Page 47 of Taken By The Dark Three
I stiffen at mention of the child. “It’s not a side note. I know you care about her. If saving her helps keep you invested, then yes, I’ll make it a priority. But my vendetta stands either way.”
She narrows her eyes, scanning me as if searching for a lie. “And you think I’ll just sign on, join your rebellion, because we share a mutual enemy?”
I step closer, letting my chaotic energy swirl subtly. The tension between us crackles, reminiscent of the orchard’s hush. “Yes,” I say, voice dropping. “Because you despise Orthani more each day. They nearly let Zareth enslave you. They hold Ai as a bargaining chip. Vaelith, for all his seeming mercy, remains their loyal dog. Sooner or later, they’ll turn on you too.”
Her jaw flexes. She wants to deny it, but we both know Orthani’s cruelty lurks behind every corner. “I won’t jump into bed with you—figuratively or literally—just because you offer an alliance,” she growls.
A twisted smirk tugs my mouth. “Ah, but you’re tempted. I see it in your eyes. The city stifles you, Zareth wants your mind, Vaelith half-claims your body, the council views you as a tool. My path is at least direct: tear Orthani down from within. You’d get freedom for Ai and yourself.”
Her breath catches, the raw edge of longing flaring. “And what if I say yes? We tear it down, then what? You turn on me the moment it suits your plan?”
I trace a step around her, letting the tension swirl as we circle like predators. “Maybe,” I admit, voice soft. “But maybe we keep each other alive long enough to secure what we want. That’s all any alliance in Orthani is—an arrangement until it collapses.”
She’s silent, dagger still within reach on the desk, but no longer brandished. The hush pulses with dangerous attraction. I recall the orchard night, how her body felt near mine, the static in the air. My mouth runs dry. “Take your time to think,” I say,“but not too long. The next major supply run leaves soon. If you help me sabotage it, we can strike a blow at Orthani’s war effort.”
She arches a brow. “Sabotage their supplies, risking a crackdown that might cost innocent lives?”
I shrug. “Orthani thrives on war. You know that. If we hamper their supplies, we weaken their next campaign. Or do you prefer letting them march your kind into slavery?”
Her eyes flash with old grief. “Damn you,” she repeats, but the anger feels more directed at her predicament than at me. She steps back, a swirl of tension in every line of her body. “Fine. I’ll consider your sabotage plan. But I want details first. No more half-truths.”
A surge of relief floods me. “Agreed. We can meet again in two days. I’ll bring specifics on the supply run route and schedule. You can slip me intelligence from Orthani’s war councils, confirm the guard rosters. We coordinate. Once we succeed, maybe you’ll see the Red Purna isn’t your only path, that I can be a better ally than a coven that discards you.”
She lifts her chin, something akin to a dark amusement glimmering. “You might be the lesser devil, Eryx. Or maybe just a devil I happen to tolerate.”
My pulse drums faster. Her barbed acceptance feels like a victory, albeit precarious. My gaze flickers down her frame, the tension humming with a different sort of hunger. “That’s enough for now. After we disrupt Orthani’s supply lines, you’ll see if our synergy can do more.”
She exhales, wrapping her arms around herself. “Stop tempting me with sweet words of synergy. This is a deal of convenience. Don’t confuse it with loyalty or trust.”
I let out humorless chuckle. “I never confuse anything with trust in Orthani. But we can share something stronger than trust—mutual interest. And if sparks fly along the way…” I trail off,stepping closer. The warmth of her body in the confines of this small suite engulfs me.
Her eyes narrow, though color rises in her cheeks. “Careful, or you’ll end up broken by the very sparks you stoke.”
I tilt my head, a smirk forming. “And you think you’re not dancing on that edge, too?” My voice lowers, recalling how she pinned me with her gaze last time we parted, that swirl of tension claiming every breath.
Her dagger hand tenses, but she doesn’t raise it. We stand mere inches apart, the lamp’s flicker casting half our faces in shadow. My heart roars in my ears. Part of me wants to pull her into a punishing kiss, see if her lips taste as fierce as her words. Another part warns me to keep distance, that she might lash out. Her chest rises and falls with ragged intensity.
She breaks the moment by shifting aside. “I’ve had enough men thinking they can entangle me with seductive words,” she mutters, voice trembling with conflicting emotions. “Vaelith tries to rule me, Zareth tries to own my mind, you want to harness my power. Maybe I’ll break all three of you first.”
My blood ignites at her defiance. “Then be sure you do it quickly,” I say, “because I’ll not hold back if you betray me.”
She shoots me a look that practically crackles. “Likewise.”
Silence hums, thick with unresolved tension. Finally, she tears her gaze away, brushing a stray lock from her face. She’s so vividly alive, it steals my breath. “Get out,” she orders, though her voice carries no malice. “If Vaelith’s guards find you in my room, we’ll both pay for it.”
I swallow, acknowledging the truth. “I’ll be watching from the rooftops. In two days, I’ll find you again for the sabotage details. Be prepared.”
She nods, not trusting words. My chest clenches with a raw longing to linger, but I respect the precarious line we walk. Turning, I move to the door, pressing my ear to it for signs ofpassing guards. All’s quiet. I slip out, shutting it softly behind me.
The corridor stands empty. My plan to cause a minor distraction earlier must still hold the guard’s attention. I retrace my steps, each footfall quiet. Only once I slip back out to the orchard’s gloom do I exhale fully. My muscles tremble from the tension of that confrontation—and the hush of attraction that threatened to spark into something uncontrollable. She hasn’t outright refused me. That’s the best I could hope for.
I cross the orchard, weaving behind hedges to avoid potential watchers. A twinge of chaos magic ripples in my core, fueling my stealth. Within minutes, I’m over the outer fence, dropping into a side street that leads away from Vaelith’s estate. My pulse remains elevated, mind replaying Selene’s words: “Maybe I’ll break all three of you first.” The notion twists me with anticipation. She’s no meek conspirator. She’s a force.
Once I reach the quieter districts of Orthani, I make for a cramped safehouse above a disused wine shop. Climbing the rickety stairs to the second floor, I secure the door behind me. The single lamp I left burns low, illuminating my sparse furniture. An empty table, a battered chest containing stolen supplies, a narrow bedroll in the corner. I toss my cloak aside, sinking onto the bedroll, running a hand over my eyes.
My head swirls with new complications. The Red Purna wants war, but their methods are reckless. I plan to exploit them. Vaelith stands as Orthani’s enforcer, but something in him cracks whenever Selene’s involved. Zareth wants to mind-bind her, and she nearly turned him into a quivering mess. Each day, the city tightens around us. Our secrets form a fragile web.
Her question about the Red Purna’s betrayal lingers. I never told her the entire truth—that they specifically targeted her because of her rumored potential, that they wanted a reason to draw out Orthani’s might for a final confrontation. If sheknew the depth of that manipulation, perhaps she’d burn them all. Maybe she’s leaning toward that anyway. Once we sabotage Orthani’s supply run, I might feed her more morsels of truth, guiding her rage where I want it. That’s all this alliance is, right? A means to dismantle the council. Or do I want something more with her?
