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Cerridwen’s brow shot up. “Are you?” she asked.
“No,” I replied quickly. “I’m not interested in anyone touching me. I just want to break this damn curse, find my mother, and go someplace safe.”
Cerridwen blew out a breath and smiled, seeming oddly relieved. “The safest place is probably at Carnon’s side,” she said, linking arms with me and guiding me toward the drinks. Herne and Carnon had moved away and were speaking in low voices by a huge fireplace. She handed me a flute of something sparkling and clear, clinking her glass against mine. “I’m guessing he was being an ass?”
I sighed in frustration. “He wasn’t really,” I confessed, glancing up at him at the same time he glanced at me. He looked away first, turning to Brigid, who had just joined them. “He told me that he had a…history with Scathanna, and I got jealous.”
Cerridwen raised her brows, taking a sip from her glass. “Well,” she said slowly, chewing over her words, “hedidhave a history with her. But it’s truly ancient now.”
“That’s what he said,” I replied darkly. “I don’t know what came over me. I just wanted to make him angry.”
Cerridwen gave me a knowing smile. “That’s perfectly normal,” she said, guiding me away from the drinks when she saw Tyr approaching us. “Possessiveness is common, as is jealousy.”
“Common with what?” I asked, frowning. There was no way wanting your fake betrothed to be jealous was normal, and Cerridwen pursed her lips.
“Ah,” she said. “Relationships. You were together, and now you’re…not?” she asked. I nodded in confirmation. “It’s no wonder there are some confusing and unresolved feelings, especially when you’re forced to be near him all the time.”
“Unresolved is a mild way of putting it,” I said, remembering the demanding heat that had roared through me on the balcony. “Were you and Herne fighting just now?”
“Oh,” Cerridwen blew out an aggravated breath. “Yes. Just giving him grief for the stunt he pulled with the Lords. I know you must think he’s terrible, Elara, but I swear my mate is normally the kindest, most level-headed of males.”
I raised my brows, about to argue with her assessment of her beloved, when Scathanna entered the room, the last to arrive, dressed in a gown of pure white silk. Her horns caught the candlelight, glinting sharply as she pinned me with a look of disgust.
“I see you’ve met the Spider,” Cerridwen said darkly, turning us away from Scathanna. Behind me, I heard her walk purposefully toward where Carnon was chatting with the other Lords.
“The Spider?” I asked.
“She has a thing for them,” Cerridwen said. “Commands an army of them in the Shadow Court, or so I’ve heard. That dress is probably spun from spider silk.”
“Carnon said something about spiders,” I mused, glancing over my shoulder. Her hand was on Carnon’s arm again, and something in me boiled with rage, the shadowy death magic uncoiling and begging to be used, even though I had already burned through most of it today.
“She uses them to spy and collect information,” Cerridwen added, following my gaze and frowning. “Don’t trust her. Be on your guard around her, and if you see any spiders,” she paused, giving Scathanna an icy look, “squish them.”
“What did she do to Carnon?” I asked, feeling a stab of jealousy tinged with panic at the thought of her hurting him.
Cerridwen shook her head. “That’s his story to tell,” she said. “Come on, let’s sit. I’m starving.”
The other Lords and Carnon had made their way to the table already, and I frowned at the little gilded place card that declared I would sit between Carnon at the head of the table and Tyr to my left. To my horror, Scathanna was assigned to Carnon’s right, brushing a hand over his shoulder as she sat gracefully. Brigid and Cerridwen sat opposite each other, and Herne took a place between Scathanna and his mate.
“Eat,” Carnon said without ceremony, picking up the platter of roast beef and serving me before himself. Cerridwen and Herne exchanged a glance at this, but they followed his lead and began to pile food on their own plates.
Carnon reached forward to brush a lock of my hair that had escaped my usual braid back behind my ear. I looked up, swallowing at his heated expression. His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.
“So Tyr,” Carnon said, looking past me to the Lord of Blood. “Tell Lady Elara of the wonders of the Court of Blood.”
I narrowed my eyes at Carnon, wondering what he was up to.
“Is it a place then?” I asked, looking between the Lords.
“The Courts are both symbolic and physical,” Tyr said, smiling at me with a gleam in his dark eyes. I practically felt him staring at my pulse point as I swallowed. “We manage certain territories, as well as our subgroups of demons. The Court of Blood is north of Oneiros, deeper in the mountains.”
“And the other courts?” I asked, interested in learning more of the geography of the territory. I felt a hand skate over my knee beneath one of the slits of the dress, and I looked sharply at Carnon. He smiled innocently.
“The Court of Beasts is to the east, just past the mountain range,” Cerridwen said, speaking for Herne. “We have a home there as well.”
“I hold court in the Temple of Cernunnos,” Herne added, his deep voice rumbling across the table. “We are the closest to the Horned God.” Scathanna rolled her eyes at this pronouncement, and I presumed this must be a long debated conflict.
“The Sun Court is northeast,” added Brigid, smiling warmly at me. “Near the coast.”
