Page 44 of The Immortal’s One (Bound to the Immortals #1)

DES

Stares bore into the back of my head. It takes effort not to scowl at the dozens of lesser Immortals suffocating me with their cloying perfume and cologne. Thane ordered me to be on my best behavior tonight. A lofty task. For more reason than one.

Lome sidles up next to me, looking refined in a dark tuxedo that’s a near match for mine. His slicked-back hair gleams under the candlelight hovering around the room. “You know, every bachelor in this room would gladly trade places with you if given the chance.”

I scowl at my meddlesome brother, but he’s not looking at me.

Lome surveys the ballroom in front of us with lazy indifference, but the lines tugging the corner of his smile betray him. He’s not as laid back as he’s pretending. None of us are.

The rebellion has proven they’re rash—unpredictable. They’d be fools not to use this opportunity to attack.

Immortals are just as susceptible to the effects of alcohol as humans, and the champagne hasn’t stopped flowing all night.

This ballroom is filled with inebriated Immortals who wouldn’t know up from down if rebels infiltrated the party.

They have powers, but so do the rebels. Every Immortal in this room is a sitting duck.

The Council never should have organized this event.

My fellow Originals are under the disillusion that this ball is a show of strength—that it proves we are unconcerned with the rebels’ antics. They believe it will discourage any more Immortals from rising against us.

They’re wrong, and I never should have agreed to put Darcie at risk by attending this idiotic party.

I lift my chin and school my features.

Be aloof. Don’t give them anything.

I tilt my head and slam back the flute of champagne in my hands, setting it on the tray of a passing server.

The meek female stares at me wide-eyed as I pluck another glass from her tray.

The remaining crystal flutes shake ever so slightly before she hurries away, but not before casting a nervous glance over her shoulder.

I grit my teeth.

I hate this .

Half of the lesser Immortals in attendance fear me and my brothers; the other half are practically sycophantic with their adoration. It’s sickening.

Thane, Lome, and I are powerful. There’s no denying it.

But we are flawed. Just like them. I despise the leadership role that’s been put on our shoulders.

But most of all, I hate how a young, inexperienced mortal woman threatens to unravel the cold facade I’ve erected around myself for over a century.

I inhale through my nostrils, fighting the urge to turn and search for a glimpse of the beautiful woman.

“You really do look like her. ”

Power flares in my fingertips. I stifle it.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

I should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut.

Dancing with Darcie was meant to show the room my indifference. The plan was to give lesser Immortals reason to believe Adir and Darcie’s impending kiss is legitimate, to confirm what I’ve been saying all along: Darcie Abernathy is not my One .

And I screwed it up.

“Are you planning to ignore me?” Lome asks after I don’t respond to his asinine remark.

“Yes.” I tilt back the second glass and swallow the champagne in one gulp, barely registering the taste.

He chuckles, undeterred. “Yikes. Something must’ve gotten under your skin. Or, should I say, someone. ”

My power flares again. The vase holding the extravagant floral arrangement behind me rattles.

“You were rude to Liana earlier.” I scan the area for another server, but Thane’s employees are too good at staying out of sight. I shouldn’t have been so forceful when I told them to stay away from Darcie.

Lome snorts. “Why should I care?”

“Have you not been listening to our big brother?” I lift a brow. “We’re supposed to make sure the lesser Immortals like us.”

Thane isn’t actually older than me or Lome. We spawned into existence simultaneously, along with the other six Originals. But it’s a hierarchy we naturally adopted shortly after our creation. It just felt… right.

“Liana likes you enough for the both of us.” He waves a dismissive hand. “And nice try, but I won’t let you change the subject. ”

I twist the crystal flute between my fingers, saying nothing.

His lips curl into a knowing grin. My hand twitches, eager to slap the irritating expression off his instigating face.

“Have you noticed how hardly anyone can keep their eyes off Darcie?” he asks, voice tinged slightly in awe. “She is truly breathtaking.”

I have, and it fills me with undeniable rage .

“No.” I keep my voice flat, resisting the urge, once again, to look out and find the beautiful woman. She ran away from me after my idiotic comment.

As she should have.

Lome continues as if I didn’t speak, “I’m telling you, Des. If you successfully convince the others she’s not your One , I can name at least five Immortals who would love the chance to pursue her.”

My abdomen clenches, and I swallow down bile. “Is this your way of trying to tell me you’re interested in the girl? If so, be my guest. Neither Eshe nor I would stand in your way.”

Touch her and you will lose your hand.

Lome’s easy smile falls away.

Remorse pricks my chest, but I smother the discomfort.

“You’re an ass, Des.” He shakes his head. “And a fucking idiot. No matter what you say, I know Darcie is your One . Your refusal to admit it isn’t going to help anyone. Especially not her.”

The muscle in my cheek twitches.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pitch my voice low, all too aware of the lesser Immortals circling us like vultures.

“No?” Lome doesn’t bother to keep quiet. “So, you’re not trying to drive Darcie away? You’re not trying to rob everyone of the security your bonding would give this family? The security it would give the world? ”

A few feet away, a young female Immortal’s jaw drops. Her companions turn to see what she’s gaping at. Seeing us, their eyes widen.

My nostrils flare.

Damn you, Lome.

I infuse power into my voice to let it carry to the ears of every eavesdropper in range. “Darcie is a charming young woman, but she is not my One . Trust me, I do not wish to sacrifice the safety of our community, or mortals, by denying my soul bond.”

Lome’s eyes narrow. “Bullshit. I know you, Des. I know she means something to you. Her soul calls to yours.”

Unbidden, Darcie’s image fills my head. I see her slender neck as she turned her head while we danced. The way her blue eyes light up when she smiles. The way her touch sends my body ablaze.

I inhale a deep breath to try to calm my thoughts, but the scent of her floral shampoo lingers around me like a taunting cloud, making it difficult.

“Des! Lome!” Eshe shouts.

My brother and I spin around.

Eshe’s white dress billows out behind her, catching the attention of every lesser Immortal she passes as she races over to where we stand.

Something about her expression makes my heart drop.

“Eshe?” Lome steps forward, concern evident in every line of his tense body as he scans his wife from head to toe. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

She takes her husband’s outstretched hands, stumbling.

A chill races through my veins .

I can’t remember the last time my graceful sister-in-law stumbled. Or the last time she willingly touched her husband. Lome’s eyes blow wide with his own surprise. If we weren’t Immortal, I’d think his heart would’ve stopped.

Eshe’s throat bobs. She pitches her voice low, but it’s pointless. We’ve already caught the attention of everyone around us.

“It’s Darcie.” Her eyes dart away from Lome, locking with mine.

Dread curls in my lungs, the sensation threatening to rob me of breath. “What happened? Where is she?”

Fierce anger mixed with genuine fear swirls in her almond-shaped eyes. “I don’t know. She’s gone.”