Page 32

Chapter

Thirty-Two

W ine coats my tongue before it settles in my stomach, warming my body from the inside out. The one thing I will compliment Baylor on is his taste in alcohol. He spares no expense on his indulgences.

“Your Majesty,” Kaldar’s dull voice says. He hasn’t stopped talking since dinner began. “You need not rely on vigilantes and opportunists to capture the Angel of Mercy. And given the food shortages in the north, I’m not sure such a large sum should have been promised.”

My eyes roll back in my skull as he carries on with his protests. Unfortunately, saying no wasn’t an option when Baylor ordered me to join them for dinner tonight. The scent of butter and herbs wafts through his private dining chamber, but I have no appetite. Instead, I’m choosing to consume a liquid meal this evening. But if they don’t start eating faster, I’m going to pass out before dinner’s over. They’ve barely made it past the first course, and I’m already finishing my second glass.

Resentment brews over the topic of conversation, making the alcohol sour in my stomach. It appears Della was right about the bounty. Everyone in the city is going to be hunting me now. Memories of the way I spoke to her that night poison my already terrible mood. I should never have said those things to her.

The list of people who know my identity is small, only those we trust, but fifty thousand gold coins is enough to make people do things they swore they never would…. like turn on a friend.

“If you would only give me another chance, I’ll prove to you that I’m more than capable of catching this bastard,” the adviser insists, his dark eyes beseeching the king.

“Then why have you not succeeded already?” Baylor snaps, evidently just as annoyed as I am.

A flush blossoms under Kaldar’s pale skin and he tucks his chin, hiding his embarrassment behind the stringy black hair that falls into his face. “I will not fail you again.”

Baylor sits back, taking a sip from his goblet. “I should hope not.”

I hide my smirk behind my own glass, my gaze snagging on the way Baylor checks his pocket watch for the third time since dinner started. His lips thin as his attention flickers to the door. Are we expecting an addition to our party? When I sat down, I noticed the table was set for more guests, but I assumed it was an oversight.

I lean forward, setting down my wine. “Is someone else joining us?”

The words have barely left my mouth when the door swings open.

Doral enters, bowing at the waist. “Your guests, my king.”

My heart constricts as the last person I expected to see strides into the room.

“Sorry we’re late,” Thorne says, a wicked grin curving his lips.

Memories of those lips on my skin send a flash of heat straight to my core. I shift in my seat, willing myself to calm down. If I don’t get my reactions under control, everyone will know what happened between us the other night.

“No matter,” Baylor responds coolly. “We started without you.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Behind Thorne, two others file into the dining room. Griffen catches my eye and I cringe when I recall the way he caught us in that alley. I can’t imagine what his thoughts were when he stumbled upon me and Thorne doing… whatever it was we were doing. Steering my thoughts away from that topic, my attention settles on their other companion, recognizing her instantly.

Fia.

The woman who accompanied them to the ball. Her dark hair is pulled back into a simple, yet elegant chignon. I catch the slightly rounded points of her ears poking out, marking her as half fae. Dark coal lines her eyes, complimenting the depth of her brown irises. She’s extremely lovely, and yet the sight of her next to Thorne makes my stomach twist.

I expect Thorne to take the seat at the end, directly opposite from Baylor. But instead, he pulls out the chair next to mine, sliding into it despite the questioning glances thrown his way. Griffen helps himself to the seat across from Thorne, accepting the unfortunate task of sitting next to Kaldar. Which leaves Fia stuck at the other end of the rectangular table, across from the king.

Thorne’s eyes burn into the side of my face, but I refuse to glance in his direction.

“ Wraith ,” he drawls.

It takes immense effort to suppress the shiver that threatens to overwhelm me. How he makes such a simple word sound sinful, I’ll never know.

“Killian,” I instill as much disrespect as I can into the name.

The room goes silent. I can feel everyone staring at me. Perhaps addressing a God by his first name and in that tone was a bit too far? I blame the wine as I guzzle down the rest of my glass.

Griffen snorts, breaking the silence. “You are as charming as ever, Lady Iverson.”

I find his warm gaze, latching onto it like a lifeline. “How nice to see you again, Lord Griffen.”

Strangely, I find that I actually mean that. Apparently, the charming fae has worked his way under my skin. My attention shifts to the woman sitting to his right. “I don’t believe I’ve been properly introduced to your other companion.”

“May I present Lady Fia,” Griffen gestures to the female fae. “A valued member of Death’s advisory council.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Fia.” I nod politely.

Her gaze flits between me and Thorne, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine. I’ve heard many interesting things about you.” The words are spoken with such warmth that I automatically believe her. The ugly feeling in my stomach eases slightly. “And please, no need for formalities. Just call me Fia.”

“Now that we’ve all been introduced,” Baylor chimes in, a hint of petulance in his tone. “Perhaps we can move ahead with our meal.”

