Page 6 of To Sway a Demon Heart

“I do,” Draven said, giving me a piercing look. His warm, brown eyes were looking at me intently, almost as Tyr’s had done earlier, and the look was not entirely devoid of desire. “I confess I have been hoping for some time to converse with you properly. I’ve been quite taken with you in the council meetings.”

“With me?” I asked, laughing lightly at the compliment. “I don’t believe I’ve done much to earn your admiration.”

“On the contrary,” he disagreed, looking at me seriously. “You are poised and passionate. I’ve seen you working in the halls and receiving rooms day in and day out. Most nobles in this court wouldn’t stoop to dirtying their hands. You seem eager to dive in and burn it all to the ground.” His smile had returned, and this statement was made with a tone of appreciative amusement, rather than criticism.

“I believe in the King and Queen’s vision for the Darklands,” I replied with a shrug, feeling myself blush under Draven’s steady gaze.

“As do I,” he said, giving me that same heavy stare. I felt my heart thump as the Pull balked, reminding me I had a mate.

As if drawn by that same feeling, Tyr appeared at Draven’s shoulder as the song ended, looking icily at the shadow demon.

“Lady Brigid,” he said, a wide grin splashed across his face as he held out a glass of bloodberry wine to me. “May I steal you for a moment?” He was clearly in his swaggering lord persona, and I gave him a tight smile as I curtsied to Draven.

“Thank you for the dance,” I said, offering him a genuine smile and taking the glass Tyr held out to me.

“It was my pleasure,” Draven replied, bowing and placing a light kiss on the back of my free hand. “I hope to do it often.”

He bowed politely to Tyr, then strode off, shoving his hands in his pockets. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at the interruption, but Tyr dragged my attention back to him before I could study the departing lord.

“What was that?” he asked, sipping his own wine and raising a brow at me expectantly. I took a swig of the bubbly red liquid, which in concentrated doses resulted in uninhibited truth-telling. Tyr had been dosed by Carnon’s head of staff when we were unsure of his loyalties, and I was surprised he could still drink the stuff.

“What was what?” I replied innocently, mirroring Tyr’s expression. He still wore his indolent grin, but I knew him well enough by now to read the hidden fury beneath the smile. “Lord Draven asked me to dance.”

“And then talked your ear off,” Tyr pointed out. “He’s trying to get you to support his claim to Shadow.”

“You knew he was entering the tournament?” I asked, trying to decide how indignant I should feel about Tyr’s accusation. I knew Ishouldbe offended that he was implying that Draven wasn’t really interested in me. But the damn Pulllikedthat he seemed jealous.

Tyr took my glass, placing both on a nearby table, then offered me his hand. “Dance with me.” It was a command, not a request, one that I should have refused on principle alone. But my broken heart thumped again wildly, wanting desperately for this male to make me his.

“We can talk outside,” I argued, trying to control my rampaging need and keep my brain in control of my body. Tyr had rejected the bond. We were forced to work together now. He didn’t want any of this.

“But I’d like to dance,” he replied, stepping closer so that his scent, something spicy and sweet like cinnamon, wrapped around me. “Please, Brigid?” The request was softer, almost pleading, as if the Pull was riding him so hard after seeing me dance with another that he needed to do something to quell it. My soul ached to be near him in the same way, so I let myself give in and took his hand.

The hand around my waist was warm and firm, similar to Draven’s but somehow moreright. His other clasped mine gently, his thumb tracing circles on the back of mine as he began to move to the eerie music.

“Draven can’t be trusted,” Tyr said, pulling me closer to speak low in my ear. My body thrilled in our nearness, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t about anything more than work. “His father was one of Scathanna’s most loyal cronies.”

“Just because his father is bad, doesn’t mean he is,” I replied, giving Tyr a pointed look. His own father had been a hateful male, but I knew Tyr was different, even if he pretended to the world that he was every bit the same monster as his sire.

Tyr pressed his lips tightly, clearly understanding my meaning. “In this case, it would be wise to be cautious,” he said, spinning us with the rest of the dancers so that my skirts flared out around us. “I’ve heard rumors.”

“Rumors don’t mean anything,” I protested, again thinking of Tyr’s own reputation. And Carnon’s. He was known by many as a fearsome, merciless Demon King, especially in Shadow and Blood, but the stories were mostly a smokescreen to keep those courts in check. “What is the real reason you dislike him, Tyr? Is it that he danced with me?”

A muscle ticked in Tyr’s jaw, and I knew I had hit the mark. “I don’t need another reason to distrust him,” he said, pulling me a little closer, “but yes.”

Anger and joy warred in me at his words, the Pull celebrating this victory. I let the anger come to the surface when I spoke next. “You walked away, Tyr,” I reminded him, letting my voice grow cold. “I offered you everything. You don’t get to be jealous now.”

“I walked awayforyou,” he hissed, anger rising in his voice and cheeks as he glared down at me.

“You walked away foryou,” I pushed back, feeling his hand tighten around mine almost painfully. “You’re the one with wounds you won’t let me see. Won’t let me help.”

“You can’t help,” Tyr growled, as the song came to an end, swearing as the couples around us applauded and began to move away.

“Good night, Tyr,” I said coldly, feeling that icy pain in my heart return. I pulled my hand from his and stalked away, determined to go to my rooms and have a little cry and then complain to Elara about the stupidity of males.

Tyr followed, catching me around the waist as I turned the corner into the hallway outside the reception hall. “Brigid,” he cursed, pushing me back against the wall so our bodies were flush. My heart pounded again, the icy pain and fiery anger forming a pressure in my chest that would explode any second if he didn’t get off me. “Gods damn it, just listen.”

“No, you listen,” I snarled, grabbing his lapels as much to hold him to me as to anchor myself in the moment. “You tell me you are broken, that I don’t want you. That I deserve better. Then you become jealous and territorial when another male perhapsdoeswant to give me his heart. You can’t have it both ways, Tyr. Either you have me, or you let me go.”