Page 11 of A Court of Bones & Sorrow

Dark purple eyes lifted from the page they’d been reading and latched onto the plate. “Freshly baked honey biscuits?” she asked hopefully.

“Leora just made them.” I smirked and walked over to the small seating area I’d crammed into the space. The outer wall was mostly windows, and the other three were lined with shelves. Samara hadn’t been keen on adding more furniture to the already small space, but I’d insisted. Her desk and two chairs were on one half of the room, and I’d brought in two more chairs—with far comfier cushions—and tucked them away in the corner next to a window.

I placed the plate onto the table in between them and sank into one of the chairs. “If you want one, you’re going to haveto come over here though.” Her brows furrowed as she frowned at all the papers scattered across her desk. “I promise whatever you’re working on will still be there after you’ve taken a break and eaten something.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh but rose to join me. I smiled to myself. Samara was always worried about Roth getting caught up in whatever they were working on and forgetting to eat or otherwise care for themself, but she was the same way. My lovely Samara had a bad habit of putting everyone’s needs before her own.

Luckily, she had me, and I had no problem putting her needs before everyone else’s.

“This is heaven,” she groaned around a mouthful of biscuit, her hair still damp and clinging to the deep purple dress she wore. The color almost perfectly matched her eyes and made her golden brown skin practically glow. I was imagining peeling it off her later when she asked the question I’d been dreading. “So what’s the deal with you and Draven?”

A cool dread solidified in the pit of my stomach as I rose to close the door and activate the silencing spell. Samara drew her legs up beneath her and settled further back into her chair as I took a seat again, her expression patient and supportive.

“It was hard when you left for House Laurent,” I started. “It’s not like I didn’t know you’d be marrying Demetri, but when we were growing up, that was always something distant in the future. Even when you went to study at Drudonia, you’d still come back often, but when you left . . .” I swallowed. “It felt like someone had ripped out a piece of my soul, and I didn’t know how to fix that.”

Her eyes darkened, and her voice was rough as she spoke. “I’m so sorry, Kier.”

I shrugged and forced my lips to curve into a small smile. “It’s not your fault. Like I said, it’s not like I didn’t know what was coming.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have gone through with that marriage.” She twisted her hands in her lap as she stared at them with an unseeing gaze. “I was so obsessed with doing what I thought was the right thing for House Harker. After my parents—” Her voice caught on the last word, and my heart clenched.

She never spoke about her parents, and I never pushed her about it. Everyone knew how the previous rulers of House Harker had died. They’d been gone for years before I’d come to live here, and whenever their names were mentioned around Samara, I could practically watch the emotion drain from her face. Everyone seemed to think she had handled the loss of her parents well and had rallied to support House Harker. They praised her as if she were the perfect example of everything a House Heir should be.

I didn’t understand how no one could see how, over a decade later, Samara was still devastated by the death of her parents. Her grief was a never-ending well that she did her best to keep covered. I didn’t know how to help with that because I’d never lost anyone I’d cared about as deeply as Samara did her parents. The only person I’d ever loved was her.

And Draven.

“I probably should have brought us a bottle of wine in addition to the biscuits.” I blew out a deep breath, and Samara chuckled wryly.

“Yeah . . . or maybe some shots of whatever liquor Leora has hidden away in the bottom cupboard of the storage room.” Her lips trembled for a second before she caught it and pursed them together. “After my parents died, I felt like I had to do everything perfectly. Everyone was counting on me to uphold their legacy. The alliance with House Laurent was my way of furthering House Harker’s power.” She shook her head ruefully. “And it was a complete failure.”

“Not your fault,” I said sharply. “Demetri is a piece of shit,and that House never deserved you. I should have told you back then how much I loved you and begged you to stay.”

I’d been too scared that she would acknowledge that she felt the same . . . and then go on to marry Demetri anyway. Because that was what had been expected of her, and she never would have let her House—or more importantly, her aunt—down.

Samara raised her gaze from her hands to look at me and gave me a soft, genuine smile. “I’m sad we wasted so many years.” Then her eyes became hard and possessive. “You’re mine, Kier, and I’ll never leave you again.”

“You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now,” I growled as my cock thickened at her words and the truth I felt behind them.

“You can.” She winked. “Afteryou tell me about Draven.”

I sighed and slouched in the chair. “Being at House Harker was hard after you left. So I started traveling even more than normal. Checking in with the outposts, visiting some of the other Houses and also the Sovereign House. During one of those visits, the queen was throwing one of those ridiculous masquerades she loves.”

“They’re such a waste of resources.” Samara’s mouth twisted in distaste. “I’ve brought it up to Carmilla before, hoping that maybe because she’s Velika’s friend, she could get the queen to tone them down or at least do them less often, but apparently, Velika feels very strongly that it’s important we build up and maintain a Moroi culture.”

“A culture that only the elite can take part in,” I pointed out, and Samara scrunched her nose as she made a noise of agreement. “I was leaning against the wall, watching all those gathered engage in all kinds of wild debauchery, when Draven suddenly appeared next to me. Even with the mask on, I knew it was him.”

“He does have a certain . . . presence about him,” Samara admitted.

I nodded. “That he does. I didn’t know what to do or say to him. We’d been in the same room before, but he’d never directly spoken to me. He just turned to me with a wicked grin and said, ‘So, are you having fun collecting all sorts of gossip and potential blackmail material, Kieran?’” I let out a soft chuckle. “I was so fucking surprised not only that he was speaking to me but that he knew my name, that I almost dropped my wineglass.”

“He didn’t leave my side for the entire party. Other guests would come up and ask him to dance or join them in conversation, and he just politely declined. We spent the entire time pointing out who was fucking who, which House was trying to screw over another one on a trade deal, and any other saucy tidbit we could think of.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment. “It was the first time I forgot about my longing for you and just . . . enjoyed life.”

Samara leaned forward and stretched her arms out so she could clasp my hands in hers. “I’m glad, Kier. Whatever else Draven has done and whatever the future holds, I’m glad he at least gave you that happiness, if only for a night.”

“Oh, there weremanynights he gave mehappiness.” I arched an eyebrow as my lips curved into a satisfied smile. Samara threw her head back and released a throaty laugh as she leaned back in her chair, and something inside me eased at hearing that laugh. I’d been dreading this conversation, not only because talking about it was painful, but I’d been worried Samara wouldn’t be comfortable discussing one of my past lovers.

Our relationship still felt so new and fragile that I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it, but I never should have doubted Sam. She and Alaric were my best friends and had always supported me through anything without judgment.

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