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I can sense him behind me. Every time he moves, it sends flames down my spine.
Ever since we said those vows, it’s as though we have become two parts of the same whole.
I am... warmer inside. As though a piece of his fire now resides within my soul.
Before I can further explore this new feeling, Akron saunters into the room and slides a chair out from across the table. With a wave of his hand, the decanter of whiskey floats over to him. He grins, a frightening toothy smile, as he pours himself two fingers of whiskey and tosses them back.
I narrow my eyes at the Warlock. I know Nathaniel said that he has worked for this... Warlock, but I don't trust anyone who has free rein in my mother’s court.
He stares at us, pouring himself another dram of whiskey, before he places the cup on the table. He taps his long fingers on the table rhythmically, meeting my stare with one of his own. Eventually, he chuckles and downs his drink. I shudder.
The other male ignores me, looking past me to Nathan.
I’m relieved that his attention is off me.
A shiver runs through me, and I feel the weight of Nathan’s eyes on me as I stare at the Warlock.
I most definitelydo notlike this male.
“You’re far from the Summer Court, my boy. What did I tell you about her name?” The Warlock inclines his head towards me.
My husband winks at the Warlock. “Look at her. One glance, and I was smitten.”
My insides melt at the admission. I feel the same way, but hearing it from Nathan’s lips is something else.
The Warlock’s eyes narrow. “I hope she was worth it.”
I open my mouth to respond, but before a single word can make it out, the sound of clicking heels on the ice fills my ears. Their wearer walks slowly, methodically, down the halls, their every movement orchestrated to create fear.
I know exactly who it is.
Keep it together, Elva.
When my mother glides into the room, it takes everything in my body not to fly at her. The horror that twists my stomach when I look at her perfectly manicured nails and her designer pantsuit roils through me like an impending storm.
She dares to look this put together when she had my husband whipped just hours ago? Her audacity astounds me.
A flash of fire burns up my left arm, and I know without looking, Nathaniel is returning the favor from before.
Right. Focus. Get us out of here alive.
The second my mother stands in front of the table, two servers wearing my mother’s livery materialize out of the hallway. One of them, a petite female Fae, rushes forward and pulls out the chair at the head of the table for her. She bows profusely, her head almost touching her knees as she backs up. Her companion, a male, stands at attention against the back wall.
Tension fills the air as my mother stares at me, her eyes sharp as she seems to stare right into my soul.
I stare right back.
I don’t let her see the way I quiver inside, the way her face makes me feel terror, the fact that until a few hours ago, I felt so broken I thought I might never be put back together again.
No. She sees none of that, receiving the cool facade I have perfected over the years.
After a few moments, she blinks and lifts her right hand. Instantly, the male server fetches a champagne flute and fills it with sparkling wine, placing it in her hand. She doesn’t even look at him before her fingers curl around the flute, and she sips the wine.
Nathaniel stiffens beside me, and I will him not to say anything yet.
“I heard something interesting today, my dear,” my mother finally says. Her voice breaks the silence, somehow increasing the tension as she speaks.
“Oh?” I try to sound casual, despite my racing heart.
