Page 29

‘To be honest,’ Creon muttered, sinking down in the nearest armchair to put on his socks, ‘I was mostly hoping it would calm you down.’

I huffed a laugh. ‘The first of many mistakes.’

He chuckled – a genuine chuckle with not a sliver of bloodlust below the surface. It turned out Agenor could look even more confused.

‘I think he’ll survive without the tea,’ I told Creon.

‘Probably.’ He put on his second sock and got up, grabbed his boots, and squeezed my shoulder with his free hand – such an innocent touch, and yet under my father’s disapproving glare, it turned into something heated and forbidden, sending my pulse racing no matter how hard I tried to keep it down. The wicked glint in Creon’s eyes was proof enough he knew exactly what he was doing. ‘I’ll go take a look at the Golden Court, then. Try not to tear off his limbs.’

‘That’s your area of expertise,’ I said sourly.

He sent me an amused and rather impolite gesture and nudged the door shut behind his back, leaving me alone with a vexed father, an equally vexed snake, and a room that showed just a few too many traces of the very naked, very adult activities in which we’d been engaging a mere handful of hours ago.

I plastered a patient smile onto my face and said, ‘So?’

Agenor was looking remarkably like a winged, well-dressed thundercloud trying to be polite as he sucked in another deep breath, flexed his calloused fingers, and cleared his throat. ‘So.’ The strain in his voice betrayed there were about a hundred more aggressive approaches he was actively suppressing. It clearly took all he had to instead grit his teeth and settle for abarely restrained, ‘Would you mind telling me what exactly is going on here, Em?’

‘You seem to have a rather good idea of what is going on here,’ I said with a snort. ‘And don’t you want to sit down?’

He did not give the impression he wanted to sit down but did so nonetheless, cautiously sinking into the armchair Creon had just vacated, as if he expected the wood and padding to erupt into flames any moment. Coral slithered from his shoulders, over the armrests, and onto the floor, meticulously avoiding my dirty socks and boots.

I braced myself. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘The full story would be a good start,’ he said sharply, rubbing a restless finger over his temple as it to press back a building headache. ‘All I know is that Edored suddenly stormed up to me and wanted to know if I knew whether Creon likes to play cards, because Tared …’ He closed his eyes, pronouncing every subsequent syllable with clipped, furious precision. ‘Because Tared apparently dictated Creon was to be welcomed into the family as pleasantly as possible? Which—’

A choked sound escaped me.

His eyes flew open. ‘What?’

‘Oh. No. Nothing.’ Nothing besides alves and their incomprehensible ethics, at least, and Edored and his unexpected enthusiasm were hardly a problem in the grander scheme of things right now. ‘What else do you want to know, then? I can’t think of anything in particular I’d like to add, frankly.’

‘Gods and demons, Em,’ he sputtered, dropping his hands to his armrests with a fluster that didn’t suit his dignified stature in the least. ‘Are you out of your bloody mind? I thought I made it clear enough that he’s thelastperson in the world you should be getting involved with, and—'

I shrugged. ‘You were a little late with your wisdom, I’m afraid.’

‘A little …’ He snapped his mouth shut, wings and shoulders sagging as the implications of those words registered. ‘Oh, gods have mercy. All this time?’

I shrugged again.

‘For hell’s sake,’ he said bleakly. ‘What have you beenthinking?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘have you seen what he looks like?’

The utterly appalled expression springing onto his face was worth every ounce of recklessness and then some. I chuckled despite myself, unable to help it. I was only making things worse – IknewI was – and yet there was a warped sort of triumph in allowing myself the freedom to be a brash idiot after all that time of cramped, desperate prudence.

‘This is nojoke, Em,’ he ground out.

Something in his voice sobered me up faster than even the most vigorous outburst could have done.

It was the crack of helplessness, perhaps. The almost desperate plea in his eyes and the way his fingers gripped his armrests, struggling to hold on. I had prepared for anger and indignation, for fatherly disapproval that I could defiantly ignore. For threats and demands and attempts to drag me out of Creon’s reach, no matter how hard I insisted my wishes were the opposite.

But instead, the male opposite me was doing the one thing against which I hadn't hardened my heart nearly so well: worrying.

‘Oh, fine.’ I looked away from those unnervingly troubled eyes, rubbing my face. ‘I’ll try not to treat it as one, then. What are you so concerned about, exactly?’

He let out a mirthless laugh. ‘What part of “the most dangerous individual I have known in my life” is failing to get the message across? I don’t want to see you hurt by—’

‘He’s nothurtingme!’ I protested, voice soaring. ‘He never has! And weren’t we all past assuming he was just looking for an opportunity to kill me or use me against you?’