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CHAPTER THIRTY

T he air practically crackles with tension as Isera saunters over to the royal blue sofas we’re occupying. Her hips are swaying more than I have ever seen since the day I met her, and there is a knowing smirk on her lips as she locks eyes with the Unseelie King. Orion narrows his eyes at her.

“You have not been summoned, little viper,” he says, his voice laced with both authority and threats.

Isera arches an eyebrow while the smirk on her lips widens. “Do I look like someone who is summoned?”

“No.” He rakes his gaze up and down her body, and his eyes glint. “Which is why it will be so much more satisfying when I finally make you submit to me.”

“You couldn’t make me submit to you even if you spent the rest of eternity trying.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No. That was a fact. The ice spear was a challenge.”

A dangerous expression flickers across his handsome features for a second as he no doubt relives the memory of the ice spear that Isera threw at him in front of the entire arena. But to my surprise, he doesn’t look angry. He looks more… intrigued. As if he enjoys playing these dangerous games.

“And the kiss you blew me?” he asks, his intense eyes locked on Isera as she closes the final distance to him.

“Oh, that?” She stops right in front of him, standing between his spread legs. That sharp smirk remains on her lips as she casts a pointed glance down at his crotch before meeting his eyes again. “That was a threat.”

His eyes glint, and he shoves to his feet.

Isera just places a hand on his chest, pushing him back down.

And because she is already standing in the exact same spot that Orion would need in order to get to his feet, he’s off balance when he tries to stand, and the shove makes him sit back down hard on the cushions again.

A sharp intake of breath comes from my left.

I snap my gaze towards the sound, finding a group of Unseelie fae watching the unfolding events with rapt interest. The thick blue drapes, which frame the sides and back of this private seating area, are still open at the front, leaving us all visible to the rest of the room.

My gaze flits to the Unseelie King, who seems to realize the same thing. Reaching behind him, he pulls on a golden rope. The dark blue drapes at the front flutter closed, leaving only the glittering faelight gems mounted on gold candle holders next to the sofas to light the space.

In the dim light, Draven and I exchange a glance.

He gives me a nod before casting a distinctively impressed look in Isera’s direction.

We discussed this plan before we left the house, but neither of us was certain if Isera would actually be able to do what she said. Looks like we were wrong to doubt her.

During those few seconds when Orion is distracted with pulling the curtains shut, Isera presses her advantage.

In one fluid motion, she climbs up so that she is straddling Orion’s lap.

He whips his head back to stare at her, the rope still dangling behind him, as she slides her hands over his shoulders and interlinks them behind his neck.

For a moment, it’s as if Orion can’t process what is happening. He just sits there, staring at her with stunned eyes. Isera uses that moment well.

Leaning forward, she brings her lips almost all the way to his, stopping only a breath away. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Isera smirks against his mouth and then abruptly pulls back again. “Too bad you can’t have me.”

Emotions flash in his eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s angry or embarrassed or turned on. Lifting his arms, he grips her bare waist with both hands as he grinds out, “I am the king. I can have whatever I want. I can do whatever I want. Especially with my prisoners.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who had to force a woman.”

His grip tightens on her waist, and frustration pulses across his features. “I’m not. I have never forced anyone into my bed. Ever.”

“Thought so. Because with this pretty face of yours, you have never been rejected by anyone before, have you?” She gives him a knowing smile. “People have thrown themselves at your feet, begging for just one single night with you. Haven’t they?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” Her smile turns mocking as she unlinks her hands from behind his neck and instead slides them down his toned chest. “Then my rejection must really sting.” She tuts. “Such a fragile ego you have, pretty boy.”

His hand shoots up, wrapping around her throat. “Careful, little viper.”

“Or what?” She rakes her hands down his chest before slipping them underneath the dark fabric. “You’ll come in your pants from my mere touch?”

Fire flares in his eyes, and he shifts his grip on her throat so that his thumb is pressing underneath her chin, forcing her to tilt her head back. “Oh the things I would do to you.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if you tried.”

She rolls her hips, grinding herself against him, right at the same time as she slides her hands back out of his clothes.

My heart jerks as something metallic catches the light. She did it!

Leaping to my feet, I grab at Isera’s wrists as if to pull her off Orion’s lap in a panic.

Just as we agreed earlier, she shoves me off while discreetly slipping the piece of dragon steel into my hand.

I pretend to stumble back and bend over to catch my balance on the sofa while I ram the thin piece of dragon steel down between my breasts, hiding it beneath the thick leather of my top.

Draven, who has also jumped to his feet, blocks Orion’s view of me while I perform the maneuver as he launches himself at Isera as well. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he wrenches her up and yanks her off Orion’s lap.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, making my voice sound frantic and worried.

“Get off me,” Isera snarls, very convincingly, as Draven throws her to her feet behind him.

On the sofa, Orion blinks, looking disoriented.

“We’ll keep her in line,” I continue in that deliberately panicked voice, trying to keep him from realizing that we just stole the dragon steel from him.

Pressing my palms together, I hold them pleadingly in front of my chest. It’s both to sell the worried act and as an extra safety precaution so that he won’t see any outlines of the dragon steel underneath my clothes.

“Please. I promise. Just don’t… Don’t use your powers on us again.

Please. I can’t handle another night like the last one. ”

Orion at last seems to recover. Shifting his weight, he sits forward to hide the very distinctive bulge that is now pressing against the front of his pants. We all pretend not to see it.

“I should punish you all for this insolence,” he threatens, his voice hard. But he looks… flustered. Clenching his jaw, he drags in a controlled breath before locking commanding eyes on Draven. “Keep her in line.” His gaze darts to me. “Or my previous threat stands.”

Draven flares his wings wider, a snarl on his face at the threat to me.

But we have what we came for, and now we just need to leave before Orion realizes it, so I hurriedly reply, “Understood.”

Before anyone can say anything else that might screw this all up, I whirl around and start pushing Draven and Isera towards the front curtains. They thankfully follow along, and we beat a hasty retreat out of the Unseelie King’s private section.

Light and music and laughter meet us as we step back out into the massive room.

Some people have started dancing closer to where the musicians are playing.

Though it’s not the orderly ballroom dancing that I experienced in the Ice Palace.

This is wilder. More uncoordinated. And more intimate.

I raise my eyebrows as I notice a surprising number of people raking their hands over each other and making out in the other seating arrangements across the room.

Maybe my first impression of this feeling like an orgy wasn’t all that wrong after all.

Halfway across the room, I spot Jocasta and the rest of our team.

She is explaining something to a group of male fae while motioning expressively at Alistair.

They appraise him, looking impressed as they nod.

Alistair, in turn, looks like he can’t decide whether to puff his chest up with pride or run away and hide from the intense scrutiny.

We set course for them.

“That was…” Draven begins, glancing down at Isera.

She walks between us, her spine straight and her chin up, looking entirely unaffected by what she just did. At Draven’s words, she flicks a sideways glance at him.

“Surprising,” Draven finishes at the same time as I say, “Impressive.”

Isera casts a glance over her shoulder, back towards the Unseelie King’s still closed-off section. Then she lifts her slim shoulders in a shrug. There is an entirely unreadable expression on her face as she turns her head back and simply replies, “Whatever it takes to win.”

Apprehension flutters through my stomach as I’m reminded that we still have an entire game left to get through.

A game that we still don’t know what it will entail.

And if we fail, it won’t matter that we managed to steal back the dragon steel from Orion.

We will still be trapped in here behind the wards.

I blow out a long steadying breath.

Whatever it takes to win, indeed.