway, back at him, then over my shoulder just as Silas’s door shuts.

“Sometime today, Elara.”

His voice is low and close. Too close.

I hurry inside.

Plush carpet swallows my steps, and I stop short, breath catching as the room opens around me.

An enormous bed dominates the space, four times the size of the narrow one I left behind in Verdanthia. A pale-blue duvet spills over the sides. Pillows are piled high against an intricately carved wooden headboard.

Across the room, a floor-to-ceiling window stands open, leading to a narrow balcony. White and blue curtains billow in the sea breeze, carrying the cry of seagulls and the sharp scent of salty air.

My gaze drifts over pale wood furnishings, silver handles gleaming against smooth surfaces. A white bathing tub rests before an unlit hearth, and behind it, a door hangs ajar, revealing glossy blue-and-white tile.

A bathing closet?

Click.

I spin around and gasp. “What are you doing?”

Rian leans against the door, arms crossed. “Giving us privacy.”

“I don’t want privacy.”

His lips curl.

The tension that lingers between us draws taut. I drop my gaze to the floor. I can’t endure seeing one of his rare smiles. I’ll crack.

Gods… What is wrong with me?

Rian murdered two men without blinking an eye today—proof that the prince is the heartless killer the stories say he is.