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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

T he previous disgust and hostility have morphed into something like curiosity. And hunger. It makes me feel like a prized horse being assessed at an auction. But it’s better than hatred at least, I suppose.

Light from the faelight gems casts glittering sparkles over the large room and makes the attendants’ jewelry gleam like stars.

With grand stone pillars and a high ceiling, this room should feel like a ballroom.

But the plush couches and booths and cushions and other seating arrangements throughout the room make it feel more like we’ve stumbled into an orgy.

Not to mention the guests. The way they’re looking at each other, and at us, makes it feel as if they’re going to start indulging in their desires right here.

Maybe they will. Who knows with these Unseelie fae?

I suppress the urge to cross my arms over my chest as a group of partygoers ogles us from a short distance away. The attire that Jocasta forced us to wear isn’t exactly helping either.

All six of us are dressed in black and gold. Black to signal Jocasta’s faction and gold to rub it in her rivals’ faces that we won the first game. And that’s fine. But it’s the style of dress that makes me feel incredibly exposed.

Isera, Lyra, and I are wearing short skirts made of gold-trimmed strips of black leather that overlap, forming a full skirt together rather than being one solid piece of fabric.

The top, also made of black leather, only has two thin straps over our shoulders, and it ends a little below our breasts, leaving our stomachs bare.

Bands of gold twist around our bare arms like snakes, and we’re wearing these absolutely ridiculous sandals made only of straps that reach almost all the way up to our knees.

Draven, Alistair, and Galen wear even less.

They’re only wearing that skirt-like garment, though theirs is a little longer than ours and reaches almost to their knees, and those sandals made of straps.

Bands of gold circle their upper arms as well, but as opposed to us, their chests are completely bare.

On Jocasta’s suggestion, Draven has his wings out as well, and they loom menacingly over his shoulders.

I have to admit, he is insanely hot in this outfit.

But the fact that other people are staring at his half-naked body as well is making me want to stab something.

“How much longer?” I mutter under my breath.

Jocasta, who is standing in the middle of our row, casts me a glance from the corner of her eye. “He should be arriving any minute now.”

We’re standing side by side in the middle of the large room, arranged in a straight line and facing the grand stairs that the Unseelie King will saunter down soon.

Apparently, he needs to congratulate us on the win before the actual party can begin.

But the infuriating monarch is fifteen minutes late, which has forced us to just remain standing here while the rest of the guests appraise us like livestock.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” I huff.

Jocasta doesn’t reply.

A low murmur fills the room as the crowd, dressed as scantily as we are, continues studying us.

I can almost feel them reassessing their previous opinions of us.

The fact that we won the first game proved that we are strong.

And these outfits we’re wearing now make them see us as desirable.

Though I will never admit it to Jocasta, she did know what she was doing when she picked these outfits for us.

The quiet murmurs disappear in a flash as a figure appears at the top of the stairs.

Clothes rustle and jewelry clinks as everyone bows to the Unseelie King.

Well, everyone except the six of us. With a growl of frustration, Jocasta grabs my arm with one hand and Draven’s with the other and yanks.

We exchange a glance before bowing slightly.

The others do the same. Though Isera’s so called bow is barely a dip of the chin.

Orion Nightbane saunters down the white stone steps and towards the packed room below. There is a satisfied smirk lurking on his lips as he watches his people bow to him. Then his eyes find Isera, and his gaze sharpens. But he thankfully doesn’t press the issue.

The crowd straightens again as he reaches the final step. He remains there, watching us with a haughty expression on his face for a while. Once the silence has started to get uncomfortable, he finally speaks.

“Congratulations, Jocasta,” he says, his voice echoing across the whole room.

“On the Black Faction’s surprising win. We were all wondering what you were thinking when you picked these outsiders as your team, but you have trained them well and given us a most entertaining first game.

” A knowing glint flickers in his eyes as he briefly sweeps his gaze over the six of us.

