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“That… didn’t quite work out.”
Great.I inwardly groaned.
So, I got suckered into dancing with the oaf. I faked a coy smile but wished for someone to save me.Anyone. If this man came to call in Geva, or made too much of a fuss, I feared my identity would be borne. If nothing else, my family would find out I was using a false name and question me about it. Only Ativan and Leisa knew about my phony identity and helped cover for me. I had told Ativan a concocted story about Count Hastings being interested in me and that I felt terrifying vibes from him. An angry Ativan vowed to ensure Hastings was kept in check. Hastings was vile enough that having Ativan on alert to the Demora royal was not a terrible thing.
As soon as the dance was over, I turned away from Sir Rivierre, but his hands held me firm.
“Sir, if you’ll excuse me.”
“I wish for another dan—”
But the bump of bodies pushed against us, and soon I was out of his arms. Not wanting to waste my luck, I stumbled to get away, and another pair of hands gripped me. Strong hands circled my waist, stronger than any of the other hands that had held me this night. My heart skipped a beat, and my core tightened. I liked the way they felt, one hand was on my lower back, and the other was on my hip.
Oren. It had to be. All the other men didn’t have the muscles of this man.
Slowly, I lifted my face to the tall figure who held me and startled as I stared into a wolf mask. It was a little terrifying and covered most of the man’s face, but his chin was exposed and on it, I discovered the slash of a scar. Afamiliarscar. My eyes then dipped to his neck, but the collar of his shirt was too high for me to see any scars there. Probably purposefully so. My eyes lifted again, and his sensual mouth tilted into an infuriating smirk—one side of his mouth just higher than the other.
My heart, which had nearly stopped beating, gave one horrible thud, and beat at a tempo I didn’t think was possible. Like a hummingbird’s wings. It felt like it might take flight with excitement and fear. I tried to tell myself it was mostly fear.
“What areyoudoing here?” I hissed between clenched teeth.
“Enjoying a dance,” he drawled, exaggerating that sexy accent.
“My ass.”
“It is quite lovely, but I'm not even touching it.”
I growled in frustration and watched his eyes flicker to my hair—to the ribbon I’d imagine he recognized. Then his blue-gray eyes drifted down my neck, over my displayed chest, and across my flowing dress. The look sent heat to my cheeks and down my belly. His smirk returned, but his eyes held a fire that terrified me. I had no idea if it was a look of death or desire—possibly a combination of the two that I found disturbingly stimulating.
My heart might burst from my chest. “Sahlyn, seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Your life is in danger. She knows you're alive. We are both dead.” He said it plainly, without pity, without emotion, without the need for reassurances. My heart sped with fear but I had a feeling if he wished me dead, I would already be so. I had a dagger strapped to my thigh for emergency purposes, but it would be damn difficult to grab under this dress. I calmed myself, even though I wanted to panic. He’d said we were both dead, not just me. So he didn’t plan on killing me. Not yet anyway. Until it came down to his life or mine.
“What are we going to do then, Sahlyn? We have a deal, you and I.”
His intense look filled me with something I didn't understand. I realized we must figure out a way out of this and it had to do with ending the contract or tricking the queen. Our survival might just be pushed off instead of protected; for I felt that if she wanted us dead, eventually we would be so. No matter what.
“My advisor… He… There is something… It's a foolhardy plan, but it might be the only one we’ve got.”
“It’s probably better than this party.”
He laughed, the sound smooth as silk, and I realized I’d missed his laugh. Not that I’d heard it often when we’d been in each other’s company in the north. He'd been stoic, sarcastic, or companionably pleasant but we'd been too tense around each other for anything else. Between the deal, the queen, his injuries, and my need to get the weapons delivered, to be anything more than a means to an end for the other had been impossible. There’d been only a small amount of banter between us that ever resulted in laughter. Yet he had grown on me in those days we’d spent together; more than most people ever did.
Now unless we worked together we could both lose our lives. I hated to admit I was probably more likely to die. Sahlyn could easily just say fuck our deal and kill me since the queen was far more powerful than I. She was certainly a better side to be on.
“Does she know we made a deal?”
“No. I told her you saved my life. I hoped she would see reason with that but… She proved to me that when someone opposes her they do not live to tell the tale.”
There was sorrow that cascaded across his eyes and I wondered what this man had been through since last we saw each other. What had the queen done to change his fealty? Perhaps it was many things stacked up and he'd finally snapped. Maybe he still planned to kill me. I should feel fear, but as we slowly drifted to the exit, I only felt anticipation.
What in the Beyond was wrong with me?
Lady Blanche
“You have defied me, Huntsman.”
“I haven’t, my queen.”