Servants enter, carrying plates of food that they deposit in front of the newcomers and topping off our glasses. Finished with their tasks, they file out, leaving us alone once more. Griffen immediately digs in, but Thorne holds back.

“I must say, Lady Iverson,” he drawls. “I greatly enjoyed our time together the other night.”

I sputter as wine catches in my throat, choking me.

“When we danced together,” he explains after I catch my breath, his thick brows raising innocently. “Surely you remember. You were a wonderful partner. So pliant.”

I consider stabbing him with a dinner knife. If I was fast enough, I might be able to do it without anyone noticing.

“Yes, my pet is an excellent dancer,” Baylor agrees evenly, his lips pursed as he watches the God at my side.

“And flexible too,” Thorne purrs.

Griffen coughs, his face turning red as he covers his hand over his mouth. “Apologies,” he croaks.

“Personally,” Kaldar interjects, “I found the dance to be inappropriate and unbecoming of a future queen.”

“No one cares what you think,” I grumble.

“Please excuse my pet.” Baylor glares at me. “She’s had a trying day. Her father’s funeral was this morning.”

Kaldar nods. “Yes. Very tragic.”

My gaze narrows on the bastard. “Really? I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“I was in the back,” he says, his tone clipped.

I roll my eyes. “My, how the mighty have fallen.”

Muffled laughter comes from the other end of the table as Griffen and Fia attempt to camouflage their amusement as indigestion.

“Iverson,” Baylor’s tone turns dangerous. “Behave yourself, pet.”

I cast my eyes down in a submissive gesture. The conversation carries on as Kaldar claims the king’s attention, regaling him with gossip about some lord whose wife is having an affair. Thorne takes full advantage of their distraction, shifting his chair closer to mine.

“I expected to see your brother here,” he whispers.

The mention of Bel sends a sharp stab of sadness through my heart. “He left. It’s for the best.”

I nearly jump when something warm touches me under the table. Peering down, I subtly lift the tablecloth that covers my lap to find Thorne’s bare hand slipping underneath the slit in my gown. His thumb rubs tiny circles against my thigh, causing my core to clench.

I glare at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me as he chuckles at something Griffen says. With his other hand he brings his glass to his mouth and takes a sip of his wine. My breath hitches as his tongue darts out to catch a wayward drop clinging to his upper lip.

“Mmm, delicious,” he murmurs.

Everyone in the room carries on with their meal, completely unaware of the inappropriate behavior happening beneath the veil of the white tablecloth. I squirm in my seat as I cross my legs in an attempt to dislodge him. Thorne’s grip tightens, stilling my movements. He keeps his focus on the others, but I spot the faint curve of his lips. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. My breasts feel heavier as my nipples harden into points. Clearly my body remembers how much it enjoyed his touch.

“There’s a matter we need to discuss,” Baylor announces loudly.

The gentle scraping of silverware against porcelain comes to a halt as everyone turns to the king, but his attention is reserved solely for the God next to me.

“I have a proposal.”

“I’m flattered,” Thorne replies, one brow arching. “But I believe you’re already engaged.”

A cold chuckle forces its way out of Baylor’s mouth, but his eyes are unamused. He keeps his gaze on Thorne as he snags my hand and brings it to his lips. “True,” he whispers against my skin, sending a wave of revulsion through me. “I couldn’t be more thrilled that Iverson will soon be my wife.”

Thorne’s fingers curl into my flesh, possessive but not painful. Tingles skate over my skin, making me shiver.

Baylor lifts a brow. “Cold, pet?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Finally, the king releases my hand, and his attention returns to Thorne. “My proposal for you is of a different nature.”

There’s no warmth in the God of Death’s voice when he responds, “I’m listening.”

“We expect to find the almanova any day now,” Baylor explains, leaning back in his chair. “The city is closed off, and my soldiers are going door to door. It will be returned to us shortly.”

“I believe we’ve heard that line before,” Fia speaks up, her gaze narrowing on the king. “Didn’t you assure Killian that the sword would be found weeks ago?”

A muscle ticks along Baylor’s jaw. “The task has proven more difficult than we originally anticipated. But we’re confident that will be changing soon.”

“For the sake of your pantries, I hope that’s true,” she warns, referring to the second shipment of grain that will be withheld if we can’t follow through on our end of the bargain.

“Once the sword is in your possession,” Baylor carries on, ignoring Fia as he addresses Thorne. “I want you to do something with it. You see, I’ve got a prisoner who has proved rather difficult to kill, but I believe the almanova could take care of that.”

“Forgive me,” Griffen chimes in, “but wasn’t the blade in your possession for many years? Why didn’t you take care of this problem before?”

His upper lip curls. “Circumstances prevented me.”

Baylor doesn’t elaborate any further, raising several questions in my mind.

“So, you want me to use the sword to kill your prisoner?” Thorne asks directly.

“I do.”

The God’s eyes turn hard. “And what do I get in return?”

Baylor crosses his arms, his lips twisting into a thin smile. “I’m assuming my gratitude wouldn’t be enough?”

