Page 33 of Insurrection
“House of Hellfire,” I murmured, peeking over to where the two individuals Drayven had indicated leaned over talking to Damien in hushed tones. Soft violins and pianos had begun to play. Unfortunately, between the two, I couldn’t hear what they were saying to him.
The woman’s gaze snapped to mine, her amber eyes warming momentarily before shifting back at her son. Well, at least that was one person who didn’t hate me. I wasn’t saying she liked me, but she didn’t hate me, and that was a start.
“They hate King Celorn,” Drayven added. Ah, that explained it.
“Then you have King Roarke and Queen Ava.” His voice stayed low as he continued, and my gaze followed around the table, to the spot between Colt’s family and Damien’s. Immediately, my cheeks went up in flames because Finias was staring at me, openly. Drayven let out a sound from his chest, and I brought my elbow back slightly, scowling at him before looking back at Finias.
Except, he wasn’t looking at me anymore.
A man I could only assume was Finias’ father—the similar hair color and lean build were pretty telling—had a hand on Finias’ arm as he leaned down and whispered something. My gaze narrowed on the man’s grip, which was almost bruising. While I knew Finias was more than capable of defending himself, it made me uncomfortable to see how his father was treating him. It didn’t help that the woman standing next to him was watching her son with an indifferent, almost annoyed look.
When they took their seats, Finias looked back at me, and my chest squeezed at the flash of vulnerability—and something far darker—on his face. He immediately sealed off the emotion and kept his gaze on the table in front of him, his jaw tight as he tapped his fingers against the wood surface. His words from the night before, talking about his parents, echoed in my mind, and I found my temper growing as I considered the possibility that they were hurting Finias.
I nearly jolted at the screeching sound of a chair being pulled out, and I looked around to find Colt’s parents had returned. Colt was still staring at me, but his parents were talking heatedly, and his sigh of annoyance was clear as day from across the room. I turned back to Drayven, not wanting to spend more time than necessary focused on that jerk.
“That is King Marcelo and Queen Anastasia from the House of Sin.” My gaze continued around the circle to find Nico sitting between two beautiful individuals. Damn. The House of Sin was unsurprisingly filled with painfully attractive people, and their heir, Nico was no different.
I had thought he’d looked good when I first met him, but it was nothing compared to how he looked now. His sharp jawline was shaved clean, and rich brown hair, accented with caramel highlights, lay around his golden face. The man was aesthetically perfect, and I could tell that, underneath the outfit he was wearing, he had a body to match. His golden eyes darkened when they met mine, his wink and sexy smile causing my breath to hitch.
Drayven’s hand, which for some reason was still on my leg, tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Or maybe he did...I really wasn’t sure. I was far too caught up in watching how the king and queen from the House of Sin were interacting with members of their house. They were married, right? I was sure they were, but the way they were acting...
I watched as King Marcelo tugged one of the women near him onto his lap, pressing a kiss to her neck. The sexual energy from that side of the table was insane, and no one seemed phased by it in the least. Nico wasn’t even looking, and Queen Anastasia was surrounded by two men herself, laughing about something as they kept their hands on her.
Andthatwas why I denied that aspect of my nature.
I wasn’t positive why their actions bothered me. I had no issue with a healthy sex life… but something about them felt off. It felt so surface level. Empty. If I was going to feed off someone’s sexual energy and have sex, I wanted an emotional connection, not just the physical part.
The House of Sin didn’t treat sex that way though. For them, sex was transactional, like a meal or something else equally as utilitarian. It all left me with a bitter taste in my mouth, and I had to turn away from it as my mind flooded with painful thoughts of my mom.
“Holy shit.” I nearly choked on the water I’d tried to drink when I finally looked at the last three seats at the table. All I could see were the lightest, almost snow-white, blue eyes I’d ever encountered. They had specks of silver I could see from across the space, and they contrasted with his dark lashes so intensely that I wondered how they could be natural.
I blinked and tried to get a better look at the man. His dark hair was styled neatly and provided a stark contrast to his skin. My gaze ran down his jaw to the column of his throat, where his black suit started. It wasn’t a formal suit, in fact, the material looked almost like velvet, and his lean, muscled frame filled it perfectly. His large hand rested on the table as he relaxed back in his chair, watching me as I examined him.
A blush began to rise in my cheeks as I realized he had most likely heard my very verbal reaction to him and how I’d nearly choked on my water. There was no hiding it or my gawking at him, so I didn’t bother. In fact, the longer I looked at him, the more I realized how much there was to look at.
Then, I saw the tattoos peeking out from under his suit jacket at the wrist, and I felt ten times more intrigued than before. I swallowed and slowly met his gaze again, his eyes turning into a melted ocean blue for a moment before it seemed as if he slammed a wall up. His expression was almost naturally indifferent and apathetic to everything around him. Like all of this was a bore and he wanted to vanish at any moment.
Wraith. He was a Wraith, and that meant he had to be the heir from the House of Shadows.
“Adrien.” Drayven’s voice was tight and angry, and I saw the man glance at Drayven and nod once before looking back at me, his face completely void of emotion.
“House of Shadows?” I murmured from the corner of my mouth.
“His parents, King Victor and Queen Adira.” Who both looked equally as unimpressed as their son about everything going on.
I didn’t know much about the House of Shadows because they notoriously kept to themselves, but I didn’t get a bad vibe from them. Just a... nothing vibe. They seemed very clinical and distant in the way they were looking over everything.
I had a feeling that Drayven would maybe do better talking to them than I would. I wasn’t good when it came to quiet, reserved people—I tended to just bulldoze over them. It was usually embarrassing for me and sometimes for them. I just wasn’t good at peopling. Although...my gaze met Adrien’s again, and I wondered if maybe he wouldn’t mind it.
Ama! Damn it, no. Ignore the alluring men.This was for sure part of some plot to distract me from my goal here. There was no other way that I would happen to have a reaction like this to so many men in such a short period of time.
A crystal wine glass was placed in front of me, drawing my attention away from my problem as the server offered a bottle of wine. I nodded, and he filled my glass with white wine. My eyes darted down to the salad another server placed in front of me. Shit.No, no, no…
“It’s only the beginning. I’m sure there will be more,” Damien mused quietly, my eyes moving to him as I nearly sulked. I took a sip of wine and tipped my head back slightly, mustering the courage to fully immerse myself in the day and the night to come. Whatever that included.
Chapter Fifteen
Ama
