Page 9 of Realm of Wind and Vines
Isera shifts her gaze to him, and a mocking and highlydangerous expression descends on her features. “Let me guess, I should smile more?”
“No. Why change something that is already perfect?” His black and silver eyes remain locked on her face, as if he is searing it into his mind. “It’s like watching a shard of ice glinting in a harsh sun on a ruthlessly cold winter day. Lethal. Sharp. Unyielding.” He cocks his head, making his long dark blue hair slide over his tailored tunic. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. I keep wondering if you truly are royalty or if you just played me with that sharp mind and tongue of yours, but it’s at times like this when I can’t deny that it must be true.”
Our entire table stares at him in stunned silence.
“Wow,” Draven begins, his voiced laced with mocking amusement. “Who knew the little prince was such a poet?”
Shock, and what looks an awful lot like panic, pulses across Orion’s face for a fraction of a second. As if he can’t believe that he just said all of that out loud. Then he quickly hides it behind a mask of dangerous threats. Tearing his gaze from Isera, he shifts his now dark eyes to Draven.
“Watch your mouth,” he warns.
“Or what?” Draven flashes him a smirk full of challenge. “You’ll composemea poem as well?”
Indignant fury flashes across Orion’s face, and his eyes begin to glow as he starts channeling magic. Draven just sits there and holds his gaze, daring him to do it. For a few seconds, it looks like he actually will. But then the glow fades from his eyes as he releases his grip on his magic instead.
Draven snickers. “Thought so.”
“Oh I wouldn’t relax yet, if I were you.” Orion flashes him a sharp smile. “I simply prefer to strike when my victims least expect it. Better sleep with one eye open, you brooding beast.”
Draven stretches his muscular arms above his head and yawns, the epitome of lazy confidence. “Once you’ve worked up the courage, you know where to find me.”
Lightning flashes in Orion’s eyes, but before he can retort, Galen quickly changes the subject.
“Uhm, is anyone else’s food raw?” he asks, poking at the suspicious-looking pile in front of him with the point of his knife.
“Yes,” I reply. “I’m pretty sure my potatoes are raw as well.”
“I could fry them for you,” Alistair offers with a shrug.
All of us turn to stare at him. Well, everyone except Isera, who is still watching Orion with an unreadable expression on her face.
“What?” Alistair asks with a frown. “I have fire magic, remember?”
“Hmm,” Lyra mumbles through a mouthful of carrot. “Technically, we have fire too.”
“Well, yeah, but to use it, you need to turn into a dragon.” He waves a hand at the hollowed out tree trunk that we’re currently occupying. “Let me know how that goes for you.”
Draven chuckles.
I watch him while trying to memorize that wonderful sound.
As if noticing my stare, his gaze shifts to me. And that smile is immediately wiped off his face. Instead, hatred flares up in his eyes and he clenches his jaw.
That dark wave inside me threatens to crash over me, but I cling to that small spark of hope as I hold his gaze. He felt something other than hatred when we passed by that rock wall. I know it. He knows it. And if he felt it once, he can feel it again.
Draven flexes his hand.
Then he abruptly stands up from the beautifully sculpted table and shoves his chair back. “I need some air.”
Without waiting for a reply, he stalks towards the door.
The others stare at him in surprise. But before Galen can follow him, I leap up from my seat and start after him.
“We’ll be right back,” I promise before hurrying after Draven.
Warm evening winds wash over me as I step out of themassive tree trunk and back onto the grass outside. The sun has almost slipped behind the horizon now, and only a few streams of light hit the mass of normal trees and vines that surround the dryad’s massive tree homes.
Turning my head from side to side, I scan the area for Draven and quickly find him pacing the ground on my left. A few dryads are moving between the tree trunks a short distance away, but as opposed to the ones inside, they don’t pay us any mind. Straightening my spine, I stride over to Draven.
