Chapter 14

Senka

Steam curled in tendrils around the high-ceilinged bathing chamber like wisps of ghostly fingers, reaching for the heavens only to dissipate into nothing.

I sank deeper into the water, my olive skin rising in soft contrast to the creamy bubbles that dotted the surface. The culling loomed over me—a specter that threatened to snuff out my carefully laid plans.

What if I was eliminated?

Tonight, I had to be more than an undesirable. Tonight, I needed to become the epitome of grace and elegance.

I rose from the bath, water cascading from my form as donned a silken dressing gown and reached for the brush on the vanity. The strokes through my long black hair were methodical. It was during these moments, when my guard should have been at its highest, that the door creaked open.

Instincts honed from years of survival kicked in before reason. My hand snatched the dagger I'd placed beside the bath, brandishing it in the flickering light of the room. "Who's?—"

"Easy," a familiar baritone rumbled, and I lowered the weapon. Wolfe stood framed by the doorway, enveloping darkness caressing his harsh features.

"You can"t just fucking barge in here. I could have killed you." I scolded him, but there was no real venom behind the words. I was too exhausted to care, and it would only feed into his ego that he'd gotten under my skin.

"Apologies," he said, though I could tell by the glint in his feral gold eyes that he was anything but sorry.

He approached, the all-black attire of a highborn guard clinging to his muscular frame, lending him an air of regal danger. His dark hair, usually untamed, was tied back—tempering the wildness I knew so well.

"Stop looking at me like that," I chided as he drank in the sight of me, his gaze lingering on the curves accentuated by black silk. The nightgown left little to the imagination, and Wolfe seemed appreciative of the view.

"And how am I looking at you?" His voice was a low growl, threading the air between us with palpable tension.

"Like I"m your next meal," I replied tersely, turning away from him to hide the shiver his look sent down my spine.

My hands resumed their task, brushing through strands of hair as if the motion could sweep away the charged atmosphere he brought with him.

"Perhaps you are," he teased, taking a step closer, his warmth radiating off him in waves that beckoned me to lean back into him.

"You're insufferable. What do you want?" My voice carried an edge, hoping to stave off the distraction he presented. Tonight wasn"t about this weirdness that lingered between us; it was about survival, about moving through the dance of court politics without missing a step.

"Can"t a loyal guard simply check on his charge before the evening"s festivities?" His question hung in the air, half teasing, half challenge.

He reached out his hand, palm up and waiting, while giving my brush a pointed glance. Confused, I handed it to him and he motioned for me to turn away. As I did, he approached from behind and gathered my long hair over one shoulder before running the brush through my damp locks.

I nearly moaned, but managed to reign it in.

"Since when do we play these ridiculous roles in private?" I met his gaze in the mirror with a smirk.

"Since now," he murmured, and I felt the whisper of his breath on my exposed shoulder. "I think I like keeping you under watch. I think it bothers you that you like it too."

His touch was gentle and deliberate as he brushed my hair, his gaze tracing the path of his hand. It was an oddly intimate moment, unlike any I had ever shared with a man before, whether in bed or not.

"We can"t afford distractions." My warning was as much for myself as for him, and I didn't bother denying it either. I looked away, concealing the flutter in my stomach.

"You're right," he said. I felt him step closer until his body was pressed up against mine. "You were too bold on the training grounds."

I kept my hands steady, gripping the table before the mirror as shadows, eager to unfurl at the slightest provocation, danced beneath my skin. I could release them, let them wrap around his throat, but I held back. "I know what I'm doing," I said dismissively.

"Senka," he growled, a hint of warning mingling with frustration in his tone. He paused, tugging at my hair. "You"re supposed to be careful. Baz"s eyes are sharper than you give him credit for."

"Maybe," I conceded, "but I didn't come here to preen for him."

"You did," he snapped, his tone sharp and accusing. "That's why you"re here, isn"t it?" He set the brush down with a snap. "Tell me how you know him. And don't even think about lying to me. I can tell you're hiding something,"

Despite the reluctance coiling inside me, I relented. He waited patiently, his nostrils flaring with each passing moment of silence.

"Baz and I have met before. It was a long time ago. Another lifetime ago, but he obviously remembers."

Wolfe went utterly still, and I could see the question in his eyes, but I knew he wouldn't ask. He knew I wouldn't answer. Not tonight. He likely already suspected it, but I couldn't be sure. I wasn't ready to tell him about Beau. About our near escape and about how Baz saved me that day.

