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…her mother…poisoned by her lord father’s madness…
How the king still allows them to breathe…
…the offspring of evil. More Corrupt than her father, that one…
She grimaced. Corrupt—the scathing term given to those suffering from insidious magic infections. Granted, some shadows had chosen their fate. Then there were those that had been exposed to it against their will, cast out or cut down because of it.
Blizzard-cold magic tore through her mind, wiping it clean of the sudden, violent thoughts. Tenah bit back a frustrated snarl.You only tune in when you’re not wanted, don’t you?
Cool it. The goal is not to draw any negative attention.
Tenah diverted toward a table piled high with delicate puffs of bread dipped in chocolate. Halfway to her destination, she slowed. Prickles crept down her neck, alerting her of someone watching.
Beyond the swaying dancers, she homed in on two electric green eyes. The shadow stood predatory still against the back wall, a head taller than the other guests. His stature was intimidating, broad shoulders and corded thighs clad in dark leather and bone armor. The hilt of two swords poked up over his back as if to confirm that death would be delivered by his hands.
Brows furrowing, Tenah glanced around the library. No one else seemed alarmed by his presence. When her gaze drifted back to the menacing stranger, she no longer saw armor. He wore a tailored black suit that hugged his formidable body. Half of his long, pale wheat hair was tied back and his strong jaw cleanly shaven.
Chugging heartbeats pounded against her ribs as his head tilted sideways, almost as if in taunt, a spider luring prey into his treacherous web.
All right then. If this stranger thought he was summoning some demure, polished noblewoman, he was in for a rude awakening.
Tenah snatched a chocolate dessert off a tray and popped it into her mouth.
She stormed across the library. Forget Ames’s warning to behave.
Standing before the stranger, she had to lift her chin high to meet his intense eyes. Her brain fired panic through her nervous system. Regretfully, she inhaled his crisp pine and mountain air scent.
Elementals. Was that what the outside world smelled like?
Odd, there was a note of something bittersweet clinging to him too. A peculiar magic he wore like a second skin, one she did not recognize.
The stranger held out a scarred hand.
“Evening,” he said, his voice as deep and smooth as the chocolate still melting on her tongue. “Name’s Renton.”
Dumbfounded, Tenah stared down at his hand. Somehow, she managed to summon manners from the pit of hell where she kept them hostage and placed her hand in his calloused one. A surge of energy rippled up her arm. Cool shivers danced along her skin as his pupils dilated.
Enemy. An executioner hired by King Sardoth, most likely. Had he been the one lurking in the forest earlier?
Still holding her hand, Renton eased her closer. His next words brushed against the shell of her ear like the wings of a butterfly, doing visceral things to her stomach. “You’re awfully tense.”
“Annoying of you to notice,” she retorted, jerking out of his grip.
His brow arched. “They all watch you. Why is that?”
Heat rose in her cheeks. Was she that much of an anomaly?
Feigning disinterest, she shrugged. “I don’t know. None of them should even be here.”
“Ah.” His expression fell. “You’re Kherathi’s child.”
Tenah frowned. Why else had he been staring at her? She assessed him with a critical look. He had no western accent, and there was a wolfish edge to his posture. “You’re not from the Burning Plains.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Are you asking a question or simply stating a fact?”
She fought the urge to tell him he should try actually smiling but thought better of it when she remembered his hidden blades. This shadow wasdangerous. Had he used an illusion to hide that fact? That kind of trickery stemmed from the wretched Boglands, a foul eastern isle of treachery.
She narrowed her eyes. “Both.”
