Page 66 of Swift Wings Shadowed Heart
Damn!I lower my eyes to my empty plate. I don’t need him anymore, but would it be so bad if I?—
—Don’t even think about it,Zephyros pipes in out of nowhere.
—What?! Get out of my head. This is none of your concern.
—He’s a weakling.
—A weakling? He’s the most powerful man in Embernia.
He huffs, which seems to be one of his favorite ways to express himself. I imagine him blowing air through his large nostril, wherever he is.
—In my lair, in the bowels of the plateau, he says.
—Then take a nap and let me worry about my own affairs.
—A female must select a strong mate.
—How dare you? You have no?—
Nate stands in front of me across the table, holding his food tray. My shoulders tense as I ready myself to jump to my feet. Phoebe and Adelaide mirror my reaction.
“I’d like to sit here, if that’s all right with you?” His dark eyes purposely meet everyone’s gaze.
“Nate,” Phoebe says, “we don’t want any trouble.”
“I don’t either. I just… well, let me say, I don’t see eye to eye with Silas anymore.”
I frown. I’ve always thought of Nate as a good guy, but I don’t feel I can trust him. “Get back to your friends, Nate.”
“They’re not my friends. Robert and Lysander never were, and maybe I never knew Silas.”
“Did he send you here to spy?” I ask.
Nate shakes his head. “Do you really think that poorly of me?” He pauses, giving me a chance to answer. When I don’t, he continues, “I’m not one of his lackeys, Rhea, but I understand. You’re right to feel suspicious.”
He turns and starts to walk toward an empty table. From across the room, I notice Silas’s intense look of contempt toward Nate. It could all be an act, but I have to trust my gut, and it’s telling me my good opinion of Nate hasn’t changed despite Silas’s actions.
“Nate,” I call.
He glances back over his shoulder.
“I’m good with you joining us if Phoebe and Adelaide are.”
Nate consults with the others, expression hopeful.
“Of course.” Phoebe nods.
His eyes light up.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Adelaide puts a finger over her mouth and taps it, making a show of considering. “He tells the worst jokes.”
“He really does,” I agree.
“That’s not true.” Nate returns and sets his tray on the table. “Phoebe appreciates my sense of humor. Don’t you, Phoebe?”
She giggles, blushing.
“See.” Nate pulls a chair out and sits. “She must be remembering the one about the dragon who quit his job at the bakery because he was sick of getting burnt out.”
