Page 19 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Zara

The band began to play, and I swung my gaze away from Xavier, who had just been in a strange conversation with Aria and was now in another intent conversation with Gunnar. When Aria stepped into his path, I thought he might have been walking this way and my body had flushed at the thought.

I blamed the wine.

The dance floor filled with guests, and I smiled broadly, but when I looked back for Xavier, he was gone. Cursing my distraction, I scanned the room in search of him.

“Looking for someone?” Julian's voice was light and teasing as he approached. I turned to him, a sheepish smile on my lips.

“No, just admiring the party and your guests,” I replied, half-lying.

I had been marveling at the diversity and unique styles of the Fae. Earlier, a couple with horns protruding from their heads had passed by, and I struggled to mask my surprise as they flashed friendly smiles in my direction.

Julian had noticed and spent most of the dinner enlightening me about the various Fae species in their realm, and I found myself fascinated by their world.

He explained that there were four main types of Fae: Faeries, like himself and Xavier; Pixies, tiny, winged tricksters who roamed the forest; Elven Fae, who had a more animalistic appearance; and finally, Witches, known for their insatiable thirst for blood.

Julian filled me in on the witches present at the party, saying that they had only invited those they trusted. He pointed out that not all witches were bad, despite the war and the current rebellion painting them all in a negative light. Julian said that, as long as he could remember, witches were often seen as weaker Fae and had faced discrimination. Morgana and her war had only intensified the discrimination further, pushing more witches to join her cause out of necessity, even today.

The idea of treating an entire group of people poorly just because they were different was troubling. Even I could see the injustice in that.

Julian’s sudden movement jolted me from my thoughts. His hand gripped mine with surprising firmness as he tugged me out of my chair. My eyes widened in surprise as I stumbled after him. I quickly downed the rest of my wine and placed the goblet on a passing tray.

Julian guided me to the dance floor, his smile widening as he spun me into the heart of the room. I found myself laughing as he clasped my hand and spun me around again, the lively music guiding us into another step.

For a prisoner, I was being treated exceptionally well.

Theo appeared, and Julian reached out to draw him into our spinning orbit. Theo’s surprised expression made me laugh, and I closed my eyes, letting the music wrap around me as I danced freely with the other guests.

When I opened my eyes, Julian and Theo had drifted a few paces away, huddled in a low, earnest conversation. Their eyes flicked toward me, and I grinned at them, but my smile faltered as I noticed the change in their expressions. Julian’s gaze was tight, his smile more of a mask than genuine warmth.

I stopped dancing as Julian approached, his smile faltering at the edges.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling uneasy.

“We need to leave,” he said, his tone rigid. “Xavier needs us elsewhere.”

“Why?” I retorted, my words coming out with a slight slur as the effects of the wine took hold. “I’m enjoying myself. Why doesn’t His Majesty join us here instead?” I raised an eyebrow and attempted a playful, somewhat drunken smile.

Julian’s smile was genuine for a brief moment before it dimmed again. “We really must go elsewhere, my lady,” he said, extending his elbow with a polite but insistent gesture.

I sighed heavily, but accepted his arm. As he guided me towards a door, I grabbed another glass from a passing tray, determined to take a piece of the party with me. I took a deep sip, the purple liquid spilling over the rim and dribbling down my chin.

“You should slow down,” Julian remarked, his tone light yet laced with concern. “Pulp wine is a lot stronger than normal wine.” He offered a handkerchief, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I accepted the cloth, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment as I dabbed at the mess. Julian only chuckled at me as he led me out of the ballroom and into the hall.

“So, where exactly does His Majesty want us to go?” I asked, frustration lacing my voice as we wove through the bustling hallway. Guards started to herd everyone back to the main room, and I looked at Julian again in question.

