But dang it, Roux had been involved in a deep conversation with the Phoenix for the past ten minutes. What were the two chatting about?
Focus.Only an idiot wasted a golden opportunity like this. “Tell me about the Ation crown,” she said. “I’ve felt its come hither vibe and heard it’s cursed. Is it?”
“Yes and no,” Lucca replied, the braids in her hair slapping together as she wobbled her head back and forth. “To see it is to want it. But once someone is crowned, they cannot shed it until their death. So, they end up dying quickly because others want it. And not just because of the crown’s intense draw. Legend claims only the queen will be freed from this realm. Your Astra’s offer fed the tale, growing it into a beast. Why else would so many survivalists be willing to die for the chance to win a night with a surly warrior and his chopping block?”
“He isn’t mine,” she muttered, casting her gaze his way. He was fully engaged with the Phoenix. He kept his body angled toward hers and his eyes on her face. Hers. Not Blythe’s. And he even clasped the other woman’s wrist, locking her in place, as if he couldn’t bear to part with her.
Hey! He was touching her. Willingly.
Was he enjoying it?
Blythe curled her hands into fists. Prickles ran the length of her spine, and she couldn’t understand why. Or what they stemmed from. Because it wasn’t jealousy. Nope. Not even the tiniest bit.
“Whatever floats your boat,” Lucca said, palms up and out in a gesture of innocence. “No judgment over your appallingly terrible taste, I swear. Anyway. My turn for info. Tell me everything you’ve gleaned about the Astra’s blessing task.”
To say anything might well be a betrayal to Roux. But to say nothing was to end a fruitful Q and A.
Shouldn’t shewantto betray the Warden? Yes. She should. So she would. “He’s gotta cut out the queen’s heart.”
“Yeah. With a trinite blade. That’s public knowledge around here. What else you got?”
Hold up. He had to use trinite? Blythe pressed the tip of her tongue against an incisor. Erebus had conveniently left that part out.
“What happens when he fails?” Lucca added.
Ugh. Forget the guilt. “If he fails, he and his buddies get cursed,” Blythe forced herself to admit. But she didn’t elaborate. “Your turn. What can you tell me about Penelope, queen of the wraiths? You might call her Miss Murder. After she tagged me with her jewel, she stole my favorite dagger, and I want it back.”
“Well, I know she guards a treasure room underneath her palace, and the only entrance is in her bedchamber. At least I think she does. No one had ever returned to verify the rumor.”
Okay. Good to know. Now they were getting somewhere.Gotta get to that treasure room.And she needed to do it before the tournament ended. Now, her course was set. She must win the crown and kill Roux before he killed her.
Before she could stop herself, she glanced his way again. This time, their eyes met, and her breath caught. He was glaring at her, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Uh, was he angry with her? Had he guessed her thoughts?
The background music changed, the pounding beat becoming a siren’s soft melody. Her questions ceased to matter. Mmm. She liked this music. Slow and haunting. Electric. Her limbs trembled. In her veins, blood raced and heated.
Suddenly every desireBlythehad ever harbored for the Astra surged to the fore. She needed to get her hands on him. Now.
Maybe he felt the same way. His features softened, his eyelids hooding and his lips parting. He looked...hungry.
“Does your favorite weapon happen to be a—” Lucca moaned, then giggled and fanned her cheeks. “Uh, did everyone in the world get sexy all of a sudden? Because wowzer. Even the Astra is starting to look good to me.”
“He does look good, doesn’t he?” she replied with a moan of her own. Her insides were fluttering, heating. Demanding. Pull her gaze from the warrior? Impossible. “Very good.”
Lightning flashed as Roux stalked across the distance, closing in on her. He stopped directly in front of her, his scent making her head swim. “Dance with me,” he rasped, extending his arm.
Dance? With him? Not what she’d expected him to say. Wings rippling, she placed her fingers in his. “Yes.” No other reply was acceptable.
18
THE FEASTING
Something about the melody...
Roux had never danced with anyone. Never even swayed to music when he was alone. He wasn’t sure he knew what to do, but stop this? No. Uncaring about his audience, he tugged his gorgeous harphantom close and wrapped his arms around her.
Oh, the softness of this female. Lush curves pressed against him. Pleased him.
He ignored the muted warning in the back of his mind. Forgot the Phoenix. Lost track of everything but Blythe’s smooth palms skating up his chest, locking at his nape. They swayed together.