“I look forward to seeing how they will perform in the final game.” That wicked gleam disappears as he shifts his attention back to Jocasta.

“But for now, enjoy all this night has to offer.”

Jocasta bows deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He waves his hand, giving her permission to withdraw, before strolling towards the luxurious dark blue sofas that have been set aside behind a golden rope.

Thick curtains of the same royal blue color frame the private area, sectioning it off from the rest of the massive room and providing privacy.

The crowd waits until Orion has taken a seat in the middle of the comfortable seating arrangement before they start moving and talking again.

As soon as everyone’s attention is at last elsewhere, Jocasta turns to us. “Alright, we need to start making rounds so that people can meet you. The more you?—”

“Jocasta,” Orion calls from where he lounges on the dark blue cushions. Raising a hand, he twitches two fingers in arrogant command. “Send over the Shadow of Death and his mate.”

She immediately snaps her gaze to us. “You heard him. Get over there.” Steel creeps into her tone as she gives us a pointed look and adds, “And behave.”

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and instead simply turn around and start towards Orion with Draven next to me.

Clenching my jaw, I try to force down a burst of anger.

The Shadow of Death and his mate . I hate the fact that he defined me only by who I am to Draven, but I know that he did it for exactly that reason.

Draven has already explained that Orion loves to play mind games and get inside people’s heads, so I try to block out the anger.

He wants to get a rise out of me, and I refuse to let him.

We have a mission to accomplish, and it starts right now.

Several groups of people watch us with excitement in their eyes as we approach the Unseelie King’s private section.

He just watches us with a smirk from where he’s lounging on the dark blue couch, his legs spread and both arms draped nonchalantly along the backrest. When we reach the gold rope, we simply walk around it and then come to a halt right in front of the sofa. It makes us tower over him.

Annoyance flits across his face and a muscle flickers in his jaw for a moment before he manages to hide it.

“Sit down,” he orders.

“No, thanks,” Draven drawls, spreading his wings a little wider.

It blocks Orion’s view of the rest of the party, and everyone else’s view of him too. Lightning flashes in his eyes as he tries to stare us down even though he has to tilt his head back to even meet our gazes. We just look back at him, smirks full of challenge on our faces.

Come on , I urge silently in my mind. Come on, do it. You have to have brought it with you. Come on. Do it.

Fury burns in his eyes.

Then he lets out a scoff before reaching into a pocket in his fancy shirt.

Victory pulses inside me as he pulls out a short piece of metal. Yes! He did bring the dragon steel. Now, we just need to steal it from him.

“Sit down,” Orion orders, a vicious smile on his face as he spins the dragon steel nonchalantly in his palm. “Before I make you.”

Draven, who I now know is an incredible actor, glares very convincingly at Orion before tucking his wings in tighter and dropping down on the sofa to the king’s right. I shoot Orion a, in my opinion, very convincing scowl before I sit down on the sofa to his left.

“So cocky when you’re waiving that little stick around,” Draven challenges, his eyes locked on Orion. “Because without it, you know I’d mop the fucking floor with you, you preening little princeling.”

Orion lets out a cold laugh, his eyes still pulsing with smugness. “Is that what you think?”

“You wouldn’t even last two minutes in a one-on-one against me.”

He laughs again. It’s an arrogant sound, full of challenge. “In a one-on-one, you would be weeping for mercy at my feet within the first minute, you brooding beast.”

“Put that little stick down then and let’s see who’s right.”

For a moment, it looks like Orion is actually considering it. Which shocks me. It’s Draven fucking Ryat. Only the most suicidal of people would agree to fight him one-on-one.

But then Orion clicks his tongue and flicks a dismissive hand. “Maybe later.” But he does slip the dragon steel back into a pocket inside his shirt. Then he locks commanding eyes on us. “For now, I have a simple order for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keep your little ice lady in check.” His intense gaze locks on Isera where she is standing next to Jocasta across the room, being introduced to a group of people who all look very pleased to see her.

