Page 37 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)

Brenna

A wonderful flush heated Brenna’s olive skin.

Her breathing slowed, returning to normal as she clung to Tayen.

He deposited her into a chair along the edge of the room, before disappearing.

She watched Meara pass, Cerne’s hands on her waist. A moment later, her dancing partner sat beside her, offering her a plate loaded with sweets.

“You know me so well,” she said, grinning as she picked up something square and chocolate with two fingers. Cocoa and citrus burst across her tongue, the richness filling her mouth. She swallowed and smiled at her companion.

Tayen cocked his head. “Perhaps it is that we are the same.” Brenna’s heart warmed at the thought. It was the highest compliment, for she saw Tayen as a loyal and capable friend, everything she wished to be. He was beloved by everyone around them. That sense of belonging was her deepest craving.

They cleared the plate and she leaned back in her seat, hands folded over her soft stomach.

She was grateful for the gentle corset built into the dress for it allowed her to breathe while highlighting her curvy figure.

The boning was stitched with viridian up the sides and under her breasts, like vines coming out of the spray of ranunculus and peony.

For the hundredth time, she mentally praised Dyani for such a beautiful garment.

It gave her the confidence to raise her chin as she looked out over the crowd.

Her gaze snagged on intense russet eyes and glossy black hair. Cheekbones so sharp, he could never pass as human. Even with dancers crossing their sightline and intermittently blocking his stare, she felt as if he was stripping her soul bare. Her hand went to Tayen’s arm. “Who is that?”

Tayen’s sunburst hair whipped against his cheeks with how fast he turned to follow her gaze. His muscles tensed under her hand.

“Well?”

“It’s the king’s advisor, Emrys.”

Her brows furrowed and she tore her eyes off Emrys so she could gauge Tayen’s emotions.

He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “He is a prince in his own right, and serves Argyro using his blood magic. He is one of the most powerful faeries here, but he is not safe.”

The male stalked through the crowd toward them.

“What do we do?” she asked.

Tayen stood, drawing her up with him. “I will speak.” He didn’t have to say the rest - you keep quiet . She bit into her cheeks, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket’s arm. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on the approaching fae male.

Emrys slowed, his posture falling into a casual stance that did nothing to hide the predatory grace with which he moved. “Tayen,” he said, nodding in greeting, “and Lady Brenna. So glad you could join us at court.”

“Good evening, Lord Emrys.” Tayen’s voice was formal.

“How is the Autumn Court?”

Brenna felt brittle, listening to the males exchange pleasantries like the courtiers they were. Only her fear of sounding foolish held her tongue. Tayen placed his hand at the small of her back, rubbing small circles that reassured her.

“Quiet. We are preparing for Samhain with the summer court.”

“Perhaps I will attend this year,” Emrys said. “Lady Brenna, I noticed that you are an elegant dancer. Could I tempt you into another?”

She should decline. Tayen would sweep her away, keep her protected from anyone who was less than kind and trustworthy. But something about Emrys kindled a burning curiosity. In that moment, she desperately wanted to take a closer look at this beautiful, dangerous faerie.

“That would be lovely.” Tayen’s eyes darkened in warning. She patted his arm. “I will be back in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be right here waiting,” Tayen said, the wariness in his voice reminding her of Meara.

“Excellent.” Emrys’ smile was feline and painfully handsome.

Emrys held out an arm clothed in fine black fabric tailored to show the line of his sculpted figure.

She hesitated, her hand hovering before she placed it over his forearm.

Muscles rippled under her fingers, and a thrill coiled in her core as her awareness narrowed to that small point of contact.

The overhead light cast shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. He was made of sharp angles, the high contrast of midnight hair and pale skin, and stretches of lean muscle and sinew making her heart pound.

As they drew close to the line of dancers, he turned to face her, one hand going to her waist and the other taking her fingers in his. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She drew in a lungful of air and let it go in a rush before he guided her into the flow of dancers, and they began to move with the lilting music.

As if influenced by his presence, the music slowed, becoming haunting. He adjusted their speed, pulling her closer, moving one hand to her waist while the other gripped her hand securely. While Tayen’s touch had felt warm and comforting, Emrys’ burned like ice. She suppressed the urge to shiver.

