Page 92 of This Dark Descent
Reid had returned, a glass in each hand, and he was staring at her like he’d never seen her before. “Why were you talking to her?” he demanded.
“Talyana?” Mikira asked, thinking him jealous. “She’s my friend. Why?”
A scowl so vicious tore across Reid’s face that she recoiled. “Because she’s an Anthir sergeant.”
CHAPTER 32
ARIELLE
ARI WOVE HERanger deep inside herself and held it close, no matter that all she wanted was to rip that satisfied smile off Rezek’s face. Better yet, she wanted Mikira to do it, and she would when she won.
And if she fails?asked the voice.Will you then?
Ari ignored it, peering up at the enchanted birds and skylights dotting the ceiling. “Is there a room like this in your home too?” she asked Damien. Her arm was looped through his, and she wore the dress he’d gifted her. Her hair she’d left down in a dark wave of curls, her olive skin offset by the gold necklace he’d lent her and matched by the emerald ring. She couldn’t resist spinning it about her finger.
“We never built a ballroom, no,” he replied. They stood in a circle of guests, most of whom were wrapped up in the horrid story the crown prince was telling about the time he supposedly brought the Celairen ambassador to tears. The group had swelled so much with those eager for the prince’s attention that they had relative privacy. “Mostly the greater houses have them. They were built for this exact occasion: hosting the Illinir balls.”
Ari made a considering sound. “You’ll need one.”
As the new owner of the Illinir, Damien’s house would automatically take the Kelbras’ place in hosting the final ball. Only one race stood betweenthem and that possibility, between her and the enchant license Damien had promised her. They were so close.
“That’s an awfully bold assumption,” said a cool voice.
Rezek had his back angled to the prince, effectively cutting them off from his cousin. She felt Damien stiffen, and she reached reflexively for the magic simmering in her gut, but Rezek only looked at her as if seeking something he couldn’t see.
“Everything you are is built on a foundation of misfits and outcasts. Society’s dregs.” Rezek let out a low laugh. “Your family is less than the dirt on my shoes. Do you think a few verillion fields and distilleries make you equal to us? You’ll never be anything but vermin.”
He leaned close to Damien. “Just like your mother.”
Damien’s eyes widened a fraction. A breath, two, and Ari watched him seal away his rising anger. Rezek waited, a twisted glee in his eyes, but Damien held himself steady. It would take more than that to break him.
“Rezek!” An older man cut toward them, the crowd parting swiftly.
“High Lord Kelbra,” Damien said as both he and Ari bowed. Eradas Kelbra shared his son’s blue eyes and sharp features, but that was where their similarities ended. While Rezek was pale, Eradas was gilded, from the glow of his skin to the gold of his hair and the rings circling his fingers. And where Rezek smiled like a shark baring his teeth, Eradas’s face was a mask of stone.
“I thought I made it clear you were to attend me this evening.” Eradas didn’t spare Damien and her a glance. “The Ranoen ambassador is waiting.”
In those short seconds, Rezek transformed. The wild delight in his eyes vanished and his smile pressed into a firm line. “I apologize, Father. I got distracted by business.”
“Your brother had no trouble understanding the importance of international negotiations,” Eradas said. “Why is it that you struggle to grasp the concept?”
A muscle feathered in Rezek’s jaw. Damien had told her that he was achild when Rezek’s older brother, Warrick, vanished, but people still spoke of it: the day Eradas Kelbra lost his golden heir. He said they liked to whisper that Rezek had known no matter what he did, his father would never let him win their family Ascension, so he’d made his brother disappear, leaving his father no choice but to name him heir after killing Damien’s mother.
“Well, boy?” A growl cut Eradas’s words. When all Rezek did was bow his head, a look of disgust flickered through his father’s stoic face. “Are you capable of finding your own way to the drawing room, or do you require help with that as well?”
“No, Father. I’m coming.”
Rezek gave them a final, chilling look before following Eradas into the crowd.
“I don’t know which of them I detest more.” Damien straightened the sleeves of his cuffs.
Ari captured his hands in hers, stilling the fidgeting movement. “Something you and Mikira have in common, I imagine. At least he listens to his father.”
“For now,” Damien muttered.
“Speaking of detestation.” Ari’s gaze had latched on to Loic where he stood by the far wall, tall enough that he loomed over much of the party. Eradas had stopped long enough to acknowledge him, and several other nobles attended him, more than one of them brushing their fingers across his arms or laughing obnoxiously at things he said. “Your brother is here.”
When Damien’s eyes found him, Loic grinned and hefted his wineglass. Then he downed the ruby liquid in one gulp and wiped it from his lips like blood after a feast.