Thorne shakes his head. “But there is something of yours I’d be interested in.”

Baylor’s eyes flash red as they dart to me, narrowing into slits. “Do tell.”

“I’ll kill your prisoner,” Thorne agrees, surprising me, “ if you remove Lady Iverson’s collar.”

My mouth drops open as my head swings in his direction. Even his advisers throw him curious glances, wondering if he’s lost his damn mind.

“You’ve grown rather fond of my pet, haven’t you?” Baylor asks, his tone deceptively soft.

My nails dig into Thorne’s hand, still resting on my thigh, as fear worms its way through my body. Baylor is going to make me pay for this later.

Thorne shrugs. “Perhaps I’m impressed by her talents, and I want to use them for myself.”

“And why should the collar stand in the way of that?” the king asks innocently. “Surely she could perform whatever tasks you need done while wearing it?”

“Come now.” Thorne gives Baylor a patronizing stare. “There are rumors about what that collar does. If I have any hope of using her services for myself, I’ll need it gone.” He leans back in his chair, appearing completely at ease. “And besides, it would still be her choice. Even without the collar, she could always refuse me. So, I guess it comes down to how much you trust your fiancée.”

Baylor is silent for a few moments, his unwavering stare glued to the God at my side.

“It’s something we can discuss, but you’ll understand if I need time to consider it,” he responds finally. “She is to be my queen, after all.”

“Of course.” Thorne’s hand disappears, leaving me suddenly cold. For a moment, I have the wild urge to pull it back.

He rises to leave, and his companions follow suit. When they reach the door, he turns back, sparing me a brief glance.

“My lady.” He inclines his head in my direction, ignoring the others.

Once they’ve all departed, leaving me alone with Kaldar and Baylor, the room grows silent. No one moves as I keep my gaze down, avoiding eye contact with either of them. Whether Thorne knows it or not, he’s left me in a precarious position. This wasn’t his mess to solve.

Kaldar is the first to speak, using his words to strike a blow at me. “Iverson appears awfully comfortable with the God of Death. Too comfortable, I think.”

Baylor stays silent, watching me with interest.

“Forgive me for suggesting this, Your Majesty,” Kaldar carries on, “but is it possible our dear Iverson has been compromised? For him to ask for such a thing, she must have given him reason to believe she would be open to his advances. For all we know, she could have already spread her legs for him. Infidelity does run in her blood.”

Barely a second passes before I lunge across the table, driving my dinner knife into the space between his fingers. The metal cuts clean through the tablecloth, digging into the wood below. For a moment, everyone is silent as the blade wobbles back and forth.

“You little bitch!” he shouts, leaning forward to retaliate.

“Leave,” Baylor orders, his tone cold. “Now.”

Kaldar sputters as he rises from his seat, storming out of the room. I move to follow him, but the sound of Baylor’s voice stops me in my tracks.

“Not you,” he snarls. “Sit back down.”

Doing as he demanded, I return to my seat and stare straight ahead.

“Is it true, pet? Have you been compromised?”

I shake my head.

He leans forward, his finger trailing over my arm. “Have you betrayed me?”

“No, my love.” My heart gallops, but I keep my voice even. “He’s only trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“Perhaps,” he murmurs, his tone deadly soft. “I was under the impression it was impossible for him to be close to another in that way, but maybe I’ve been misled. Have you allowed him to touch what belongs to me?”

A truly reckless plan forms in my mind. The risks are exponential, and even if it’s successful, it would change our relationship forever. But still, I can’t think of another way to throw off his suspicions.

“I’m loyal,” I insist, pausing to take a deep breath as I prepare to drop a bomb that could annihilate me too. I turn to face him now, my eyes brimming with accusation. “Unlike you.”

His head snaps back, and his hands slam against the table as claws sprout from his nails. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I lean forward, my voice low. “What do you think it means?”

“Is he the reason you’ve been distant lately?” he presses, his lip curling with disgust. “The reason you haven’t been coming to my bed when I call?”

I scoff. “Don’t pretend you’ve been lonely.”

Fury detonates behind his eyes as the meaning of my words sinks in.

“What happened with Bridgid meant nothing!” he snarls, rising from his chair. “And you can’t blame me for seeking comfort elsewhere when you’ve been distant for months! Your body may be here, but your mind is somewhere else. It’s not the same as before.”

“And whose fault is that?” I scream, unable to hold myself back as I unleash far more than I intended.

His eyes widen as he takes a step back.

The accusation seeps into the air between us, making it thick and cloying. Neither of us has ever acknowledged what he did to Leona. The silence pushes against my nerves, making my body rigid. I never meant to say that last part. It revealed too much of my hatred. I glance around, desperate for a way to reverse time and take back my words.

“Please,” I beg him, my voice small. “I buried my father today. Can we discuss this tomorrow?”

He watches me in silence, a million thoughts racing behind his eyes.

“Of course, pet,” he agrees finally. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”