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I was lost for words. Even though I wanted nothing more than to look away from him, I fought myself to hold his stare, no matter how heavy it became.“What if I don’t make it to the turn of the season?” I replied, hiding the truth of what I alluded to beneath the real threat of Claria.
Faenir did not need to know that I had only one vial of vampire blood left or why I had it.It would not change how this story reached its finale. Once the blood was gone and my sickness was freed from the prison it was kept in, I… would die.
“That,” Faenir said through a harsh breath, “is not an option.”
The grey-stoned floor vibrated beneath us as the melody continued to build with tension and beauty. I could not place the instrument that could have conjured such a sound. There was a magic laced within it, something Tithe, Darkmourn and the world away from this one would never have known possible.
I felt as though we were striking up a deal. One that I had, in truth, no choice but to agree to. Since my own parents’ demise, I had spent my days convincing myself to prolong the same fate. Every time I left the walls of Tithe in search for my poison, all I did was hold back the ticking hands of my doom’s ticking clock. Soon enough it was going to catch up with me.
Now the hands spun quickly. My fate raced towards me, and nothing would slow it down.
We stood there, each of us silently trying to read the other’s expressions and failing to grasp the thoughts we hid from one another.
“If your mind has changed about the ball then I am more than willing to take leave.” Faenir’s arms lifted, his hands reaching out but falling short before they could touch my arms.
Perhaps he expected I would have flinched.I did not.
“No.” That was what Claria would have wanted. Our presence here upset her. By leaving Nyssa we would allow her to win whatever game both Faenir and her had been locked within. A game of crowns. A game of family.
I love games.
Before Faenir could lower his hands, I reached out and took one. His mouth parted in a gentle gasp that spread across his face and melted the lines of tension once more.His touch was deadly, mine seemed to be the opposite for him.
“It is clear I do not know your politics, but I can understand that turning our back on this ball only means that the truemonsterhas won. I am not one for being a participant and allowing that to happen. So, as you have so perfectly suggested, I wish to make a deal with you too.”
Faenir’s fingers gripped ever so harder, and it sent a thrilling bolt up my spine. “It would not be wise to poke the bee’s nest, for doing so will sting,” Faenir whispered.
I wanted to ask how he had heard that saying. It was one Mother had used on me and Auriol many times, a way of warning us that playing with fire always caused hands to burn.
“Faenir,” I said, returning the grip on his hand. I was overly aware of the sodden skin and more so the fact he did not hurt me. He could not hurt me.Why? That was another mystery I added to the ever-growing list in my mind. “Do not think for a second, I wish to poke the bee’s nest. If I am going to be forced to stay here, then I will destroy it instead.”
“Arlo, you have a treacherous tongue.”
I laughed at that, smiling naturally towards him for the first time. “Oh, you could not begin to imagine.”
We entered the ballroom, hand in hand. Of course, I had not known what waited in this strange place for it was a mystery with each turn of a corridor and push of a door. The closed doors blew open without our need to do anything. Beyond them the air swelled with music. A balcony waited before us with twisting, wooden carvings that formed a barrier between it and the great drop on its other side.
Faenir guided me into the room until I could see the sweeping staircase that fell from each side of the balcony until it reached the black and white patterned floor below.We stopped at the edge of the balcony and looked down at a sea of people, and every single one of them looked at us, not a pair of eyes wasted on anything else. Even the music seemed to quiet. The air thrummed with tense intrigue.
I forced out a shuddering breath and held my head high as I stared down at the crowd. This was a symbol. Faenir displayed me beside him as though I was a jewel, and from the look of everyone beneath us they could not fathom what they saw.
Expressions morphed from shock to horror then to disbelief. Some smiled falsely, flashing teeth as though they were wolves surveying prey. It did not deter me, for I was the wolf in this story. Others gleamed upward with pure happiness. Namely Myrinn whose arm was held in the crook of her human mate.
“Faenir Evelina, and hismate,Arlo.”
I could not see who it was that announced us, nor did I think it was needed. Everyone knew Faenir because of his reputation and thus they had likely heard of me.
“I have not even asked for your full name,” Faenir murmured out the corner of his sharp lips.
“And nor will I tell you.”
He paused, swallowing audibly. “May I ask why not?”
“Names have power, Faenir. They are also earned, and you have not yet proven yourself worthy of my last name.”
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrated across my skin until the hairs upon my arms stood on end. “Then that is all well and good for those who look upon us now will soon expect you to take my last name. That is all that matters to them.”
“How disappointed they will be,” I replied, pulling away from his side and shifting towards the steps without his lead.
