Page 46 of Realm of Wind and Vines
“I can see that,” Isera retorts. “What was it, and a note with a command on it, doing on my bed?”
“It wasn’t a command.”
“The note said,wear me.”
He waves his hand nonchalantly and flicks a glance up anddown her body while he gracefully steps over the discarded dress and closes the distance between them. “I just thought you might want to wear something other than fighting leathers.”
I suck in a sharp breath.
In a heartbeat, Isera has grabbed him by the collar and summoned a shard of ice. Her blue and silver eyes flash dangerously as she yanks Orion’s face down to hers and presses the shard of ice against his throat.
“If you ever presume to think for me, or give me orders, again, I will slit your throat,” she warns.
A slow smile spreads across his lips, full of unapologetic challenge. “It’s just a dress.” He slides his tongue lightly along his bottom lip while raking his gaze up and down her body. “And you would look lethally beautiful in it.”
Tension crackles through the air like lightning as they just stare each other down in silence for another second. Then Isera abruptly dismisses the shard of ice and uses her grip on Orion’s shirt to shove him back a step. However, because the Unseelie King is both taller and more muscular than her, he only lets her shove him back less than half a step. His eyes glitter with wicked amusement as he watches her.
“If you like the dress so much,youwear it,” Isera snaps.
“Sure.” That devilish smile on his lips widens as he begins unbuttoning his fancy shirt. “But if you wanted me to take my clothes off…again,” he adds with a knowing look, “you really could’ve just said so.”
My jaw almost drops when Isera actuallyblushes.
Heat flushes her cheeks, and her mouth opens a little, but no words make it out.
Orion stops trying to unbutton his shirt and instead cups her cheek. A truly villainous smile decorates his gorgeous face as he slides his thumb over her bottom lip and then across her flushed cheek.
“Perfection,” he murmurs.
She slaps his hand away.
Across the room, Lyra, Alistair, and Galen look between the two of them in confusion.
“Uhm, did we… miss something?” Alistair asks.
Isera flicks her gaze to him. Her eyes widen in surprise when she realizes that he is wearing a fancy tunic in Orion’s signature dark blue and silver. As is Galen. And both Lyra and I are wearing elegant shirts in the same colors as well.
When I got to the room that Orion assigned to me here in the castle, I found a set of fresh clothes waiting on the bed. A pair of nice black pants and an elegant dark blue shirt, with a few silver details on it, in a style that leaves my shoulders bare. I destroyed the white shirt that I wear under my fighting leathers when I wrapped it around Draven in that cave, so I gratefully put on the fresh clothes that Orion provided, since I didn’t want to wear the thick leathers while eating dinner.
The only person who apparently insisted on wearing his own clothes is Draven, who has been standing by the wall in his black dragon scale armor and watching the unfolding events with an amused smirk on his lips.
When Isera realizes that everyone else received clothes to wear as well, she starts in surprise and then snaps her gaze down to the dress on the floor. For a fraction of a second, I swear I can see a wave of embarrassment crash over her face before she manages to hide it behind that impassive mask that she usually schools her features into.
Clearing her throat, she simply strides over to the table and takes a seat. Behind her back, Orion lets out a silent chuckle while absolute victory shines on his face. Whatever weird game they’re playing, he apparently won this round.
Chairs scrape against the rich dark blue carpet as we all sit down around the beautifully decorated dining room table. It’s the same private dining room that we gathered in when we first came to the Unseelie Court several months ago now.
The chandelier filled with faelight gems casts sparkling light across the room, making it look like stars are dancing over the beautiful landscapes and night skies that are shown in the paintings on the walls. Just like last time we were here, there are nine chairs around the table. Four plain ones on either side of the table, and then one grand high-backed one at the head of the table.
This time, however, Isera doesn’t insist on sitting as far from Orion as possible. Instead, all six of us claim the chairs closest to Orion’s fancy one.
A moment later, a group of smartly dressed fae men and women walk through the door with plates of food and pitchers of wine. Once we have all been served, they bow to their king and then retreat again.
“Well then,” Orion begins, and swirls his wine while glancing towards Galen and the others. “How did our other group fare?”
Galen looks to Draven, who nods.
“It took some convincing, but the Blue Clan will stand with us,” Galen announces with a small smile on his lips.
