Page 2 of Seduced By Darkness
“Close enough,” she replies. “I need toknow, Thiago.”
Because she’s my failsafe.
If my wards break and the daemon inside me is unleashed, then Eris is the one who will kill me. I made her promise such a thing years ago, when I first rescued her from an unforgiving alliance of queens.
A shudder runs through me. That promise is the only thing that gives me any peace at night, but sometimes I’m not even sure if shecankill me.
It’s so fucking hungry right now.
I force myself to imagine a set of dark eyes, framed by thick lashes. Maybe brown. Maybe blue—as dark as the color of midnight. The rest of the face is slower to form—it’s been over five centuries since Maia granted me an image of this face, and while I’ve been carrying it for this long, hoarding it within my heart like a dragon guarding its treasure, the edges are starting to blur.
She’s beautiful.
Large, serious eyes that absolutely light up the second she sees me and smiles. It’s the smile that does the damage. It reaches down deep and clenches its fist around my heart. Her face is heart-shaped, with a faint cleft in the middle of her chin, and hair like dark silk cascades over her bare shoulders.
The goddess Maia doesn’t often grant favors for those who pray to her, but this one night, when I was at my lowest, kneeling in her temples with my knees wet with my blood, she gave me a shred of hope.
She showed me the face of the woman I’ll marry.
The woman I will love.
It’s enough to force the jagged remnants of my father’s shadow from my heart.
He can’t defeat me here, with the image of my future wife reaching out a hand to me as if to lead me into some future adventure. Not even the Darkness can overwhelm me right now.
She’s my hope. My shield. The only fucking thing that keeps my chains of control in place.
“I’m fine,” I repeat again.
“You’re such a stubborn bastard.” Eris tosses my cloak at me. “The others are waiting. Thalia’s little birds have come in.”
“There’s news of Finn?”
“There’s news.” She stalks toward the flap of canvas that partitions this room off from the main tent. “Whether it’s good or not is a question only Thalia can answer.”
It has to be good. I won’t accept any other outcome.
* * *
Pushing through the canvas flaps,I find the main room of the tent filled with my people.
They’re all here.
My generals, my spymistress, my friends.
There’s just one empty chair and it belongs to Finn.
The twins, Baylor and Lysander, look like matching monoliths carved out of stone, but despite that, it’s easy to tell them apart.
Half of Baylor’s silvery-blond hair is drawn into a leather thong, and hangs down his back in messy tangles. His armor is scarred green leather, braids of it overlapping the enormous breadth of his chest. But it’s the scowl that identifies him. Baylor’s never met a smile he wouldn’t drag into a back alley and stab to death.
Lysander, on the other hand, is all wickedness and flashy grace. Clad in a black velvet doublet that sets off his hair, his cheeks are smooth-shaven as well as one side of his head. The rest of his hair hangs in a silken fall over the right side of his face. It makes his cheekbones look sharper and sensual, and rings glitter on his fingers. It’s a little fancier than his usual attire, but Lysander likes to party and the queensmoot—a centuries-old meeting between the heads of the Seelie Alliance—is renowned for three days of drinking, dancing and fucking.
Secret assignations between members of opposing royal courts are common. It doesn’t matter who you serve when the bonfires that bring in Lammastide are lit.
It’s the only time of the year when ancient enmities are set aside and the fae can give in to our hedonistic natures.
There’s no sign of pleasure on any of their faces. This Lammastide is different.