Orion shifts his attention back to us, his tone sharpening.

“I can’t have her challenge me like that in public. ”

I use that as an excuse to make eye contact with Isera as well and give her an almost imperceptible nod. She doesn’t nod back, but she holds my gaze for another few seconds to signal that she saw it. Now, we just need to keep Orion distracted until she gets here.

On the couch opposite me, Draven smirks at Orion. “You mean throw a spear of ice at you and then blow you a kiss in front of an entire arena packed with people.”

Narrowing his eyes, he gives Draven a vicious look, not even bothering to reply.

“Then why not just tell her that, then?” I ask, interrupting their staring contest.

Orion slides his gaze to me, but doesn’t reply to that either. Instead, he looks to Draven again. “Keep her in check, or I will vent my displeasure on your mate instead.”

Draven goes preternaturally still. Like the calm before a violent storm. Then he sits forward, closing some of the distance to Orion, and spreads his wings slightly.

“Threaten her one more time,” he growls, his voice low and vicious. “I fucking dare you.”

Orion’s eyes glint in challenge. “You?—”

“Enough.” I cast an exasperated glance between the two of them. “It’s fine. We’ll make sure she doesn’t humiliate you in public again.”

Red flushes Orion’s cheeks, and he snaps his gaze to me, looking stunned. “She didn’t humiliate me.” He practically spits out the words.

“Sorry, I meant challenge you.”

He grinds his teeth but doesn’t call me on the lie.

I flick a quick glance towards Isera. She is trying to leave Jocasta and the group currently fawning over her, but they keep blocking her escape route while asking more questions.

Her eyes find mine. I stifle a groan. Shit . I need to stall for time.

“Good,” Orion says with finality. He flicks his wrist. “Then you can leave?—”

“What was the partnership between fae and dragon shifters?” I blurt out, just to keep him talking. And, if I’m being honest, because I really want an answer too.

He frowns, looking confused for a second.

So I press on before he can dismiss us again. “Before the war, the fae and the dragon shifters apparently had some kind of mutually beneficial partnership. What was it?”

His frown deepens, and annoyance laces his tone as he replies, “How should I know?”

“You’re fae, aren’t you?” I retort, now equally confused.

“ Unseelie fae.”

“So?”

“The dragon shifters only entered into partnerships with the Seelie fae.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Yes.” He looks between the two of us as if he can’t figure out if we’re taunting him or if we truly didn’t know. He appears to see the genuine surprise on our faces, because he lets out a forceful sigh and adds, “It’s the main issue that drove a rift between our courts.”

Raising my eyebrows, I stare back at him. “You wanted to be dragon riders too?”

“Of course we did.” Deep resentment laces his tone.

“Both the Seelie fae and the dragon shifters became incredibly powerful when they formed those partnerships, so we naturally wanted it too.” He shoots me a sharp glare.

“But you refused to tell us and guarded that secret fiercely.” His gaze slides to Draven.

“And the dragon shifters didn’t want to bond with us on their own because they didn’t trust us. ”

Draven scoffs. “I wonder why.”

A considering look blows across Orion’s face. “Don’t you know how it’s done? You’re a dragon shifter.”

“No,” Draven admits, somewhat reluctantly. “We were also only taught that the fae forced us and enslaved us.”

Orion lets out a short chuckle and then clicks his tongue again. “Ah, changing history. Smart.”

Frustration washes over me. The Unseelie Court doesn’t know either. It’s looking more and more like the only ones who are old enough to still know the truth are the dryads. But how in Mabona’s name are we going to persuade them to help us?

Orion suddenly sits up straight and snaps his gaze to something straight ahead. It yanks me back to the present. Turning my head, I find a stunning Seelie fae woman with long black hair and sharp blue and silver eyes striding towards us. Isera.

A small smile steals across my lips as I glance between her and Orion.

This is going to be fun.