Julian didn’t respond, and his gaze flitted to the side, where a couple was engaged in a heated embrace. The tall male, draped in a dark, shimmering cloak, had his back turned, leaving only the fiery red of his hair visible. He had a petite woman pinned against the wall of a secluded alcove. He had hiked her dress, a cascade of deep orange silk, up around her waist, exposing the smooth expanse of her legs. Buried beneath the fabric, his handmoved urgently as the woman's back arched. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging desperately, while their mouths pressed together in a feverish kiss. My cheeks flushed hotly at the sight, my eyes quickly darting away.

Julian steered me onward, his grip firm but gentle as he guided me up a flight of stairs. As we reached the top, I recognized the corridor we headed toward. A sense of dread washed over me, and I abruptly stopped. “I don’t want to go back to the room,” I said, my voice a sharp whisper that sliced through the quiet. I wrenched my arm free from Julian’s grasp, stepping back.

“Please, Zara, I need to get you to safety,” Julian urged, his voice strained.

“Why?” I demanded, noting the sickly look on his face.

“Witches and Daka are on the grounds. They ambushed the castle. Xavier and Theo are handling it, but…” Julian’s voice faltered.

“They’re attacking now? Here?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Dedra and Aria are ensuring everyone stays in the ballroom, but we need to get you to your room.”

Anger flared within me. “And why couldn’t I also stay in the ballroom?”

“If anything were to happen, and they got into the castle, the king's room would be the safest. The other guests have magic and well…” Julian trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

“Go on, say it,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Your magic is suppressed. You’d be defenseless if anything happened. Plus, if you don’t go into the room, I might end up being roasted by Xavier for not following his orders. So, really, you’d be saving my life,” Julian said, his tone a mix of urgency and half-hearted humor.

My lips twitched at his banter. “Fine,” I relented. “But I want to go back to the ball afterward.”

“Fair enough,” Julian agreed, relief evident on his features.

*

Thunderous booms echoed from Xavier's bedroom window, each clap vibrating through the walls while lightning slashed through the sky in jagged arcs. The attack was raging somewhere I couldn't see. I turned from the window, my gaze falling on Julian, who paced the room with increasing agitation.

“Your guests have to be hearing this,” I said, settling into the desk chair near the window. A pitcher of wine had appeared when we arrived, and I poured myself another glass.

“We’ve spelled the room to block out the noise,” Julian said, his tone strained.

Of course they had. I poured another glass and extended it toward him. “You should drink.”

Julian glanced at the glass, then shook his head and resumed pacing. A second later, Xavier materialized in the room, and Julian sighed in relief. “Oh, thank the Fates. Is Theo okay?” Julian asked, his voice laced with concern.

“He is drained but otherwise fine,” Xavier gruntedandstumbled to his bed.

I scrunched my brow. I had never seen him stumble before, not that I had known him for very long. “You’re hurt,” I said, noticing the shadowed stain on his side that contrasted with the rest of his dark shirt. Julian’s eyes snapped to the darkened area, running to his side.

Xavier waved him off. “I'm fine. It was only a dagger to the side.”

I choked on my wine. Only a dagger to the side? He was kidding, right?

Xavier and Julian looked over at me, and amusement flashed across Xavier's face.

“She might be drunk,” Julian admitted, and I frowned at him. He ignored me and addressed Xavier again. “Don’t be stubborn. Let me look.”

Xavier seemed about to protest, but Julian was already tugging at his jacket.

“Alright, alright, get off me,” Xavier grumbled, pushing Julian back. He glanced at me and gave me a playful wink before starting to undress.

My cheeks heated. Did he really just wink at me, or was I imagining things? I looked down into my glass and saw it was empty once again. Maybe I needed to slow down. I returned my gaze forward and nearly fell out of my chair.

Xavier now had his shirt off, and his muscular chest was on display, but what had made me jump was the green jagged cut on his side. It was mixed with blood, and I shot to my feet.

Julian and Xavier both looked at me. I wasn’t sure what I had intended to do, so I slowly sat back down in the chair.

“Is it supposed to be green?” I asked, looking anxiously in their direction.

