Page 113 of A Fate in Flames

Mira had said tonight would be different.I’d foolishly hoped ‘different’ meant that Dalkhan wouldn’t be here.After our last confrontation and what I’d learned today, the last thing I needed was to come face to face with him.

Through the haze of golden light and bodies, he sprawled lazily in a massive wooden chair.A thick, black-tipped fur draped over its back.Dalkhan looked every inch the king he was.Relics and chains adorned his skin, each one catching the glow and reflecting it back like molten gold.

He exuded a tangible authority, and he was enjoying himself.

Beautiful women surrounded him like jewels.Iznia stood impossibly close on one side, her clawed fingers trailing over his skin as her body pressed against him, drinking in his warmth.Another with cropped pale hair knelt between his spread legs, her head arched back.Watching him with such naked adoration it made my teeth ache.Her face hovered dangerously close to his thigh as she traced a slow pattern along the hard muscle, each movement a promise of pleasures to come.

My fists clenched at my sides.

I had absolutely no right to feel this way—none whatsoever—but my blood boiled.

“I need air,” I said quickly.

Theo’s lips quirked up with infuriating smugness.“We’reoutside.”

I fixed him with a glare.“Well then, I needdifferentair.”

I pivoted, ready to flee into the shadows, but Jasila stepped directly in front of me, blocking my path.

“We must greet the king,” she said.“Bow, then you may leave to enjoy the night.”

She might as well have slapped me across the face.

We approached him slowly, each step heavier than the last.He hadn’t noticed us, too consumed by the worship at his feet—by the woman whose fingers now crept along his inner thigh.

Asshole.

Jasila cleared her throat.“My king.”

Dalkhan’s head snapped up, the muscles in his neck flexing taut.His smirk vanished for the briefest, most satisfying moment before he regained control.He sucked in a long breath, as if drawing my scent from the space between us.His eyes travelled from my face downward, lingering at my throat where the golden chains nestled against my skin, dipping lower to where the silk barely contained my breasts, tracing the curve of my waist before dragging back up to my face with excruciating slowness.

My body answered his command whether I wanted it to or not.

We bowed our heads as one.

A rough sound escaped him—not quite a growl, but deeper.From beneath my lowered lashes, I watched Jasila straighten and mirrored her movement, raising my head.

His gaze narrowed as it flicked to Theo and Tavrik standing by my sides.A dark shadow of irritation crossed his features before he dismissed us with a wave.

Still, his attention remained fixed on me with an intensity that threatened to burn through flesh and bone.

Not even as the women resumed their worship, hands and mouths marking paths across his skin with desperate need.Not even as Iznia dragged her tongue up the line of his throat.

A slow, cruel smile curved his lips.His massive hand shot out to grasp the pale-haired woman’s chin, fingers digging into flesh as he arched her head back further—and still,stillhe stared at me, his thumb brushing her bottom lip in a caress meant for my eyes alone.Pressing into the soft flesh until it yielded.Her whimper echoed in the charged space between us, but it might as well have been torn from my own throat.

I spun away, the silk swirling around my legs as I stalked toward a table near the roaring fire pits.My heart hammered violently in my throat—between my legs, at the base of my spine—everywhere except where it belonged.

We dropped onto the benches, reaching for food with eager hands.I tore into seared meat, the juices running down my chin as I chewed, desperate to fill my mouth with something—anything—that might distract me from what had passed between us.

Mira slid onto the bench beside Theo, curving to him as if pulled by some invisible force.Theo’s face split into a grin as he bent towards her, whispering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.Even Tavrik had loosened up, his shoulders no longer rigid as he tracked a woman moving past our table.Her hips swayed, fingers gliding across his back as she murmured appreciation for his features loud enough for us all to hear.

I allowed myself to sink into the moment, but every few minutes, awareness prickled across my skin.

Dalkhan’s gaze burned into me from across the space.

I refused to turn—refused to acknowledge him.I focused on the drums that pounded with increasing urgency, the rhythm rising in the air.

The music had shifted, transformed into something wild and untamed.Drummer’s hands blurred as they struck taut skins.String instruments wailed, the notes hooking beneath my ribs and tugging, an invitation to dance.