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Chapter Seventeen

Chloe

"We have to go to this?" I asked, trying to keep the plaintive whine from my voice.

I only partially succeeded.

"Yes, we do," Silas said. "It's mandatory for someone like me."

I peeked through my side of the clothing rack to catch his eye. "Yes, but the last time we went to something like this, you got attacked. They tried to kill you."

Silas pulled up his shirt. "It's been almost of a week. I'm fine now. See? How many times do I have to tell you dragons heal faster than humans. No marks left, darling."

I glared at him. He knew I was still growing accustomed to there being a thing between us. Calling me darling was not something we did. Not yet. Whatever it was, was too new for that. So, by saying it now, he was patronizing me. I didn't take well to that.

"It's not the fact you got hurt, though I don't like that either," I admitted, trying to not let my worry seep through more than it had. Worry for a man I'd only just begun to get to know. "Silas, he tried to kill you. Because of me. At a party where you ran into one another by accident."

"What does that have to do with it?" he asked, genuine confusion bunching up his handsome features.

I reached up and soothed the furrows away, rolling my thumb over the stubble on his cheek. He'd started growing it out, and I was coming to like it. The grays in his beard matched those in his hair.

"He knows you're going to be at this Peace Gala—stupid name by the way, could she try something more original? He can plan for it this time, which means they may actually succeed!"

Silas' disagreement was obvious on his face. "He won't try anything."

"Why not? How can you be sure? You didn't think he would try anything at Aram's party, and look how that turned out. What if he goes for me this time?"

One of his massive paw-like hands cupped my chin, pulling my head up, so he could look down at me. His storm-cloud-like eyes swirled, their depths obscured as always.

"Because my message was rather clear, for starters. But also because it's at the palace. The sovereign's guards are all over. They won't stand for any of that."

I thought about pointing out we could still be attacked coming or going from the gala. The flight over was short, but it could still happen. But it would be useless. Silas was confident that, for now, things were calm.

"We also won't be traveling alone," he added. "Our family will go as one, if that helps?"

"It does," I admitted. "Other than your father. Will he even let it happen?"

Silas shrugged. "I'll probably be last in line, a protocol insult, but I don't give a shit about that."

"All right."

"Good." He leaned into the rack and stole a kiss before I could even react. His eyes danced with mischief as he pulled back. "Now, find yourself a dress to wear."

I laughed and started looking through the various formal dress options on the racks. Jennsen was currently busy with another customer, so I couldn't avail myself of the old tailor's help. I'd been surprised we were coming to the same shop, but according to Silas, Jennsen's was the place. He rarely went elsewhere because Jennsen had the best.

Several numbers caught my eye, but I didn't pull any from the racks. They were nice, but none was the right one. I knew I needed to pull the look off completely, whichever one I went for. There would be far too many dragons there, and I had to impress almost all of them. I knew that.

But I didn't care about it. There was only one dragon I found myself wanting to impress, and he was standing on the other side of the rack from me.

It wasn't how I should be feeling. I should be pushing him for information, learning all I could about dragons and their weaknesses and not looking for a dress that made my ass pop. My focus was fading. The mission becoming less important with each passing day.

The memory of how distraught I'd been after the attack still haunted me. Silas' condition had been my only concern. I'd run down the slope to him, tears in the corners of my eyes. Tears! I never cried unless I had to make my emotions look real. Unbidden, unforced ones? Never.

But I almost had that night, the salt in the wind biting at the corners of my eyes as I stared at the blood dripping down his side while he limped toward me. It was horrible.

The idea I might be falling for him for real, that we had a true, genuine connection, was terrifying. It wasn't something I wanted. It was supposed to be for the mission only. A fake relationship I could handle, no problem.

But a real one would leave me lost and confused. I didn't do those. I didn't know how to. Which was probably why I was a damn good spy. At a young age, I'd learned how to lie and manipulate people, to make them think I felt one thing instead of another. I knew how they ticked. I could fake whatever I needed to.

Except with Silas, and that made me want to pee my pants when I dwelled on it.

I wasn't sure if I was faking it anymore. And that terrified me to no end because I always had a plan. A way out, a next step. But I had nothing.

Sweat started break out in my pits as the thoughts piled up.

"Enough," I whispered to myself.

"What?" Silas asked, peering over the top of the rack as he stood up straight.

"Nothing," I said, snatching up three dresses at random. "Found some, should I try them on?"

"Sure," Silas said, staring at me for an extra second. Then he shrugged and let it go.

He followed me toward the changeroom, a half-step behind. I pulled the door open and hung up the dresses, only now looking at them for the first time.

One was creamy white with frills and far too much lace. If I'd been paying attention, I would never in a million years have grabbed it. That one would be last. The other two had potential. There was a violet one with a deep plunging neckline. And a black one that immediately drew my gaze.

"Be right back," I told Silas, pulling the door closed hurriedly.

I wanted him to see me in the black dress.

"Let's go over the guest list," Silas said as I pulled off the bright blue glani I'd chosen to wear that day. The dragon-styled outfits were all very similar and yet not. I was starting to enjoy the differences in them and hoped I could convince him to get me a few more.

"Again?" I moaned.

"It's important you know the major players," Silas said.

"Fine, fine," I conceded, hopping into the dress and starting to shimmy it up from the bottom. "Let's see, there's the sovereign herself. She's single and has one son named Vicek. He's the heir to the kingdom. Then there's your family. Azarel, your father, and you. Your name is Silas by the way. Then Caleb and Shi. Your sister, Abby. Your lovely Aunt Annabelle, too."

Silas was silent.

"Did I get that wrong?" I asked, fiddling with the zipper at my back, standing up nice and tall to get it as close together as possible first.

"No, no, you didn't. It was all correct," he said.

"Then there's Caine, Seth's dad. Their family is your biggest rival, the second house, if you're the first. Lilith is the daughter you rejected, which is why they're probably going to be somewhat pissy toward you—and me, I suppose—for a while. He has two younger siblings, a sister named Juliah and a much younger brother, Isaak. Their mother died giving birth to Isaak."

I finished doing up the dress and turned to look at it in the mirror. A smile broke over my face. I was confident Silas would love it. I swished from side to side, admiring myself. Even I thought I looked good. It was the one. There was no doubt.

"Then there's Aram and his family," I said, reaching for the door handle. "Do I have to go on, or do you trust I'm good?"

"You're good." Silas said. "Very good, in fact. You memorized all that very quickly."

"I have a good memory," I said with a shrug, realizing I should've stumbled some more over all the information. I didn't want him getting suspicious at how good I was at memorizing things. It was necessary in my trade, but that was different.

Then I pulled the door open and stepped out.

"What do you think?"

Silas' eyes nearly popped out of his head. I started to smile, enjoying the jaw-dropping response.

"I take it you like it," I teased, spinning around, so he could see the back. Or my back because, other than a loop around my neck, the dress began mere fractions of an inch above my ass.

There was a growl, and suddenly, I was being swept from my feet and into the changeroom.

Silas paused just long enough to close the door behind him before pushing me against the wall and covering my mouth with his.

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