Page 37 of Bride of Death

His eyebrows lift. “Should we order more of those instead?”

I blink. “I don’t…” My brow furrows. “Do you even want drinks?”

“Probably not,” Maliki drawls as he appears beside me, making me jump from his sudden presence. “But you told them all to order drinks, so they’re ordering drinks.”

My frown deepens as I look at him. However, he’s not paying me any mind—he’s just refilling his drink again. I’ve not bumped into him at all, but I suspect this isn’t the first time he’s refilled his cup tonight.

“I didn’t tell them to do anything,” I say to Maliki.

“Not true, trouble,” he murmurs, swirling his glass to hold all the smoky substance inside of it. “You told them to come place their orders. Thus…” He gestures to the fae swarm at the bar.

I stare at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Oh, I agree, but I’m not the one who issued the command.”

“I didn’t command anyone.”

His features crinkle as he replies, “Yeah, you did. And as the Bride of Death, they all jumped to obey you.”

My eyes widen. “They didn’t.”

His eyebrow arches, then he cocks his head toward the crowd while giving me a look that says,But didn’t they?

“Oh, thorns,” I breathe, realizing that he’s right. “They’re drinking themselves into a stupor!”

“That they are,” he drawls, his lips quirking up at the sides. “Good thing they’re all immortal and can handle it.”

With that profound statement, he disappears again.

I growl.

It’s a guttural sound, one that has a few fae nearby taking a step backward. And for once, I just do not care.

Because this has gotten out of control.

“Gnarls,” I hiss.

He instantly stops what he’s doing and is at my side in a blink. “Yes, my, er.” He clears his throat. “How can I help you, Sera?”

I bite my cheek, my patience nonexistent. But I can tell he’s trying.

Because he thinks I’m engaged to a God.

And not just any God, buthisGod.

How is this my life?I marvel, the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose overwhelming my thoughts.

Yet somehow I maintain a calm I don’t feel and politely say, “I would like the rest of the evening off.”

“Oh, of course, Sera. You’ve worked very hard tonight.”

I actually have worked pretty hard tonight, so I decide to just accept his words and not question if he means them or if he’s just saying them to appease me. “Thank you,” I tell him before looking at the crowd. “Please enjoy your evening and do whatever you, um, like to do.” It’s the dumbest statement I’ve probably ever made. However, the relief in the bar is palpable.

Because they no longer feel compelled to order drinks.

Stars, this is insane. Utter madness. I just…

I can’t even finish the thought. I simply need to leave.