I’ve certainly seen men get upset over less.
But a war this big that’s lasted for this long must be rooted in something deeper. Its blood deep. And considering the stakes, I have to imagine that ending the war will be significant. Not just for Nightworth, but for every court the world over.Tessa don’t fail us now.
I’m not as educated as I could be. I don’t have the right experience. My nose is typically shoved into someone’s garment with a needle and thread not far behind. Sure, I can’t exactly say what’s what around here, but Idoknow that other courts exist. Seven, in fact, as far as I remember my mother mentioning.
Though if I’m really that curious, I suppose I could just ask the manor’s historian for more information, couldn’t I?
“Miss Amber,” Darius whispers to me. It’s like he knows I was just thinking of him. “I’ve been meaning to mention a change to our arrangement.”
He spins me gently so I’m facing him. He taps my chin subtly, lightly, encouraging me to straighten my back. I’m trying so hard not to make a fool of myself that I misstep—and twist my ankle.
A softhissis all that leaves my immobile lips. If Darius hadn’t been holding my waist, I might have hit the ground—and made an even bigger fool of myself.
“What change?” I mimic his rhythm. How’s he doing that without any music?
Laughter bubbles around us, musical, whimsical. Nobody here seems to have a care in the world.
Though they have plenty of judgment by the chill of their stares.
Darius made ahem-hemsound that forced my eyes to meet his.
A startling thing to do in the middle of a ballroom of fangs.
“I’ve been tasked with studying our bond during feedings,” he explains. Every syllable feels like a stab. “I have to start tonight.”
My lips move. I’m sure I know how tomakewords. I just can’t get them to leave my damn mouth. I keep trying, keep failing, keep fumbling as I keep up with his steps and their stares. It’s enough to drive a girl nuts.
And then it all hits me at once.
I squeeze his hand. “Excuse me?”
Frustration, outrage—I’m experiencing the works. These fangs just do whatever they want, don’t they?
How does Tessa handle this?
No, don’t let it slip, I urge myself.They can smell it on you.
More laughter floats like silk into my ears. A pair of lips suddenly appear, breath hot and caked with that coppery smell that always comes from freshly fed fangs.
“Ah, you’re the new bloodbag for our dear Darius.” That’s the voice of nightmares. Not the bellow of a monster—but the whisper of a devil. “At least you’re dressed appropriately.”
Darius yanks me to his side. The woman stands tall enough to tower over me, wearing a Cheshire-cat-like smile. She’s pretty enough to be frightening. Or maybe she’s frightening enough to be pretty. I just can’t tell.
“Morgana don’t harass my food,” Darius warns.
Words that could warm any heart. I should besothankful he’s protecting me.
My nails prick the inside of my palms. I can’t believe he has the nerve to use me as a lab rat. What kind of self-absorbed fang is he?
Any kind, duh.
Her eyes glow. “Sorry, wouldn’t want to spoil your meal. I’m just excited to see your study in action.”
“As promised,” Darius began.
But Morgana was already tapping a sharp nail to her champagne flute. Her gaze pierces me with a criticism I understand because Darius has given me such a look. Her eyes drop to my gown and then to Darius’s outfit and then flit back over to my gown. I can’t tell if she’s impressed or pissed. It’s hard to tell through all that sourness in her expression. She gathers the attention of everyone in the ballroom, not that it’s hard without any music playing.
Bunch of weirdos.