Page 91 of Captive of Secrets and Storms

I huff a quiet laugh and shake my head.

Before I can stop myself, my gaze slides to the far end of the table.

To Rian.

Why Darius and I were separated from the rest of our party, I don’t know. Just as I don’t know what lie the mayor and his wife spun to earn the approving smiles and admiring looks now directed at Rian, Silas, and Draven.

The three Fae eat and drink with the guests seated at the table placed perpendicular to the long one where the rest of us sit. Augustus and Helen occupy the center. Jason and his bride sit to their left. The Fae are on their right with Virendrellians interspersed between them.

On cue, the woman seated beside Rian laughs at something the Shadow Prince says.

She’s beautiful. Half of her auburn hair is piled high on her head. The remaining curls fall over her exposed shoulders, making me wish I had objected when Thea suggested I pin all of my blonde strands up. She claimed it would accentuate my lovely neck. I would’ve rather concealed it.

The chandelier’s candlelight catches the woman’s smile as she leans closer to Rian.

What could he possibly have said to earn that reaction? Rian isn’t funny.

A muffled voice rises near me, but I don’t look away. I can’t.

The woman’s hand comes to rest on Rian’s forearm, near his bracelets.

The markings on my arms bristle.

A throat clears.

I tear my gaze away and meet the expectant look of the blond man beside me.

“I apologize.” I swallow. “Did you say something?”

His expression remains open, pleasant. “I asked how you are enjoying Virendrell, Miss…?”

“Elara.” My pulse spikes, but I tell myself to relax.

There is no harm in revealing my true name. No one knows me here.

“And you are?” I prompt.

“Anders.” He leans back slightly and offers his hand across the small space between us.

I tilt my head and place my fingers in his palm, then suck in a sharp breath when he bends and presses a kiss to my knuckles.

His gaze drifts over my forearm.

I freeze.

Curses.

Did Rian remember to glamour the markings?

“Your bracelets are lovely,” Anders says.

Relief loosens my muscles. “Thank you.”

“No betrothal circlet, I see.” His eyes flick toward Darius.

A quick glance reveals that the Fae is engaged in conversation with the elegant brunette at his other side.

I tug my hand. Anders releases it easily.