Page 6 of The Sweetest Lies
“Zilo, stop! You’re making an old woman blush.” She almost smiles but as for blushing... no. I don’t think she knows how to show real reactions. A blush would never get past her carefully plotted emotions.
For some reason, it makes me stomp behind them a little harder. I glare at her long black hair with a bit more force. And I have to watch them so much more closely to really understand what she’s getting at.
Because let’s face it, Zilo wouldn’t know how to make a woman blush if he gave them an allergic reaction. Why is she smiling at him like he’s charming?
He isn’t charming!
Infuriating, maybe. Obtuse, definitely. Handsome...
That isn’t the point.
The point is—
“You like him,” a voice whispers at my side.
I peer up at the slender woman who now walks in pace with my own ungraceful stomping. She, of course, does it in a swaying fluid motion of gliding steps. Her black glittering gown hugs her lean frame, and the shining hair that cascades down her back blends right in with the threads of her clothes as the curling locks brush along her waist.
“You’re her daughter,” I whisper right back.
“You didn’t answer me.” She doesn’t look my way, but she is right.
And I won’t.
“You didn’t answer me either.” I arch a brow at her, and the small group of us turns a corner to head back to the east wing entrance. And once we go in, that will be the end of happy chatter. “Are you... are you dragon born?”
Ravar would have mentioned an heir. This girl looks like a replica of her mother, though, so it’s really hard to tell if there are any slight features of Ravar hidden in her angular face.
Her delicate wings shutter against her back, wafting her long hair as we walk toward the enormous double doors.
“Clearly, I’m hell fae,” she answers flatly.
Well, clearly. But... she must be part dragon. Right? Or perhaps she only takes after one parent rather than both… Like that dragon king I heard so much about last night.
“You have no dragon traits at all from your father?” I can’t help but pry because this is the first actual useful thing anyone’s spoken about since Creatchin took the throne and turned this kingdom—queendom—into a renovation party.
“Shifters don’t work like that. How little do you even know of your own kind, girl?” She glares at me with unsheathed disgust gleaming in her big black eyes. “Fae can be half-breeds. But the beast within shifters only allows one alpha. The dominance of a monster will overpower any other trait from either the mother or father. And I thank our Goddess every day I inherited my mother’s dark magic rather than the lazy powers of a dirty animal I can’t control.”
With that, she pushes past me and strides inside behind the others. The door closes behind her.
And the group has left me alone.
Thank. Fuck.
My eyes close slowly, and I sag into the shimmering black stone wall.
“This queendom is exhausting,” I mutter to myself because I’m just good company like that.
“As are you,” a rumbling tone says from far too close.
My eyes flash open, and there stands all six foot five inches of the largest man I’ve ever gazed upon.
Fucking Zilo.
The sun halos around his long dark hair, giving him a godlike appearance that he honestly always seems to have. Why are his cheeks so naturally glistened like a pixie stripper sneezed glitter on his obnoxious face? Really, could the world dampen his complex, just for a moment?
Can I have one moment alone in this ridiculous place? Please?
“You need to watch your mouth. And your eyes, for that matter.”
