Page 81 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Step after step, she backed away from the room, her stomach plummeting with dread, and she didn’t pause as she turned back toward the celebration.

The crowd had swelled by the time she returned to the ballroom.

Arenna slipped through the throngs of Fae and made her way to the seating at the front, where Baldric still sat in his previous position.

Swallowing, she slid into her chair and reached for a bowl of fruit, hoping no one noticed the trembling of her hands. Baldric glanced her way and smiled. Arenna forced one in return, doing her best to conceal the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Though she felt safer here, knowing the king and his council weren’t far, the dread in her chest expanded, coating her entire body in its oily grip. She didn’t understand why her hallucination had revealed a place she’d never seen.

Nor did she want to find out why.

* * *

In the hours they had been there, the dancing never ceased.

Arenna remained in her seat, weighed down by an unshakable sense of dread from her run in with the familiar chambers.

Though she was still stricken with fear, she could not bring herself to stand, to mingle, to be a part of the celebration in her honor.

Hours spent watching Fae dance and sway and indulging in fine pastries and decadent desserts did not bother her until her eyes landed on a jug of wine at the end of the table.

It hadn’t been that long ago that she’d found herself in a similar position—alone at the front of a room, sipping wine until she felt nothing, watching life pass her by.

Her heart rate picked up.

What are you doing?

She hadn’t escaped Brookworth and Jaksen to fall into her old ways, to become that dormant shell of a person again.

Why are you still letting Jaksen control you?

Arenna stood abruptly, the chair legs screeching against the floor. She nearly flung herself into the crowd of Fae, her eyes searching for the king. He was her friend. He was kind and gentle, despite his cold exterior to the world.

Dancing with him didn’t have to mean anything.

She could live and still remain within her boundaries.

Arenna turned left and right, but the Fae King was nowhere to be found. Bramnen was there, dancing with Marea, and Wylder stood in his usual corner—assessing, watching.

But where was he ?

Laughter hit her ears not a heartbeat later. Kayson stood in a small circle, laughing and talking with Rodsan—and another female with near-purple hair.

She froze, watching as the female’s golden hand wrapped around his forearm. The world seemed to move in slow motion as Kayson looked down into the woman’s eyes and she looked up, both laughing.

Arenna ignored every flare of emotion that tried to rise. Instead of playing into the ache in her chest, she nodded, smiled, and blinked. This is a sign , she thought. The Seven are stopping me before I make myself a fool .

The music, once calming, now overwhelmed her.

Her heart and mind were at war, and the only thing she could think to do was leave.

Faces and voices blurred into one as she pushed through the crowd of Fae, her focus fixed solely on the exit.

She broke through the doors and made for the entrance at the end of the long hallway.

Arenna averted her gaze from the row of doors on her left, finding it difficult to breathe in the presence of the third one.

She hurried down the hall, her heart pounding in her throat, but it didn’t take long for the scent of rain to envelop her.

As she pushed through the outer doors, she murmured, “I want to go home.”

Kayson said nothing, merely pulling her close and slipping a capsule under his tongue.

Nausea roared through her as her feet touched the stone balcony outside her chamber.

Still in the king’s arms, she allowed herself a brief moment to nuzzle closer, savoring the feel of his body against hers—the scent of his clothing, the smell of his skin from soap.

Her heart felt as though it was bleeding.

Arenna forced her feet to move because if she lingered in his embrace even a moment longer, she might never find the strength to leave it again.

She felt his hesitation as she pulled away, his hand lingering until she slipped beyond his reach. Arenna murmured a quiet thanks over her shoulder to the king, who stood silently beneath the moonlight.

Breathe , she told herself.

This longing for him was both new and deeply familiar, as though her desire was woven into her very bones. It made it nearly impossible to breathe with his hands on her and his body so close.

Kayson reached for her hand again as she reached for the door handle. “What happened?” he asked, his tone heavy with concern.

Her heart ached. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“What happened?” he pressed again. Arenna pulled her hand from his. “Please don’t walk away from me,” Kayson pleaded, taking a step closer.

“Go back to the celebration. I need . . . I need to be here. Alone .”

“I don’t understand—”

“There’s nothing for you to understand,” Arenna snapped, her blood simmering with frustration. But he did not deserve this, and she hated herself more for hurting him.

Kayson didn’t flinch at her voice or the rising anger; instead, he stepped closer. He cupped her cheek and whispered, “Tell me.”

Arenna melted into his touch but quickly recoiled. “You can’t talk to me like this—hold me like that .” She moved his hand away, stepping back. “I can’t be trapped in another castle, under another crown. I won’t survive it.”

It was dark in her chambers, but she was sure Kayson flinched.

He whispered, “Is that what you think I would do to you?”

“That’s what being with you would mean,” she said, her voice cracking.

“You are the damned King of Worden, Kayson. Crossing that line would mean . . .” She couldn’t finish her thought.

“ It’s too much . And too confusing. We have a job to do, one that cannot afford distractions.

” Her gaze drifted toward him, to the king standing in the doorway, his presence alone radiating power and brutality.

So damned beautiful .

A wonderful distraction he would be indeed.

Silence was heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. Arenna needed to escape this dress. “You are my friend. Nothing more.” Hurt flashed in his eyes, and her heart ached for him. But she stood firm in her boundaries. “Goodnight, Kayson.” She began to shut her balcony doors.

He blocked the second door with his boot. “I—” he breathed, desperation lacing his voice as if the words were stuck.

She thought it might be better that way.

“Goodnight,” she repeated.

Kayson’s brows furrowed, his mouth tightening. But he removed his boot, and the doors clicked shut. Bracing her hands against the glass he couldn’t see through, she breathed deeply, eventually closing the thick curtains to the king who had not moved from outside.

Arenna turned and rested her back against the glass, letting the cool night air seep into her still-burning skin. She sank to the floor, unzipping her gown—breathing hard as her lungs finally felt less squished.

Minutes passed—maybe hours; she couldn’t tell. But she did not move.

Reality snapped back, and she stood, turning the lock on the balcony doors. As the bolt slid shut, the unmistakable sound of rippling echoed—enough to rattle her doors.

Had he stayed there the whole time?

Arenna undid the lock and pulled open the doors. A ripple of color met her eyes—a swirling display of purple and blue, the world beyond slightly distorted, as if she were gazing at the mountains through water.