“No,” Julian said sharply. “It’s poisoned.” He stared at Xavier, his eyes filled with frustration and concern.

“Poisoned?!” I shrieked, my voice rising in panic.

“Worried for me, stalker?” Xavier purred, his tone teasing.

I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping to disguise my growing concern. “No.”

“He’ll be fine,” Julian interjected quickly, materializing a large leathery bag. “We have an antidote, but it’ll take longer to heal than usual since your magic is… well, anyway, ah, here it is.” Julian pulled out an inky black vial from the bag. It was thick and unsettling, making my stomach churn just looking at it.

Xavier’s scowl matched mine, but he took the vial from Julian’s hand, unstopped it, and downed the contents in one swift motion.

I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from Xavier’s exposed chest as Julian worked on the wound. I hadn’t realized how long I’d been staring until I looked up and caught Xavier’s eyes fixed on me.

“See something you like?” His lips curved into a cocky grin, and I twisted away, trying to hide my flushed face.

There was a knock at the door, and Gunnar stepped into the room. His eyes settled on me, and I offered him a lopsided smile. “Zara,” Gunnar said, his lips twitching. “I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to speak with you earlier. Have you been enjoying yourself tonight?”

A soft smile graced my lips as I replied, “I have, thank you,” before shooting a scowl in Xavier’s direction, whose smirk remained stubbornly in place.

Gunnar turned his attention to Xavier, his expression shifting to one of concern. “I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything that happened,” he said, his gaze drifting to Julian. “But it appears you’re in good hands.”

“Learned from the best,” Julian said, pride evident in his tone.

“I heard you are also a healer, is that right?” I asked Gunnar, shifting in my seat. A sharp, sudden heat radiated down my arm, making me wince, and I set my glass on the desk to try to hide my discomfort. That damn charm must have pinched me again.

“I am,” Gunnar confirmed, his modesty evident in his tone.

“Don’t be modest,” Julian chimed in with a grin. “Gunnar is the highest-skilled weaver in our realm.”

Another sharp pinch shot through my arm, and I tried to ignore it as I grinned at Gunnar, who was blushing slightly at Julian's praise.

“You are getting close to mastery yourself, Julian,” Gunnar said, returning the compliment.

The searing pain in my arm intensified, ripping a sharp cry from my throat. My hand shot to the charm, and all eyes locked on me instantly. Xavier shot off the bed and started to walk toward me. The pain was still increasing, and I stood from my chair, another whimper of pain escaping my lips.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s the charm… it’s starting to burn,” I managed to reply, shaking my arm in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort.

Gunnar furrowed his brow as he eyed my arm, seeming to notice the charm for the first time. Xavier moved closer, and I screamed as another wave of pain shot down my arm, stumbling backward. Before I could crash to the floor, Xavier’s arms were around me, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

“The charm, Xavier; take it off. Now!” Gunnar's voice cut through the haze of agony like a blade, and the sharp clink of metal hitting the floor followed. The searing heat that had consumed my arm lessened, but the pain lingered.

I whimpered, my eyes flickering down to my arm. Angry, blood-red burns marred my skin, and blood was pooling on the stone floor beneath me. I glimpsed bone, and my stomach churned at the sight.

“Julian!” Xavier shouted, but his tone softened when he met my gaze. His rough, callused hand cupped my face, and he brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. The unexpected tenderness confused me. “Julian is going to heal them,” he murmured, the worry clear in his gaze.

Julian knelt beside me, already uncorking a vial of purple liquid. His brow furrowed in concentration. “I need to sedate her,” he said, his words clipped. Gunnar now also stood over me, a hand hovering above my chest as he closed his eyes in concentration.

Xavier took the vial from Julian, guiding the liquid into my mouth. The bitter taste barely registered as the world around me started to blur. I met Xavier's golden-flecked emerald eyes, and his thumb brushed softly against my cheek before unconsciousness claimed me.