Page 109 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
A ripple of laughter followed them out of the theatre as they chattered about my performance.
While I tied my skirt around my waist, Sepher paused at the door, taking up most of its space with his large form. I etched it in my mind—the width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his hips, the mane of his hair, and the thickness of his thighs.
I didn’t need to commit to memory the glint of his eyes in the dim light, the way they held me for a short moment that felt closer to eternity.
They were already carved into my soul.
46
Once I was alone, I sank into Sepher’s chair. It was still warm, and I soaked that up as I checked under the table. The dagger and astrolabe were on the hidden ledge where I’d left them, ready for the killer to be lured here by the chance to see me alone.
I dragged in one deep breath after another, muscles jittery and spring-loaded, despite how hard I’d worked them. Would this work? What if they didn’t come?
Wondering, straining to listen, I poured myself a drink in Sepher’s glass and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I’d finished the drink and was picking at the splinters he’d left in the chair’s arms when the back of my neck prickled. Eyes on me.
I took another steadying breath and poured more honeyed whisky before throwing a glance over my shoulder, like it was a casual gesture.
The gleam of silver hair, light in the theatre’s gloom. So human-like, but tall and beautiful, he approached. He watched me, eyes wide and unblinking, like I was a ghost.
“Cadan.” I gave him a friendly smile, but my voice shook as I said his name.
The name of my sister’s killer.
I stood and grabbed the empty glass from his place at the table, tilting it in offering. In my left hand, the iron dagger was a reassuring weight, hidden in the folds of my skirt. If he tried to grab me and kill me as he had my sister, he wouldn’t find me so helpless.
Cadan tilted his head, a small frown between his eyebrows. “How long were you with the Gilded Suns?”
I chuckled like that was a strange question. He couldn’t know this was a trap, that I was expecting him and knew exactly what he was and what he’d done. Not until he was too close to escape.
And, part of me piped up, not until I knew for sure he was the killer. I’d got it wrong once before.
A shudder streaked through me at the thought. If I’d been successful that first night, Sepher would be dead. I’d have ended his life before getting the chance to know him. I’d have never felt all the things he’d opened me to. I’d have gone to my grave while the true killer walked free.
No. I needed to be sure.
Pouring Cadan a drink, even though he hadn’t answered, I shrugged. “I was with them for a long time.”
“Did you know…?” He shook his head and exhaled a breathy laugh. “But of course you did. You look just like her. Even the names… Zinnia… Zita. You’re her sister, aren’t you?”
Rage surged through me as he said her name. How fuckingdarehe?
I turned and offered him the whisky. Its golden surface rippled in my trembling hand.
He’d done it.
What he’d said so far was proof enough.
The bastard even had the audacity to look sad about it. Tears gleamed in his damned eyes.
My gift sizzled in my veins, begging me to point and curse him. But he was still too far away. If I revealed my hand now, he would escape. And cursed wasn’t as good as dead.
Patience, little witch. Patience.The memory of Sepher’s voice eased through me.
