Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
The gasps around us deafen me, and the questioning eyes turn to me, but Anatole gives a cruel chuckle.
“You think the Lord of the Nocturne Court would let you, a human, leave once you’re bound?”
I hate that instead of answering, Luke gives me an uncertain glance. As if Anatole’s words are sinking claws into him.
My legs weaken under me, and I pull Luke close, wrapping one arm around him. “What does it matter if I never intended to let Luke go? Why would he even want to leave?” I say and challenge the blond bastard with my gaze. Maybe he will strike? I could end his life and call it self-defense.
I know I said the wrong thing when Luke pulls out of my arms with an uncertain expression, but it’s too late to take it back now.
“It’s about it being my choice,” he whispers, and I want to whisk him far away from here so we can talk about it instead of facing the gossiping crowd.
Anatole makes a point of assessing the state of his nails while his other hand rests on the rapier. He’s a fucking master of ruining things, I have to give him that. “Are we having this duel or are you admitting defeat?” he asks impatiently, prompting another wave of chuckles from our audience, as if his disgusting proposition is a game, not real-life stakes. His sister Elodie even leans in to whisper something to him with a smile as they both eye me like two snakes.
Maybe for people for whom lovemaking is a pastime, this challenge is a trifle, a way to end a scandalous situation, but I would never willingly put Luke in this kind of situation.
Only already I have.
I left him alone and vulnerable, then swept in with violence instead of keeping my cool.
It’s pathetic.
Now Luke is watching me with a tense grimace. I might have stolen him from his home, but my intentions were never duplicitous. I want to keep him safe. Happy. In comfort. Is that really so wrong?
I almost wave Anatole off, just so I can have a moment alone with my promised, but my voice gets stuck in my throat when I realize this would have meant forfeiting the duel and defeat. The bastard put me in an impossible position, and he knows it.
“Not a chance. I only wish this was a real fight,” I growl out, because none of us is allowed to make the other bleed during a duel at court. The use of shadowcraft is strictly forbidden, and we will attempt to cut off roses attached to our chests instead. Which plays into Anatole’s hand, since I have seen him fence, and he might just be my superior when it comes to the sport.
Fucking bastard.
I hate him so much. I wish I could grab him with shadows and pulverize his skull, but no. All I can do is use my sword to cut the rose carefully attached to his chest by his sister. She even dares a mean smirk at me. The whole damn Goldweed family can get sucked into Heartbreak’s innards for all I care. I’ll let their hearts stew inside the beast forever, so they never know peace.
Sabine approaches me with a somber expression. I wish Luke was the one to attach my rose, but he doesn’t know our customs. At least I hope it’s just that, because he looks so distressed I want to hug and reassure him.
“Keep your head, Kyranis,” Sabine whispers, resting her hands on her substantial bump as soon as she’s done pinning a black flower to my chest. “Anatole will surely play dirty.”
“He already has,” I mumble and rub Sabine’s arm, but I seek out Luke and swallow, itching to hear his voice.
“Please don’t lose,” he mumbles without lifting his eyes.
As if I’d let Anatole put his hands on him even if I lost. I’d sooner castrate the fucker and rot in the dungeons under the palace.
“Of course not,” I say softly, but when even that doesn’t earn me the grace of Luke’s approval, my feet sink deeper into the marble floor. I raise my head, staring straight back at the bastard on the other side of the crowd. Familiar faces are masks of indifference, amusement, rage, or excitement. It’s all a game to them, yet another performance on a big night, but my future with Luke is at stake, and I cannot fail him again.
Tristan orders the guards to stand watch around the impromptu battleground while my finely dressed guests crowd by the walls and climb onto the mezzanine on one side, eager for a great view of the spectacle to come.
They’re still shuffling around, still not ready, but I’m not here to provide entertainment. I pull out Gloomdancer, leaping toward the menace who’s spoiled this special day for me and my lover.