Page 108 of Taken By the Lord of the Nocturne Court

Anatole stumbles away and falls into two dancing women, who yelp but manage to keep him upright as the music breaks off without warning, and all the guests retreat, as if they feared I might strike them next.

“You animal!” Anatole yells, his lip curling as he wipes blood from under his nose.

Luke takes a few steps my way as the whispers rise into a murmur, and I reach back, finding his hand. I’m not used to this kind of confrontation. Quiet kills? Yes. This? Why can’t I cut off Anatole’s nose, banish him, and be done with it?

“You should have kept your lips away from my promised!” I cut in, even louder, and the tone of the whispers alters as the figures around us blur, just shadows at the edge of my vision.

“We were merely dancing,” Anatole scoffs, but it’s for the public’s benefit, because Luke shakes his head at me with a scowl.

“And that was too much already if you can’t keep your hands and tongue where they ought to be.”

Luke clears his throat and squeezes my hand, but the rage inside is like a winter storm, cold and savage. “It was extremely inappropriate.”

I want Anatole to never as much aslookat my lover again.

Tristan clears his throat, pushing through the crowd with a tense smile. I cannot avoid the looks of disgust thrown my way when my gaze seeks him out, but what was I expected to do? Stay courteous and explainto my promisedwhy I’m not allowed to protect him from a pervert?

Kyranis would have, but I’m not him. I don’t deliver blows with smug words but with my fists, and I need Luke to know that I will always stand by him and never sacrifice his wellbeing for manners.

“You’re to stay away from him for the nextcentury,” I roar with my gaze pinned to Anatole. “If he enters a room, you leave it. If he is spoken about, you stay silent. If you hear he was eating stew, you don’t have it for a week, so you don’t even touch the same soup! Is that understood?”

Anatole pouts, eyeing me with reptile eyes. “Challenge accepted,” he says and pats his rapier. “And if you lose, you will give him to me for a night.”

I…what?

“Spit that out, you worm,” I growl and take a step closer, but he pulls his blade halfway out, sending the courtiers farther away. I hear chuckles, excited whispers, as if no one at all is on my side in this conflict, when this man, this pathetic pervert doesn’t deserve the honor of being cut down with the Gloomdancer.

It’s like reliving the experience with my brother all over again. Anatole isn’t interested in men either, yet he’d take Luke just to spite me.

“I’m not anyone’s property, to be ‘given’!” Luke says, shaking his head, and the silver antennae attached to his tiara tremble. He’s so perfect today, and thismaggotis spoiling his experience of the wedding ball.

Anatole shrugs. “Oh really? Prince Kyranis will own you after the bond is sealed. He can do with you as he pleases, and you will have no choice in the matter.”

I can barely see straight, but I restrain my anger, for Luke. “I would never force my Dark Companion into anything he doesn’t want. Don’t measure me the same way you measure yourself!”

“Oh, please. We all know how your father treated his Companion after the Lordess’s death.” When Anatole focuses on Luke, I want to gouge his eyes out just so he never does that again. “That poor man had bruises for years.”

Truths twisted to serve Anatole’s purpose. Yes, my father argued with James often, but he didn’t abuse him.

“Prince Kyranis is not his father,” Luke says through gritted teeth. By this point we are a spectacle, but I don’t even care. “I could even leave this Realm after the wedding if I wish to.”

The gasps around us deafen me, and the questioning eyes turn to me, but Anatole gives a cruel chuckle.

“You think the Lord of the Nocturne Court would let you, a human, leave once you’re bound?”

I hate that instead of answering, Luke gives me an uncertain glance. As if Anatole’s words are sinking claws into him.

My legs weaken under me, and I pull Luke close, wrapping one arm around him. “What does it matter if I never intended to let Luke go? Why would he even want to leave?” I say and challenge the blond bastard with my gaze. Maybe he will strike? I could end his life and call it self-defense.

I know I said the wrong thing when Luke pulls out of my arms with an uncertain expression, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“It’s about it being my choice,” he whispers, and I want to whisk him far away from here so we can talk about it instead of facing the gossiping crowd.

Anatole makes a point of assessing the state of his nails while his other hand rests on the rapier. He’s a fucking master of ruining things, I have to give him that. “Are we having this duel or are you admitting defeat?” he asks impatiently, prompting another wave of chuckles from our audience, as if his disgusting proposition is a game, not real-life stakes. His sister Elodie even leans in to whisper something to him with a smile as they both eye me like two snakes.

Maybe for people for whom lovemaking is a pastime, this challenge is a trifle, a way to end a scandalous situation, but I wouldneverwillingly put Luke in this kind of situation.

Only already I have.