Page 83 of Rising Out of the Darkness
“Have you made a decision about my offer?” he asked, taking two golden wine goblets off the passing server’s tray and handing one to me.
Wrapping my fingers around the stem, I dipped my head. “Yes, I’ll take your offer. As long as my town stays safe, I’ll do as you ask.”
“Good.” He guided me towards Alastor and another man. Both stared at me with such intensity that it made my skin prickle. “Elena has decided to take my offer,” he said, and the other men’s lips tugged into cruel grins.
Their looks of satisfaction made my stomach ache, and doubt blossomed within it. Even though I knew this was going to save my town, I couldn’t help feeling like I had just joined hands with the enemy.
Hells, I hope I’m making the right decision.
“This is Lord Edan Drake. He runs Vragos, the City of Ash.”
Edan dipped his head, his pointy nose crinkling at the king’s introduction. “Yes, Iruleover the City of Ash.” His sharp jaw clenched, dark brown eyes shifting to the king. “It’s nice to meet you, Lady…” His thin lips pursed together as he tried to recall my name.
“Elena,” Alastor interjected, taking a deep draw of whiskey as his icy blue eyes studied me.
“Oh, yes, that’s right.” Lord Drake cleared his throat, waving Alastor off. “So hard to remember all these courtiers these days.”
“Seeing as how she possesses the dynamis of the Light Phoenix, the savior of our realm, I suggest hers is one name that you should commit to memory,” Alastor drawled, and the king nodded with approval.
Edan’s shoulders cowered before he shook it off and apologized. “Forgive me for my error, Lady Elena.”
“You’re forgiven,” Alaric grunted, and pulled my arm into his once more. “We have mingling to do and promises of your protection to make. Time to circle the room, my lady.”
This entire interaction had left me stunned and confused. Only two nights ago both men had belittled me over my plate of salmon. Now, they were being eerily respectful. Something didn’t sit right, and the dynamis that had roused within me once more agreed.
As we walked away, Alastor stared at me from his glass of whiskey. The intensity of it burned through me as it tracked me around the room, through every interaction the king and I had, and even during conversations with the other guests about my dynamis. I could look up and always find Alastor’s eyes.
Even after the king excused me from my duties, a shiver ran down my spine as I exited through the gold-trimmed doors. There was no need to look over my shoulder to know that his gaze still lingered upon me.
As I walked down the long hallway and up the stairs towards the library, there was only one question that crossed my mind about Alastor’s stare.
Why?
Chapter 32
Elena
Sunlight spilled over the dark oak floors of the hallway as I approached the library doors. One was ajar enough for me to hear the stern voices within, and my legs stiffened. Rocking back and forth on my heels I contemplated turning around until Declan’s voice barraged through the open space.
“Damn!”
I leaned against the smooth wood of the door. The fury within his tone should have stopped me from eavesdropping. Instead, it stirred an unavoidable need to stay.
“I warned him, Killian! Numerous times we’ve told my father and Alastor that these beasts were roaming the outer walls of the city.” The slam of a fist reverberated against a hard surface inside. “Those miserable bastards. Hells! One almost killed Elena, and now three families must mourn the loss of their children—children, Killian…Gods,” he breathed. “Please forgive us.”
A heavy sigh shuddered, followed by an uncomfortably long silence.
“The guards on duty were ours.” Killian’s voice sounded strained, and my curiosity ran rampant with what he meant when he said “ours.” Weren’t all the guards theirs?
“Damn the Hells!” Declan seethed as another crash came from within.
“They said one moment they were awake, and the next they woke up lying on the ground, the sounds of screams in the distance. You know it had to be him.”
Who?
“After one attacked Elena, I should have foreseen this.” A groan slipped from Declan, and though I couldn’t see it, I imagined he was probably running his palms through his hair in frustration.
“Dec, you know this is not your fault, right?”
