Page 91 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
It was a technique I’d used with Eric for years, simple but effective. Especially as so few people took a pretty, scantily clad woman seriously.
His eyes narrowed. “I know how to play poker, Zita.”
“I’m sure you do. But”—I ducked close, the tip of my nose brushing his—“I can’t stand the thought of her killer winning tonight. I need you to dominate the game. Because if you don’t, I’m going to find your sword and cut them all down.”
He bit his lip but couldn’t hold back his widening smile. “So bloodthirsty. How didn’t I see what you were the instant you first appeared on my stage?” He shook his head and his tail loosened from my leg. “Very well. Let’s begin our ignoble quest with a little financial revenge.”
I jerked away from him as though our quiet conversation had been an argument and circled the table.
They placed their first round of bets, each declaring what they were gambling—a sum of money, an item of jewellery, their prized stag. The words appeared on the chip as they tossed it in. Several folded, but Roark raised the bets, marking him as the person Sepher needed to beat.
When the first set of community cards hit the table, I touched the back of Roark’s chair. He arched an eyebrow, laying his hand flat. “Spying for Sepher, are we,pet?” The way he said it was sharp and glittering, like his eyes, with none of Sepher’s warmth.
But his breathing sped as he took me in, and I had no doubt he was remembering my performance from a week ago.
I chuckled and bent closer, hanging on his chair, careful not to touch his shoulders. “Why would I be helping him? You’ve seen what he’s done to me. And now you know what I did to him, too.” I smiled and canted my head, running a finger along one of his horns as I shot Sepher a glance. “It’s much more fun to frustrate him by touching his friends.”
Sure enough, a muscle in my prince’s jaw twitched as he watched us over his cards. It was a wonder his eyes didn’t burn a line through Roark’s horns, he stared so hard at the path my fingers took over their rough surface.
Roark snorted and murmured, “Hedoeslook pissed off. You play a dangerous game, human.” But he didn’t bother to disguise his leer as I angled towards him, the tight bodice of my gown barely containing my tits.
Still, he didn’t lift his cards from the table.
“Besides”—I shrugged and continued my path from his horn down the edge of his hairline—“I’m all the way over here. I won’t be going back over there to whisper in his ear like some little snitch.” I wrinkled my nose as if the idea disgusted me. “But if you don’t want my attentions…” I straightened and turned to Cadan in the next seat.
“Wait.” He took the bait, grabbing my wrist. “Stay a while.” He gave a cutting grin, gaze flicking from me to Sepher and back again. “I’ve never seen him look at me with envy before,” he said softly. “I like it.” He raised his cards as I draped myself on the arm of his chair.
I didn’t look straight away. That would be too obvious. Instead, I returned to his hairline and slid strands of his hair between my fingers. It was surprisingly silky. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but not that. Yet his skin was cold and unyielding under my fingertips, as though he were made of stone.
I smirked over at Sepher, like I was really was just trying to make him jealous, and that was when I glanced at Roark’s cards. A two and a seven. On the table sat a king, a three, and a five. Roark had nothing.
Internally, I laughed as I leant on his right shoulder as though for balance.
On my other side, Cadan held his cards close to his chest.
I braced my feet on the arm of his chair. His gaze slid to my legs, stretched between his seat and Roark’s, and as he licked his lips, his hand fell forward. A little further and I’d be able to see.
“Are you enjoying having some of your friends from Luminis here, Cadan?”
He jolted upright, eyes darting to mine as though he hadn’t realised he was staring. “I’m usually in Luminis, save for this extended trip to see Sepher.” He smiled at my prince, who didn’t return the gesture as betting continued around the table. “So I see most of them frequently.” He shrugged, and his hand moved that half inch I needed.
But if I looked down at them, he’d see what I was doing.
Shifting, I arched my back like I was just seeking a better position, but it had the effect I truly desired, making his gaze sweep down my taut body. Only for a moment, but long enough that I got a glimpse of his cards.
A flush—or the makings of one. We had to wait and see what the last two cards held. A good hand, if luck smiled his way, better than Sepher’s three of a kind, if—ifanother diamond hit the table.
“Of course,” I giggled, and nudged his elbow with my toes, “a handsome fae like you can live in the capital full-time. I forget.” Behind me, Roark grunted, but my attention was all on Cadan and sliding my foot up his left arm to his shoulder.
His chest rose and fell a little deeper. He was too absorbed with following my path up his shirt sleeve to realise I’d sent a signal to Sepher.
A cold touch came around my waist, and I only had time to gasp before Roark pulled me onto his lap. He grinned wickedly, like he enjoyed my reaction. When he glanced up, I understood he also fed off Sepher’s.
The table’s attention slid to us. Perhaps they were wondering whether the prince would let Roark manhandle his pet like this.
If he wanted to keep up the pretence that we weren’t working together, he would. If the killer realised we were laying a trap to uncover their identity, it would spook them and our chance would be lost.
Roark squeezed me, narrowing his eyes. “Why doesn’t he just order you off us?” He spoke loud enough that the rest of the table could hear.
