My fellow Originals are under the disillusion that this ball is a show of strength—that it proves we are unconcerned with the rebels’ antics. They believe it will discourage any more Immortals from rising against us.
They’re wrong, and I never should have agreed to put Darcie at risk by attending this idiotic party.
I lift my chin and school my features.
Be aloof. Don’t give them anything.
I tilt my head and slam back the flute of champagne in my hands, setting it on the tray of a passing server. The meek female stares at me wide-eyed as I pluck another glass from her tray. The remaining crystal flutes shake ever so slightly before she hurries away, but not before casting a nervous glance over her shoulder.
I grit my teeth.
I hate this.
Half of the lesser Immortals in attendance fear me and my brothers; the other half are practically sycophantic with their adoration. It’s sickening.
Thane, Lome, and I are powerful. There’s no denying it. But we are flawed. Just like them. I despise the leadership role that’s been put on our shoulders. But most of all, I hate how a young, inexperienced mortal woman threatens to unravel the cold façade I’ve erected around myself for over a century.
I inhale through my nostrils, fighting the urge to turn and search for a glimpse of the beautiful woman.
“You really do look like her.”
Power flares in my fingertips. I stifle it.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
I should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut.
Dancing with Darcie was meant to show the room my indifference. The plan was to give lesser Immortals reason to believe Adir and Darcie’s impending kiss is legitimate, to confirm what I’ve been saying all along: Darcie Abernathy is not myOne.
And I screwed it up.
“Are you planning to ignore me?” Lome asks after I don’t respond to his asinine remark.
“Yes.” I tilt back the second glass and swallow the champagne in one gulp, barely registering the taste.
He chuckles, undeterred. “Yikes. Something must’ve gotten under your skin. Or, should I say,someone.”
My power flares again. The vase holding the extravagant floral arrangement behind me rattles.
“You were rude to Liana earlier.” I scan the area for another server, but Thane’s employees are too good at staying out of sight. I shouldn’t have been so forceful when I told them to stay away from Darcie.
Lome snorts. “Why should I care?”
“Have you not been listening to our big brother?” I lift a brow. “We’re supposed to make sure the lesser Immortalslikeus.”
Thane isn’t actually older than me or Lome. We spawned into existence simultaneously, along with the other six Originals. But it’s a hierarchy we naturally adopted shortly after our creation. It just felt…right.
“Liana likes you enough for the both of us.” He waves a dismissive hand. “And nice try, but I won’t let you change the subject.”
I twist the crystal flute between my fingers, saying nothing.
His lips curl into a knowing grin. My hand twitches, eager to slap the irritating expression off his instigating face.
“Have you noticed how hardly anyone can keep their eyes off Darcie?” he asks, voice tinged slightly in awe. “She is truly breathtaking.”
I have, and it fills me with undeniablerage.
“No.” I keep my voice flat, resisting the urge, once again, to look out and find the beautiful woman. She ran away from me after my idiotic comment.