“I must say, I was fascinated by your flame. Does fire craft run in your family?” he asked, dipping his head closer. A rogue strand of hair fell over his temple, marring his perfection in a way that drew her in.

Blinking, she opened her mouth and closed it, unsure of how to answer. There seemed no harm in a small measure of honesty. “I am not sure. I was adopted,” she admitted.

“Really.” One eyebrow rose, and with it, her heart rate.

Swallowing, she reprimanded herself for falling for a pretty face. She shouldn’t even be dancing with him, yet she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

“You do not know your family of birth?” he asked lightly. She shook her head, her brows pinching.“I apologize, that was rude,” he said, his voice velvet. “I simply desire to get to know you. ”

His merlot irises held hers, full of knowing intention. For a moment, her assumptions wavered. Her fingers tightened in his grip, and a warm smile spread over his face.

Sighing, she returned it with a tentative smile of her own. “It’s true. Though I had a wonderful mother who raised me. But I never imagined I’d be in the high court.”

Emrys listened with such attentiveness, she felt her boundaries fraying. Subtle reactions flashed over his face, too fleeting to interpret. “We are lucky then, for your presence brightens this court. It would be a cold night if you had not come.”

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks tinging pink as her gaze wandered downward, to his trim waist and then over shined shoes crossing a glittering stone floor striped with the shadows of dancing beings. “What about you? Have you been in Court Tara for long?”

Emrys hummed, a dimple pressing into his cheek as his expression turned thoughtful. “I was sent here as a youth. My uncle was Lord of Summer, and he insisted I spend time among civilized folk. I was to learn leadership from the high king, and I never left. I’ve served him most of my life.”

Brenna tilted her head, trying to guess at his age, but she didn’t have the courage to ask. Not without some alcohol easing her reservations.

His dimple reappeared and she focused on it as he spoke. “It’s my home now. I haven’t seen my father in a decade or two.”

“Do you wish to?” she asked gently.

His smooth expression never faltered. “No.”

The music shifted again, the tempo accelerating. Emrys' feet never stumbled, and his gentle hold guided her into the quicker steps.

“So you’ve seen my magic,” she said, her confidence rising with the swell of the music. “Tell me about yours.”

He twirled her and brought her back flush against his chest. They slowed, swaying in the center of the open floor. Other couples swept around, but her world shrank to just him.

Emrys brushed a chaste kiss over her knuckles. A gallant gesture, until he turned her hand and his lips closed over her fingertips in a languid kiss. Heat prickled up her arm.

With a smirk, he closed his teeth over the pads of her fingers with enough pressure to prick the skin. His irises dilated at the soft gasp that escaped her.

As he lowered her hand, the barest smear of blood painted his bottom lip. Brenna froze, unable to look away as his tongue darted out to capture it.

“Blood magic,” she whispered, fascination warring with her fear. Everything felt strained within her, waiting to see what he could do with a taste of her blood.

His brows pinched for a split second, confusion flickering across his face. It softened the sharpness of his features, making him more beautiful. His tongue dragged over his lip a second time and her own lips parted.

“I could make you feel things,” he purred. “Like happiness, or comfort.”

He pulled her into the steps of the dance once more, and as her feet followed his, a foreign warmth welled in her chest. She stumbled and he steadied her as she pressed a hand to her chest.

“Are you influencing my emotions?” she asked, trying to separate the alien feeling from her internal fire.

His chin dipped, his eyes dropping to her hand.

The music swelled into a final crescendo. The feeling intensified in a smokey, hazy heat. “That is incredible, but I’d prefer it if you didn't,” she managed to say.

The sensation vanished. His smile was unrepentant. “Of course.”

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “What else can you do?”

“I can tell if you are being deceptive.” He twirled her, pulling her close once more. “But not much else unless you’d like to give me your blood often and build up a connection.”

The suggestion shouldn’t sound appealing, but from his lips, it was pure temptation. She shrugged, feigning indifference as their feet slowed and the song ended.

The crowd thinned and their world of rustling skirts and enchanting music faded away. Emrys held her at a polite distance before he released her entirely.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He raised his chin, that delicious smirk returning. “Until next time.”

Brenna twisted, orienting herself to the room while searching for her friends. Tayen stood with his arms crossed, an inscrutable expression hardening his handsome features.