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“I’ve already arranged for it,” Roark replied.

Shock swept across Dallas’s face. “Really?”

“The seventh of Februarius.”

The sight of Dallas working to compose the childlike excitement on her face didn’t sit well with Max. That she felt the need to smother her emotions, to appear professional and composed, told him heaps about what her childhood must’ve been like.

The group clucked out another handful of introductions and empty exchanges that washed over Max like waves on a shore. He began to forget where he was, until Dallas backed up to his side.

“Dad, I’d like you to meet Maximus.”

Max extended a hand to the Red Baron. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Roark didn’t accept the gesture. He merely dipped his chin, the movement subtle, barely enough effort behind it to be deemed polite. His virulent eyes flicked to the skin below Max’s ear. “You’ve got a little something right here.” He gestured to his own neck—spotlessly shaven and unmarked.

Max slipped his hands into his pockets. “We had to get a bit creative for tonight.”

“And you think no one will recognize you?” The question sounded more like a threat.

He offered a tight smile. “Not many people have had the luxury of putting a face to the name, sir.”

Roark glanced about the room, as if bored. “I bet not.”

The rest of the group had floated away, pairing up with spouses or mingling with friends and acquaintances, leaving the three of them alone. The sudden absence of eyes picking them apart, and ears listening in, had Roark’s aura shifting, and not in a good way. Max didn’t like the way he was assessing Dallas, not a trace of his former adoration present. In fact, the way he was looking at her could pass for a grimace.

“How’s your schooling these days?” Roark asked her.

Dallas visibly swallowed, fingers twisting the fabric of her purse, as if she were wringing water from the sequins. “Good.” When her voice came out in a croak, she cleared her throat quietly. “Good, Dad, really good. I am acing all of my classes.”

Roark was frowning. “I heard you’re not doing too well in incantations.”

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Max cut in, just as Dallas said, “It was one test, Dad.”

Roark didn’t spare a glance for Max. His tone was icy as he told Dallas, “Don’t let it happen again.”

Max couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “For someone who’s expected to attend the most prestigious school in the city five days a week, and train with the Fleet for six, I’d say one failed test is pretty impressive.”

“And I’d say you’re overstepping,” Roark said coolly, pinning him with a stern look. “Stand down. This isn’t a Darkslayer house party, it’s a Fleet event, and you are interfering in my family affairs.”

“With all due respect, she’s my family now too. At least I’m around more often than you.”

Dallas’s hand fluttered to his wrist. “Why don’t we head to our seats? I think dinner is being served soon.”

Max didn’t look away from Roark, and the Red Baron didn’t look away from him either as Dallas towed him away with a sweaty hand.

“Yes, Maximus,” Roark said, the words empty of emotion. “Why don’t you head to your seats?”

Max kept his free hand in his pocket, hiding the fact that he was forming a fist, the wounds in his knuckles splitting open from how hard he was squeezing. Dallas was still clutching his wrist, pulling him toward one of the round tables near the stage.

It was by the grace of the gods that no one else was seated at their table yet, giving Max time to breathe, time to compose himself before he did something he would regret—something that would no doubt cause Dallas to forget he existed.

The witch pulled out two chairs and tugged on his arm, gesturing for him to sit. “What is it about being civil that you didn’t understand?” she hissed in his ear.

“He’s an asshole, Dal.” He threw himself onto the seat, the wooden legs nearly buckling under his weight.

She took the chair beside his and set her purse on her lap. “He’s also my father, so I would appreciate if you wouldn’t call him that.”

“Just because he’s your blood doesn’t mean he deserves you. A toxic relationship is a toxic relationship, no matter who it involves.” After everything he’d put up with as a child, he knew this better than anyone.