Page 32 of Of Nightmares & Fire (Elusive Umbra #1)

Chapter twenty-six

Kyros

She carries the relic with her. I know it.

Mavros has sensed it too. Connard has targeted my brother and me from our first meeting.

I didn’t realize how unwilling I would be to bend for this mission.

Every bitter memory flooded back to me the moment I stepped foot over the threshold, and every moment since, my acidic thoughts have only morphed into something heinous.

I’m not going to let my brother run off without protection. We have run out of time.

Astraea dances with all of the suitors, as her father wills, but even as she does, her gaze catches mine every time she faces the shadowy arched alcove I stand in.

She is everything I'm not, and as I watch her dance with men that aren't me, I think I'm realizing that she is so much more.

This mission has had many setbacks already, but she is the biggest one.

It seems like it is not just me drawn to her.

The more I have watched her, the more I have noticed her eyes on me.

“What’s the plan?” Mavros says as he comes to stand at my side.

He follows my gaze as he crosses his arms over his chest. Astraea finishes her dance with the preppy one, Cadoc.

Prince and the one that seems to have the highest favor of the king, now that the other asshole is taken out of the picture…

and now Astraea is in an otherwise heated conversation with her father about something.

My teeth grind as I watch the interaction.

Connard must feel my gaze on him because he turns then, and he and Astraea look right at us.

Either they felt our gaze, or it is us they are talking about.

“We will talk about it tonight, in my chamber. Give me an hour once I leave, then come meet me.” I tell him without taking my eyes off the king and his daughter.

It’s been a battle to constantly remind myself that’s who she is.

The vicious murdering king’s spawn. She can be nothing else.

I will get my hands on the relic tonight.

One way or another, it is leaving this kingdom with me, and we have to leave before whatever it is Connard has planned.

“Find out who is on the princess's guard tonight.” I growl under my breath. It doesn’t honestly matter who it is; I will kill them if I have to, but I am curious.

If the benevolent king is so concerned over his precious gem’s well-being after her so-called kidnapping, why is it that he puts the shittiest guards on her?

I have had a secondary patrol on her. Zinya and Viltarin have taken shifts, and only the princess herself has found out.

Only because Tarin had to expose himself. It was the right decision.

That’s another thing I have questions about.

Mavros, Viltarin, and I have all witnessed a surge in magick when she has been sleeping.

She has woken every time from a night terror that seems to have a visceral hold over her.

To anyone else, it would be just another night terror.

A nightmare that felt too real, but to me, to my brother—to those who know the magick we do—we know better.

Mavros doesn’t do anything nonchalant. Of course not, that would be too easy.

No, he walks right up to the royals and their guard.

He takes the princess by her hand and pulls her to her feet, whirling her into his arms in the most extravagant way, earning a yelp and smile.

The brightness in her eyes distracts me for a moment.

I am stuck in them, but the guard that stands nearest to the king reaches his hand for his dagger, and on instinct, my own tightens into a fist. The king’s eyes find me instantly.

We glower at one another before he calls back his guard dog.

I keep my eyes narrowed, blinking away from the king and to the bastard who just threatened my brother.

This has been the second time that particular guard has pissed me off.

Of course, this is not what I had in mind when I asked Mavros to listen to what they were talking about, but when I see movement in the shadows behind the curtain leading to the balcony, I realize Zinya and Mavros made a plan of their own.

Zinya is like a ghost in the shadows as she listens to whatever the king and that scumbag right-hand of his discuss.

However, the subtle smirk I see on her face gives me hope that she is getting good information while Mavros distracts the king from the princess.

It's short-lived, though. The night is late, and apparently the king has grown tired. He claps, gaining everyone’s attention, and Zinya disappears so no one sees she was as close to them as she was.

“Thank you all for enjoying tonight. Let us regroup in the morning for the favor ceremony and before we make our journey to the dunes. Get some sleep; the desert is not kind on the best of days.” His eyes hover around the room, pausing on me before a glint of wickedness enters his eye and curls his lip just a fraction into a mocking smile.

Anger simmers under my skin as I watch him turn his back on me.

“I think this whole thing is a tactic to get rid of Mavros. They are threatened by our presence here.” Zinya whispers as she comes back to my side, but I have not let my eyes trail away from the royals.

The princess jerks her arm away from the king's guard, spitting what appears to be venomous words at him before leveling the king with a vicious glare.

Her back is to me, but the king faces me, and I read his lips as he orders his guard to stand down.

‘Let her go. She won't leave now.’ What the fuck does that mean?

A dangerous energy swims through the air, wrapping around me, and I act without thinking of the consequences. Spinning on my heel, I aim for one of the servant exits before Mavros hooks my arm with his hand on my bicep.

“Where are you going?” Mavros growls, and I look down at where his fingers tug at the fabric of my clothes .

“Don’t fucking worry about it. One hour, Mavros.” He drops my arm with only a look, and we both know that something is changing. His brows drop as our eyes tell a story neither of us is ready to speak. He nods, and with that I storm from the ostentatious dining room.

Even though it has been decades since I was last here, I move through the kitchen and tight servant passages like I have made these steps my whole life. Everything, including the scent of the dust stirred up by my feet, brings back memories. Some good—some I wish I could forget.

I spill into the hallway two floors up, right where I know the main hall will lead the princess right to me.

I would say luck is on my side that I haven’t run into any staff, but as I round the corner, I see a man heading in the same direction as I am.

Grinding my teeth, I internally curse for letting my emotions get to my head and make me sloppy.

If I had been any quicker, I would have run right into him.

I have no choice but to stop my advance and hide in the shadows until the path is clear once again.

My mood fouls more as I realize who it is. He looks both ways through the hall before stepping behind a tapestry I know leads to the hidden passages within the walls that only lead to royal areas of the place. A passage that he should not know of.

Soon after, I hear light tapping footsteps heading toward me.

The same awareness that is only present around her creeps up my spine and causes my back to straighten.

The hall I stand in, which connects to the one she is storming through, is dark.

Minimal torch lights have been lit in this part of the castle.

Sinking back into the sandstone walls, my shadows react to my increasing agitation. Then I see her.

Her hair is up and wound tight into a crown, held in place by one of those damn hairpins.

I’ve noticed the way she messes with it and rubs at her temples throughout the night.

She hates them. I wasn't able to truly appreciate her beauty earlier in the night. With so many other things happening at once, so many eyes on us both. I do now, though, and beautiful is nothing compared to the way she looks. The dress she wears is stunning, and as I look at her, with the moonlight casting shadows over her features, it’s like I didn’t just watch her all night but am seeing her for the first time.

She slows as she comes closer to where I stand, and I almost think she notices me, but then she does something I don’t expect.

She stops.

Her hand wraps around the necklace that hangs low between her breasts.

I haven’t noticed the piece of jewelry before, and my brows drop as she lifts it.

She looks at the pendant for a long moment, and tears build in her eyes before she kisses it and holds it against her heart.

Taking a deep breath, she takes a few steps toward one of the long arched windows that line the hall, and she stands there frozen.

I’m not sure if she is thinking, praying, or waiting for someone to meet her, but regardless of the personal moment she seems to be having—I watch her.

The longer I let myself watch, the more dangerous my thoughts become. I am erratic —because of her. I’m not thinking; I’m overthinking and being completely irrational and nothing like myself. I am losing control— because of her .

My heart seizes in my chest when she turns around, having heard the same movement I did, and I sink further back into the shadows. I don't know what I'm doing anymore.