Page 44 of Insurrection
“Good boy,” she bit out before demanding, “Now go. Go get the little hybrid freak, and make sure you secure the vote tonight. I don’t care what you need to do to make that happen.”
I leaned against the wall as I heard two pairs of footsteps walk in the opposite direction. I let out a slow breath and considered turning the corner, but then I didn’t have to. Face-to-face with a tuxedo-clad chest and enveloped by a warm, familiar scent, I raised my eyes—first to the tattoo-covered neck, then to familiar violet eyes. I would like to say I didn’t tear up a bit as my eyes met Finias’, but that would be a lie.
The man’s emotions were absolutely laid bare upon his face, and he did nothing to try to hide them from me, his fingers brushing over my jaw before he pressed his forehead to mine. He knew I’d heard.
Hell, he’d probably known I’d been there from the start. He had stood up to his parents for me, and it had gotten him hurt.
“Fin,” I whispered. He shook his head, nearly brushing his lips against mine and keeping me pinned to the wall, seemingly overcome by whatever was going on in his head.
I wrapped my arms around him and let out a small sound as I nuzzled against his chest, probably getting makeup on it, which I felt bad about. He only held me closer, clearly not caring.
We must have stood in that bubble, in that moment, for several minutes, his body slowly unlocking from the tension. Each muscle that unlocked seemed to allow him to breathe easier. He was also wrapping himself around me far more. So much so that he had me completely encompassed and pressed between him and the wall when I began to run my hands gently through his short, white hair.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Ama.”
His voice was cold and unemotional, but the way he was touching me was anything but. I pulled back slightly, taking in his expression as his eyes ran over every inch of my face. As if he was looking for something. What, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to assure him that whatever he needed, I could give him. It sounded absurd, but I meant that fully. I was starting to realize that I was forming a very deep connection with Finias, and it wasn’t one that would ever go away—unless it was broken painfully.
“I want to kill them,” I hissed, anger coursing through me. “I want to kill her for slapping you. For hitting you at all.”
A sad warmth filled his gaze as he brushed his nose against mine, “She’s not worth your time. You’re far more valuable than anything regarding her. And me, if we are being honest.”
“Don’t say that.” I gripped his jaw and searched his face, “I love spending time with you. You always lift my spirits, and I feel like a smile is permanently glued to my face when we’re together.”
His eyes filled with emotion, almost appearing to make the purple glow, before he let out a small sound, as if he was fighting something in his head. He offered me a more “Finias” smile and nodded towards the hall, intertwining our fingers as if none of what had transpired in the past few minutes had happened.
“No matter what they do, I won’t play politics. Not with you.” He spoke softly, and my heart warmed.
“I know. I trust you.”
The smile he rewarded me with was absolutely gorgeous. Actually, all of him was gorgeous, from the dark tuxedo on his lean, muscled physique to the tattoos that covered every available inch of his skin.
“I imagine Drayven won’t be happy about me taking you to the ball.” He chuckled then, and it jogged my memory of last night.
I shrugged, “He disappeared this morning after coming back drunk…so, I don’t care.”
“That’s not true.” Finias squeezed my hand, and I swallowed at how easily he saw through me. “But he was, in fact, drunk, and I did, in fact, almost slit his throat last night.”
“So casual, the manner in which you speak about the act of slitting someone’s throat,” I observed, my brows raising in amusement.
“He told me I would never be good enough for you.” His jaw clenched hard before he continued, “Hit a bit too close to home.”
“Don’t pay him any mind, Finias. You know how I feel,” I assured him, then exhaled, “Plus he’s totally in the dog house right now for being an ass.”
“The dog house, huh? What did he do?” Finias’ smile was growing, as if he found Dray’s suffering funny, and I couldn’t lie—the two squabbled like brothers did, whether they realized it or not.
“Remember the first kiss thing I told you about in the courtyard the night we met?” I asked softly.
“How could I forget? I forced him to take a nap on the ground with my fist.” He scowled with the memory.
“He lied,” I murmured, “I never hurt him. Never began sucking the soul from him. He lied to keep people away from me and to put distance between us.”
Finias stopped me and grabbed my hand, pulling me against him. “What do you mean?”
We were a hallway turn away from the ballroom, yet I still felt like we were completely alone, enclosed in our own private bubble.
“He did it so that I would be considered a danger and an outcast. So that people would stay away from me. So that no one would even attempt to touch me. But he also wanted distance between us because of lies the council back home told him about me as they groomed him to take over the throne.”
“How did you finally find out?”
