Page 95 of FoolSilver
His shoes were very fine. They probably cost more than a working family earned in a year.
“What can I do for you, King Xander?” I wasn’t going to call him a fucking saint.
He gave me a savoring look, and the hunger in it crawled over my skin. I wanted nothing more than to turn and walk—beforemy Coldiron armguard decided for me, before it slid into a blade and buried itself in his gut.
“Not a king.” His mouth curved. “Xander. As you’d name an equal.”
“That’s well above my station, sir.”
“The heirs are giving you crumbs.” Amusement glittered in those tiger-ember eyes. “A dress to decorate you. A family heirloom to chain you.”
My heart stumbled. I’d taken the necklace for what it looked like—a string of sapphires and diamonds, nothing more. I’d been a miner; diamonds were only a prettier kind of rock to me. But a family heirloom—Aelindor’s family heirloom—around my neck, and no one had said a word. I fought the urge to lift my hand to it.
Standing this close to that monster, I regretted every inch of the million-dollar costume. I should have ignored the heirs and worn my cadet greys. But they’d wanted exactly this—wanted Xander to find me—and they’d wanted one more thing besides: a debut, a way to walk me into the high circles of the three kingdoms’ command without ever putting it on paper. I’d sat in classified briefings already. This was meant to be the next rung, lifting my station without a single order anyone could point to.
So I’d snared the monster’s eye on the first pass. And now he had no intention of letting it go.
“It’s just a nice dress, sir,” I said. “And diamonds are only another kind of rock.”
He laughed in appreciation. “There’s my girl. You don’t disappoint, Lady Max Morningstar.”
He kept setting that name on me. What the hell was he doing? Morningstar was the surname of the King of Hell—Lucifer’s own—and no creature living was fool enough to claim it.
I held my face still while my blood ran hot, hate pumping through my veins with every beat. I had to get clear of this, or I’d wreck everything we’d built tonight. Desta had melted quietly into the background, her work done.
“Sir, I have a soldier’s duties to attend to,” I said.
He arched a brow and swept a hand out, courtly and certain. “Will you do me the honor of a dance first?”
Shit.
How did I shake loose of this without making a scene, without igniting his suspicion? The plan—let him see me, then vanish—had come apart in my hands. But one thing I knew down to the bone: I would not let this monster lay a single finger on me. I would not fucking dance with him.
“I’d like to talk to you about Missy.” His tiger-amber eyes pinned me. “Your absolutely adorable little sister.” A pause, deliberate and cold. “Please, Lady Morning.”
Chapter 37
Max
He reached me before I turned.A wash of heat at my shoulder, the air drawing tight. Then Drakken was there, planting himself at my side, near enough that Xander had to leave off pressing his claim and lift his head.
“There you are.” Drakken’s voice came out a vicious purr, all silk over a growl. “I was beginning to think someone had stolen you out from under me, Max.”
Every heir in the room was straining to reach me, to pull me out of the Collector’s orbit. Drakken had gotten here first.
He gave Xander a short nod. “King Xander, excuse us.I’ll be claiming this dance with my lady.”
My already-pounding heart skipped a beat or two before it slammed back into rhythm.Drakken had claimed me in front of the Saint, as if the matter were already settled.An excuse, nothing more than a lever to pry me from the Collector. I knew that. My heart didn’t seem to.
Heads turned our way. The silent contest of power between the two of them was plain to anyone with eyes. I had never been the kind of woman who liked being fought over, but this wasn’t that. This wasn’t two rivals at each other’s throats over a prize.This was Drakken putting his body between me and an enemy reaching to stake a claim.
“Lady Morning has promised me this dance,” Xander said, and Drakken cut me a glance that demanded, plainly, whether I’d lost my mind. My face went tight. “Now. Will you excuse us, Prince Dragon?”
I swallowed. I’d have to dance with him. He’d dangled my sister, and I needed every scrap I could pull out of him.
“Shall we, my lady?” Xander’s tone was courteous and smug in equal measure.
He held out his hand, and I had no choice but to lay mine in it. The one small mercy was the gloves. No skin against skin.
