Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

WREN

If Wren had been worried about causing a scene dancing with Finn that was nothing next to what was happening now. Anselm would have a fit. Leander was graceful and powerful, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He moved like he was trying to seduce her and didn't care who saw it.

Whether his mission was to infuriate her, Finn or the entire court of Pelias, it was hard to say. He was succeeding at all three.

When Wren bristled, he smiled that knowing, self-assured smile and carried on regardless.

Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

As the dance began, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her skin. His breath was warm, teasing, and as he looked up at her he smiled.

‘It has been far too long,' he murmured. ‘And we left many things unfinished.'

‘You tried to kill me.'

But Leander shook his head with a soft, seductive laugh. ‘Not at all. I tried to kill Finn. You, I would have made all powerful, immortal, a goddess.'

A goddess, indeed. He wanted to wipe her out of existence.

‘Why are you here?'

‘I'm a peace offering.' He bared all his teeth with his smile this time and she jerked back. As he was still holding her hand in his, his sleeve jerked back, exposing the length of his forearm and she saw the bracelet.

It was wreathed with dark magic, shadows coiling under his skin. Othersight showed her iridescent lines like veins of some monstrous creature beneath his pale flesh. The coldness came off it in waves, repulsing her.

‘What's that?' she asked.

‘My penance,' Leander told her and spun her around as if it was all part of the dance. It left her dizzy for a moment and his arms caught her again. ‘No magic for me anymore. Not while I wear this. And how are you handling your leash, princess? No magic for you either, I see. This court frowns on our use of darkness, doesn't it? What would they say if they saw the wonders you can create?'

They stepped together, then apart, all part of the dance. There were so many people looking at the two of them now she couldn't stop dancing with him, or pull away.

Diplomatic incident. Those were the words Anselm had used. No matter what happened, she had to avoid a diplomatic incident. Leander was not making that easy.

The bracelet snagged her attention again, cold and merciless. She could see it leeching his magic out of him now, draining it away. It had to hurt. It had to. She remembered the shadow-wrought steel manacles he had used on Elodie back at the Seven Sisters and hesitated. Someone had a sense of poetic justice here.

But all the same…her eyes dragged back to the bracelet digging into his arm and her stomach tightened with disgust.

‘Who did that to you?'

The smile grew thin again. ‘My family. You haven't met the worst of us yet. Not one of us is ever to be trusted, not even your beloved. My father commanded it and my cousin obeyed. She obeys him in all things. There she is, look.' He whirled Wren around so she could see the beautiful older blonde woman talking to Finn. But not that much older, not really. She had that ageless beauty that made it impossible to really guess her age, and the sheen of magic sparkled around her. She leaned in close, her arm entwined with Finn's, and she laughed. She said something earnestly to him, her lips almost brushing his earlobe where Wren knew he was sensitive.

But Finn didn't return the sentiment. His burning eyes were fixed on Wren, meeting her gaze, as she danced with Leander.

He looked furious. As if he blamed her. But this was not her fault. How could it be? And how did she get out of it? To tear herself free and run would cause even more outrage and probably that same diplomatic incident everyone was so worried about. She was trying to be a princess here, for Elodie's sake, for all their sakes.

And Leander seemed determined to make her ruin everything.

But Finn…Finn was staring at her like he didn't know her. And like he didn't want to know her.

‘She's your cousin? And his?'

‘Oh yes. She adores Finn.' He laughed then, that familiar cruel laugh. ‘Hestia always gets what Hestia wants. And she's got her claws well and truly into my little brother already. Look, he's wearing her favour around his neck. She didn't waste any time giving him that. She made it herself. Isn't she talented?'

Wren didn't recognise the glass pendant. It was an Ilanthian design, aglow in the candlelight, shimmering with colours hidden in the dark glass. Beautiful but dangerous. There was magic tied to that as well, in it, around it, part of it, the othersight told her. She'd have to look more closely to work out what the spell was, but it couldn't be good.

Leander whirled her around and around, dragging her away from Finn's eyeline again and she could barely keep up.

Great light, she hated this dance. It ought to end by now. Surely. Her dance with Finn had only seemed to last moments but this nightmare went on forever.

‘Marry me, Wren,' Leander murmured, his voice a rumble in his chest that ran through her blood. ‘I'll take you away from here, take you to a place where you can be yourself, where everyone will appreciate you, and love you. Imagine their faces. Imagine the chaos we could cause together, you and I, little bird.'

Another twirl, and this time he pulled her in closer, his body pressed up against hers. He felt warm and welcoming and the shadows deep inside her seemed to purr with the thought of him. Of what they could do.

It was a trick, it had to be. She remembered the way her body had reacted to him in the forest, before…before he'd shown his true colours.

‘No,' she said, as firmly as she could manage.

‘Not sure I can hear you, my darling. Not a very adamant denial, is it?'

And then he kissed her.

It was just a brief brush of his lips to hers but it sent sparks through her body. She tore herself free the moment it happened but it was far too late.

Leander sank into the elegant bow that signalled the end of this particular dance and the music fell silent again.

Everything around her went horribly, expectantly still, like the whole court and every visitor there had been waiting for this all along.

Steel hissed against the edge of the scabbard, the unmistakable sound of a sword unsheathing, and the air in the ballroom shivered in expectation.