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I closed my eyes, and Rhyan was there with me, his hand on my hip, his calloused fingers brushing against my skin, untying the bow, my undergarments opening, the feel of his….
My heart hammered. Kissing Tristan, being with him like this, felt wrong in a way it never had before. Like I was betraying Rhyan.
I gripped Tristan closer and broke the kiss, feigning the need to catch my breath, a response bred from years of practice. I pressed my face against his chest, allowing myself one moment to squeeze my eyes shut before I set my gaze over his shoulder and watched the crowd of soturi and mages—all having fun, all letting loose, all dancing with the person they wanted to be with.
After another useless sweep of the festival, my eyes landed on Meera holding court deep in the crowd. She was surrounded, everyone seemingly vying for her attention, wanting to ask a question of Bamaria’s Heir Apparent.
She waved at someone and turned to answer another question, her hands clasped neatly in front of her body, stiff with tension. She looked so uncomfortable. Only years of training seemed to keep her standing tall and her head turning with regal precision.
The music slowed, and I lowered my leg to the ground as a more formal slow dance began to play. Tristan twirled me in a circle, spinning me away from him before pulling me close. I took the lead, turning our bodies so I could better see Meera.
A cold wind swept over me, brushing through my hair. I shivered, and Tristan pulled me against him. There was another gust of wind.
No. Not wind. An aura. The cold I felt, I knew far too well. Meera stiffened, her entire body tense.
Alarm bells screamed in my head.Oh, my Gods. MORGANA!
I jumped back from Tristan, but he grabbed hold of my hand.
“Lyr, you all right?”
My vision blurred. My pulse pounded, and the world spun and tilted on its side. The wine. Fuck. I shouldn’t have let Morgana get to me.
“Lyr?” Tristan squeezed my hand.
“Morgana plied me with wine—really need to pee! Dance with Galen and Hal!”
I launched myself at the stairs, nearly falling off the stage. Racing down the steps, I covered two at a time before leaping off. My boots crashed to the ground, sinking through the grass. I covered my head with my cloak, hoping I’d blend into my surroundings like a true soturion before I tore through the crowds of Lumerians dancing, kissing, and passing drinks.
I pushed into people, not giving a gryphon-shit who I hurt or offended. I had one goal—reach Meera. I was already losing precious time. Every second that passed and I wasn’t by her side, we were in greater danger.
Morgana! Help!
I broke into the circle of nobles all watching Meera and talking in that loud, obnoxiously showy way nobles did when they wanted to command more attention. It had always grated on me, but in that moment, it worked in my favor as a cousin of Lady Pavi’s preened while fake laughing.
Meera, I mouthed her name, not wanting to draw any more attention to her.
Her eyes went out of focus, and there was a slight snarl to her lip. It was starting. I had maybe a minute at best before the thrashing came, just as long as no one looked at her too closely. If they did, there would be no mistaking what was happening, or who she looked like.
Jules. She looked exactly like Jules had as her first vision came. And she looked like the dancer that Tristan himself had arrested on my birthday. She looked like the countless other mages who’d had vorakh through no fault of their own and had lost their lives because of it.
“Meera, I need to pull you away,” I said, throwing every bit of noble affect I could into my voice. I wrapped my arm around her, my hands closing around her arms and locking into place.
She immediately jolted at my touch, but my grip was vicelike. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet. Her full force of strength hadn’t activated yet, or she’d have thrown me off.
Sweat beaded at the nape of my neck despite the chill rising from her aura. The feel and sound of shattering glass was all around me.
MORGANA! Where the fuck are you? It’s Meera! Fuck! Fuck! I knew she should have stayed home tonight.
But Morgana didn’t come. I had no idea where she was. Off with Brandon or Terra or whoever. It was up to me. Only me. Meera had to be moved immediately.
In the distance, hiding behind the dark of the forest, was one of Meera’s escorts, invisible to all but me. I shook my head, waving him off—she was fine. I signaled again, warning him not to come any closer. He frowned with concern and reluctantly sank back into the shadows on my orders. I spotted her second escort a few feet away, the tip of his sword catching firelight.
Meera snarled at me, and I tightened my grip.
I started to pull her back. She struggled against my hold as the attention of the nobles surrounding us began to draw our way.
I laughed. “Sorry, I need to borrow my sister. You can have her back in a few minutes.”
