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I retrieved my hand quickly, fighting the urge to wipe it on my skirt.
“You’re late,” I said.
The dinner had started at least half an hour ago, if not more.
“So are you,” he countered.
“You’re the guest of honor,” I pointed out. “Being late to your own event is poor form.”
“Without me, there wouldn’t be an event, so it doesn’t matter.”
I bristled at his arrogance.
Erol glared at me, and I glared right back. I’d been nervous to see him again, remembering the torture and pain he’d put us through while we’d been prisoners in Falx’s dungeon. Erol ruled by fear, the Conjurite magic doing most of the dirty work, but even when he hadn’t used magic, he’d done things that caused those around him to fear.
When I thought back to Erol, when I heard his name, that was what I thought about—the man who’d captured us and treated us poorly, the man who’d done Falx’s bidding no matter what the cost.
Now that I faced him and glared at him, we were on equal footing. He was a guest here in the palace, and so was I. He wasn’t anyone’s right-hand man, and I wasn’t a prisoner. The concept was liberating, and the fear subsided completely, determination following in its wake.
I knew who I was—I might not have known my direction, but I knew my allegiance, and I knew where my roots were. I was deeply grounded in light.
Erol wasn’t.
His face was hard, his jaw set. Thick eyebrows overshadowed his deep eyes, and his high cheekbones made him look as regal as he was now that he ruled Palgia on behalf of Rainier.
Conjurite magic rose all around us, dimming the last of the natural light that came from the windows. Fear followed on its heels, but it wasn’t my fear. It was the Conjurite magic, and I didn’t have to own it.
I flared my own magic to remind Erol where he was and who he was dealing with.
“What are you going to do, Hazel?” Erol asked. His voice was silky smooth, a deep growl at the back of his throat. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were challenging me.”
“I’m just reminding you who you are.Whereyou are. I’m not your prisoner anymore. There isn’t a single hexed stone within these walls that will take away my power.”
Erol laughed mirthlessly. “So, you want to dance, huh?”
He took a step closer to me, and with it came a wave of his magic. My power rose to meet it, and for a second, it looked like we were going to come to supernatural blows.
Erol was so close to me, I could see the small scar under his right eye, the stubble on his chin. His eyes were drowning deep, and the determination riddled his face. He stared down at me, and he was so close, a sigh would push us together.
His eyes flitted to my mouth, and the atmosphere changed. I was suddenly achingly aware of how close he was to me, of the warmth radiating from his skin, the depth of his eyes that drew me in.
I swallowed hard. Erol wasn’t an enemy anymore. He hadn’t been for some time, but now, standing this close to him, his bulk, his raw power wasattractive.
I swallowed hard, and I couldn’t stop myself—I looked at his lips, too. They were full and kissable, and just imagining how his lips would feel on my skin...
I snapped my eyes back to his. What was wrong with me? He was a monster, he didn’t deserve any kindness, and Icouldn’tbe attracted to him.
Except I was.
My breath caught in my throat.
“I don’t think this is—” I cut myself off when I became aware of something out of place in the darkness that surrounded him. Beneath the darkness, beneath the power that rolled off Erol’s skin, there was something more. Something…light.
I frowned.
“What?” he asked in a gravelly voice.
“Nothing,” I said and took a step back, breaking the tension between us. “They’re waiting for us.”
