“It’s a good thing I know someone who is.”
There’s a moment of shock in her eyes, as if she’s never truly contemplated it before. “He’s better than I am.”
So, she’s weighed those risks too…. That’s interesting.
“I’ve been thinking about it…. What if we could get our souls back?” My breath catches because I’ve never dared put this into words. “I’m his best thief. You’re his best assassin. Together—”
She shoves to her feet and stalks away from the ledge, back into the shadows. “You can’t say that. Not out loud,” she hisses over her shoulder.
Because Father’s eyes and ears are everywhere.
“Think about it,” I call as I follow her.
“I am thinking about it.” She turns on me, her expression livid. “This is all his fault. I told you Keir’s dangerous. In more ways than one. You’re starting to think there’s hope for the two of you.”
“I’m fairly certain I’m about to betray him. I don’t think he’ll forgive me a second time.” My voice is steady, but I can’t help feeling my heart skip a beat.
I haven’t decided what I’m going to do.
I didn’t tell Keir about Soraya—or what my plans are today—only that I have things to set in place.
But I also can’t forget the way his voice caught on Arianna’s name.
If I give that horn to my father, then I’m effectively starting a war.
But I’ll make a decision once I have the horn in hand.
A good thief doesn’t look at her haul until she’s well away from danger…. And a good thief doesn’t dwell on the future when she’s right in the thick of the heist.
“You don’t understand, do you?” For once there’s almost a hint of sympathy in her dark eyes. “Those marks on your neck? That look in his eyes? You know what they say about the dragons? They were possessive, territorial bastards. If they saw something they wanted, then they’d take it.” Her voice softens. “I was there when he chose his bride, Zemira. He wants you. He’s chosen you. He’s not going to let you go now, betrayal or no betrayal. You woke the dragon. You captured his interest. And now you’re going to have to pay the consequences.”
The words send a little shiver down my spine.
“If that’s the worst thing I have to worry about today,” I tell her, “then I’ll take it. I can handle Keir, but right now, we have a wedding to ruin. You need to get dressed. Maybe you’ll thank me once this is all said and done.”
Our gazes clash.
Then Soraya snorts. “If we’re still alive, I’ll thank you. Until then, try not to get us both killed. Now go and get ready for the wedding.”
20
The entire amphitheater—where the ceremony is being held—is bedecked with blood lilies.
“Interesting choice,” Keir murmurs as he leads me beneath the arch and into the natural stone amphitheater. “Adds a certain… ambiance.”
“For a funeral.” I don’t know if that’s tempting fate or not, or whether Belladonna is making a pointed statement to me.
“The groom looks nervous.”
“I’d be nervous too if I was marrying Belladonna.”
Keir gestures me toward our seats, which are several rows back from the front of the natural grotto. But I can’t stop myself from examining the layout of the terrain.
Red leaves rain down softly from the blood oaks that surround the top of the grotto, as if they’re weeping. The floor is smooth, polished stone, and enormous limestone columns line the amphitheater, ensuring that those cavernous walls stay in place. The stone sarcophagi line the rooms, bedecked with flowers and candles as if to hide that they are, effectively, tombs for some of the lesser dragonkind that stepped into mortal flesh. This is a place of power, and I can feel it in the hush of the room.
“Relax,” Keir tells me, his fingertips resting in the center of my back.
Instantly, I still. My brain is racing at a hundred miles an hour, but I thought I’d managed to keep it off my face. The ability to consume such emotions and choke them down is what saw me through the first nineteen years of my life, until I finally graduated from the training camps.
If it’s showing….
Keir cuts me a sidelong look, and his hand slides over my hip and draws me into the curve of his waist. “That’s not relaxing.”
I force my shoulders to drop and ease out a slow breath as I rest against him. All the better to commune privately. “Forgive me if I’m running to a deadline,” I mutter. “You’re not the one with a curse entwined around your heart.”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” he reminds me, his lashes smothering those wicked, dragon eyes. “We have this entirely in hand. We just need to play our cards. ”
About this “we” business….
He still thinks we’re going to run with this illusion.
Keir can manipulate reality, and he is the Prince of Dreams. If anyone can make it look like Mistmark is dead….
“Glamor’s tricky,” I whisper into the curve of his neck. “If even a single fae in this room realizes that what is about to happen didn’t actually happen….”
“We only need to fool one of them. As long as the bride believes it—”
“The entire room needs to believe,” I whisper fiercely. “I can’t risk it.”
Keir looks into my eyes. I don’t know what he sees.
A lover. A liar.
A fool.
One who doesn’t dare wear her heart on her sleeve.
“We risk nothing,” he growls. The room goes silent, and I know he’s encased us in one of his little warded bubbles so that no one can hear us. Indeed, everyone around us seems frozen
