Page 52 of Court of Lies and Deceit

A sharp smile spreads across Isera’s lips.

Galen groans and throws his arms up in an exasperated gesture. “Great, so we have two people who are entirely incapable of teamwork and one who shouldn’t even have won.”

“You’re looking at it wrong,” Draven says. A sly smile plays over his lips as he looks from me to Isera to Alistair before meeting Galen’s gaze again. “We have two people who were strong enough to win completely on their own and one person who was smart enough to win even though she shouldn’t have.”

“Ha!” Lyra exclaims, a wide grin on her face, as she points at Draven. “I knew there was a little optimist hiding underneath all that brooding.”

Draven begins turning towards her, but before he can even meet her gaze, panic and hesitation blow across her features. She swallows and clears her throat before awkwardly glancing away.

Tension starts settling over the table like a death shroud. Thankfully, the waitress chooses that exact moment to arrive with our food. I stifle a sigh of relief as the heavy atmosphere is forced out by the heavenly scents of food.

My stomach growls as the waitress sets down a plate full of grilled meat, fried potatoes with what smells like garlic andherbs, and a slice of fluffy white bread. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now. These past two days, with the team selection, the escape attempt, Orion’s nightmare punishment, and this entire day of training, have felt like three weeks. Not to mention the actual three weeks we spent in Orion’s dungeon.

Thuds drift through the air as the waitress sets down wooden tankards of ale in front of us. I glance down into mine while she sets the last one down in front of Draven.

“Thank you,” I say.

She doesn’t reply. Only shoots me a disapproving look and stalks away.

It makes my stomach twist uncomfortably, but I block out the emotion and instead dig into the food.

A moan escapes my lips as I put a bite of grilled meat and potatoes into my mouth. The meat is so perfectly cooked that it practically melts in my mouth. Closing my eyes, I savor the taste of garlic and herbs.

My eyes snap back open again as I suddenly feel a warm breath caress my ear, and I find that Draven has leaned in close. His lips brush the shell of my ear, sending lightning skittering across my skin.

“I thought only I could draw those sounds from you,” he whispers in my ear.

Warmth curls around my spine, and I give him a sly smile as he draws back and sits upright again. While holding his gaze with eyes full of teasing challenge, I spear another piece of meat and put it in my mouth. Then I close my eyes and moan softly again as if the food is the best thing I have ever tasted.

Draven’s hand grips my thigh under the table. And I, in turn, have to grip the table as he slides his strong hand up towards my hip and then sideways until it’s resting on my inner thigh. My clit practically tingles from the near touch. He leans in again.

“Careful now, little rebel,” he whispers in my ear, so softly that only I can hear. “Unless you want me to bend you over this table right here and fuck you so thoroughly that everyone will know what youreallysound like when you moan.”

My heart flips and heat licks through my veins.

He once more pulls back, but he doesn’t remove his hand. I struggle to swallow the bite of food as his fingers skim along the inside of my thigh. Coughing, I force the food down with a gulp of ale. I cast a worried look around the table, but everyone else is either engaged in their own conversations or focused on the food.

Draven’s hand remains possessively on my thigh, his fingers teasing me, as I cut another piece of meat and potatoes. This time when I eat, I make sure to do it without moaning. Draven gives my thigh an approving squeeze and he briefly leans closer again.

Another shiver of pleasure ripples down my spine as he places his lips right next to my ear.

“Good girl.”

I choke on the potato.

Coughing violently, I lurch forward to grab the tankard of ale to wash it down while shooting the bastard next to me a glare. My cheeks are blazing red. Draven gives my thigh a couple of satisfied pats and lets out a smug chuckle under his breath as he pulls back again so that he is sitting normally.

From my other side, Galen glances at both me and Draven in confusion. “You okay?”

After forcing down the potato with several gulps of ale, I cough again and croak, “Yes.”

He frowns at both of us. But before he can ask any more questions, Lyra’s voice rings out.

“Are you going to drink or what?” She raises her eyebrows at Alistair, managing to somehow look both cheerful and half-offended at the same time. “I’ll have you know that I spent a lot of time choosing the best type of ale to go with this spice blend for the meat and potatoes.”

“Oh we know,” Galen mutters from across the table.

“Shut up,” she says, but she’s still smiling. Then she shifts her gaze back to Alistair and nods towards his still full tankard. “So why aren’t you drinking it?”

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