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Introducing Areanel to Verdugo, Rymedur saw the subtle shake of Caius’s head, telling him to calm down. ‘Of course. Mr Verdugo, this is Nelly. One of my favourites,’ Caius stated. Pulling her impossibly close and out of Rymedur’s hold, he gently laid a kiss on her temple.

It was for show, Rymedur kept telling himself.

But he felt her discomfort at the nickname. She had gone stiff, her joints locking up. Even now, when he said it with such adoration, Areanel’s body seemed to oscillate between melting into him and turning as rigid as a corpse.

Rymedur had kept one hand on her as a reassuring weight, but he wasn’t sure if it was for her or himself. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was safe. But even though her sultry expression remained intact, he could tell the name had triggered something deep within. She was uncomfortable.

Rymedur moved his thumb in small circles along the small of her back, calming her nerves, and she slowly relaxed beneath his warm touch.

‘Why, hello, Nelly.’ The name curled around Verdugo’s tongue like a flame, and the sound grated on every nerve in Rymedur’s body. One of his goons passed him an ornate goblet dotted with small rubies. ‘A pleasure to meet a favourite. You know the rules, Jamison. You can’t enter without indulging in a drink. It’s tradition. And you know I’m a stickler for traditions.’

Verdugo passed the goblet to Caius, who took it without hesitation. Taking a large gulp, he handed it back. ‘Ah, ah, ah. All of you.’ Verdugo wagged his finger at the three of them and placed the goblet in Areanel’s hands.

Rymedur didn’t care about Caius, but what if the drink had some sort of hallucinogenic herbs in it? Areanel glanced between the goblet and Verdugo, and Rymedur could feel her suspicions spiralling as the mogul seemingly waited for her to take a drink.

Areanel gingerly took a small sip of the liquid. Rymedur could smell the sweet scent, like honey and strawberries, with hints of ginger, thyme and cardamom. When Areanel was about to pull the goblet away from her lips, Verdugo used his index finger to push it back to her mouth. ‘That’s not nearly enough, darling Nelly.’ The action forced her to take large gulps of the wine, and Rymedur watched, helpless, as her eyes glossed over almost instantly, feet teetering to the side as every inch of her skin flushed with a rosy pink.

Suddenly, Rymedur was moving. He hadn’t even thought when he reached for the goblet. Wrenching it away from her lips, he snatched the goblet from the mogul’s grasp.

Why hadn’t Caius warned them?

Rymedur took the goblet and downed the last of the wine. It seared down his throat, and he was met with a sudden euphoric sensation that felt like lightning in his veins. No wonder she had been affected so quickly; the wine was intoxicating. Addictive. Shoving the now-empty goblet into one of Verdugo’s goons’ chests, Rymedur glared at the older man.

His actions had drawn Verdugo’s attention—but Rymedur hadn’t been able to help it. He couldn’t stand by and watch as the mogul took advantage.

If he remembered him, then so be it!

But Verdugo’s smile simply stretched impossibly, and he gave a deep, flourishing bow, one hand at his waist and the other extending his cane behind him to the hall. Rymedur was in the clear for now.

A sudden wave of relief washed over Rymedur, and his shoulders fell; he was finally able to breathe as they entered the establishment. Though the wild, wide eyes following Areanel made that relief feel short-lived. The hungry glimmer behind Verdugo’s eyes, as he said, ‘Please indulge in your deepest desires,’ had Rymedur believing that the mogul held all the cards.

Their chance of catching the chieftain may not be as easy as they had thought.

Chapter 44

Areanel

Red lighting flooded the large space; a throng of revellers crowded the tables in the two-story opulent gambling hall—The Zenith. This hadn’t been at all what Areanel was expecting. When Ryyen said the gambling hall was located in the lower part of the city, she had anticipated a shabby tavern at best, not this lavish, luxurious establishment!

Areanel followed as Caius led them to the far side of the hall, passing red velvet poker tables. Servers in red moved about the tables, offering drinks while dressed in little to nothing; a swatch of fabric held together by a single golden chain at their waists barely covered their most private areas. Areanel was glad for the dress she was wearing; it covered far more than their clothing did.

Caius stopped at the bar at the back of the hall, located near the staircase leading to the second floor. ‘This is a good place to watch.’

He leaned forward to speak over the ruckus of the revellers mixed with the loud music, his breath fanning across the side of her face as he whispered in her ear. Rymedur stopped at her side, his hand warm and steady against her cold skin, never moving from where it rested low on her back.

Turning to the barkeep, Caius held up three fingers. ‘The usual.’ The barkeep—a gangly-looking female with too-large eyes and limbs that didn’t quite fit her body—lingered for a moment too long. A look passed between them that Areanel couldn’t decipher, but she finally nodded and left to make the drinks. Caius leaned against the bar, keeping an eye on the barkeep as she did so.

Should they really be indulging in alcohol? Areanel wanted them to remain focused on the mission, hoping to get in and out as quickly as possible.

‘You come here often, then?’ Areanel questioned, subtly assessing their surroundings, noting how the revellers indulged in all manner of debauchery. The rhythmic circles Rymedur made with his thumb along her spine were calming, grounding.

There was only one reason why Caius would come to a place like this. Why anyone would. And that thought had something putrid and sharp stinging the back of her throat.

Why did her chest tighten at the thought? It was part of his job as a spy: to gather information, and this establishment was a treasure trove if she ever saw one. So, why did green envy curl around her mind?

Tongue flicking out to lick at her dry lips, Areanel tried to calm the storm building beneath her skin. Whatever was in that wine Verdugo gave her must have been strong. Her heart beat in a rapid gallop.

She tried to distract herself, and, looking around, she noticed a nearby seating area where men and women were enjoying the sensual music emanating from the raised platform in the corner. Scantily-dressed dancers performed in gilded cages, strewn like art to be admired. Yet, when eyes turned their way, admiring the two men by her side, that green-eyed monster wormed its way into her mind and emerged with full force, and Areanel found herself glaring back at all.