His hands found my shoulders and he squeezed them in a caress that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the bathing room.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, showing a rare moment of vulnerability I seldom allowed myself to feel.

"I wish I fucking knew," he confessed, the rough timber in his voice sinking into my bones. My shadows writhed inside of me, responding to his touch.

His lips caressed my bare shoulder in a barely there kiss that had my heart leaping into my throat. My eyes fell closed as my head tipped back.

And just like that, he left me. His hands released from my skin, the cold air replacing the warmth between us. I was left with a slammed door and a heart racing too fast for comfort.

The ballroom stretchedout before me, a field of battle draped in opulence. Black silk cascaded down my form, contrasting the icy silver of my eyes, the gown clinging to every curve as though it were a second skin. Wolfe trailed behind me, only steps away.

I stepped into the grandeur with measured grace, the soft rustle of my gown a whisper among the symphony of sounds—the delicate clink of crystal, the music rolling through the room from the musicians up on the balcony of the ballroom, and the murmured conversations of the gathered ladies.

Glittering lights danced along the walls, casting prismatic rainbows across my path. Fountains of crystal-clear water burbled in the background, adding to the music that filled the air, and trays laden with delicacies passed by.

At the grand table, a congregation of hopefuls began to take their seats, each vying for the favor of a prince who seemed more phantom than flesh. And amongst them, I moved with careful precision, acutely aware of Wolfe"s gaze fixed on me as he took his place at the far wall with his hands behind his back—a weight that was both comforting and disquieting.

As I joined the other ladies, a flutter in my stomach grew, not entirely from nerves. Surrounded by the opulence of the ballroom and the scrutiny of countless courtiers, I realized that I was feeling true nerves for once.

The air was thick with hushed anticipation, almost palpable like a physical shroud. The prince"s authoritative voice cut through the silence, and he quickly took his place at the head of the table, only a few seats away from me. "Ladies, please uncover your plates."

He didn't bother to meet anyone's eyes, only poured himself a goblet of red wine, looking utterly bored.

Gingerly, I lifted the cool pewter lid from my tray. Beneath it lay a single golden rose, its petals shimmering in the enchanted light. A collective breath seemed to be held and then released in waves of relief and despair around the table.

"Those without a rose," the prince continued, his words a velvet hammer, "are dismissed from the pageant."

Whispers fluttered around the room like dark, ominous wings, and I risked peering down the long table. Lady Lily"s complexion was ghostly pale, her eyes filled with shock as she gazed at an empty plate. A soft gasp escaped her lips before a loud wail echoed through the silence.

One after another,seven women rose from their seats, adding their voices to Lady Lily"s in a sorrowful chorus that made my lips quiver. I quickly took a sip of water to conceal my reaction. The guards stepped forward, offering their arms as support for the dismissed women. Some left with grace and tears; others were escorted out more forcefully, their cries echoing through the hall even after they were gone through the towering doors.

The meal began, with the sound of silverware clinking and hushed conversation filling the air. I was savoring a bite of roasted pheasant when a sudden choking sound filled the room. At the other end of the table, one of the unfamiliar ladies grabbed at her throat and her eyes widened with fear.

"Help her!" someone cried out as the lady"s hands fell away to reveal crimson trickling from her eyes.

A deadly hush cloaked the room, the musicians faltering into silence as she slumped over, her head hitting the plate with a sickening thud.

Poison. Unmistakable and swift.

The room erupted into chaos, lords and ladies scrambling back from the table as if death itself might leap toward them. Some of them even forced themselves to vomit up what they'd eaten and drank just in case they were next.

In the midst of the frenzy, I sought Wolfe out, finding him amidst the sea of panicked faces. His eyes locked onto mine, a subtle shake of his head conveying a wordless message: Not him.

Confusion knotted my insides. As far as we knew, we were the only two undesirables playing this dangerous masquerade.

If not Wolfe, then who? Another player hidden in the shadows, perhaps more deadly than either of us? Doubtful, but possible.

I met the sunset eyes of Prince Baz from across the table. We were the only two remaining in our seats. He sipped from his goblet, his eyes briefly flickering to the dead lady with impassive coldness.

Something icky slithered through me at the dismissal, and my shadows itched to investigate. It was a struggle to keep them contained.

My hand inched towards the dagger concealed in the folds of my gown. Whoever this unseen threat was, they had just changed the rules of the game.