Page 43 of To Wake a Kingdom

“Kianna!” the man shouted next, and I gave her an incredulous look.

She broke into a small smile and raised her hands in a gesture of supplication.“I thought it might be fun.”

“Indeed,” I said as her partner’s name was read. “Liam!” A man with close-cropped black hair and kind eyes stepped forward. He was irrefutably handsome.

With an elbow, I nudged Kianna. “Enjoy yourself, my friend.” We both appraised Liam with a satisfied nod as he bowed to Kianna and held out an elbow. They melted into the crowd without a backward glance.

“Meredith!” the man shouted next. A woman perked up, searching the crowd as if she could pick out her partner before the bowl had its say. At least ninety years old, she was barely the height of my shoulder, and I didn’t know how she could see anything past the press of bodies.

“I guess we have needs, no matter how old we get,” I said to Noah. He gave an audible snort.

“Noah!” cried the man, and it was my turn to snort before I clapped a hand over my mouth. Noah had turned pale, his mouth opening and closing like a puppet.

I slapped him on the back.“The bowl is never wrong. Have a good night,” I said, trying to keep the mirth out of my voice.

With a shove from me, he shuffled forward as Meredith approached, crooking a finger and batting a set of come-hither eyes. She dragged Noah off, and the last thing I saw was his wild mane of hair disappearing into the crowd.

Laughing so hard, my face hurt, I wondered if Ronan had seen this. As I scanned the plaza, my stomach plummeted like a star shot from the sky. He was sitting at our table with a very attractive and very busty blonde on his lap.

Their noses were nearly touching, her hand on his face and her breasts practically pressed to his throat. His manner easy and relaxed, he was laughing at something she was saying. My throat tightened, and air lodged in my windpipe as I attempted to swallow. Tears of amusement morphed into poison, my eyes burning with the attempt to hold them in.

Turning away, I shoved through the throngs of milling people. They pressed in, stone columns taking root, unyielding to my jostling. I needed to get out of here. What a fool I’d been, imagining all of this. Building a fantasy in my head. What did I think? I’d already heard about another woman last night. Did I think I was special?

Panic rose in my chest as I maneuvered through the thick crowd, ale-soaked bodies lurching in my path. The noise became unbearable, the white lights and paper hearts mocking me as I shoved harder, not heeding where I was going. Finally, I burst through the edge of the crowd and picked up my skirt, running as fast as I could over the snow-covered pavement.

Inside the inn, I dashed for the stairs, ignoring Verna’s greeting. I needed to get to my room and be alone. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this. My breath tight, I slammed the door and pressed my back against it.

For a few minutes, I allowed my emotions to spiral unchecked, sinking into a well of unfulfilled wishes. Eventually, I forced myself to calm down by throwing open the window and sucking in deep breaths of clean winter air.

He was only a man. An exceptionally beautiful one who made me forget my own name, but this would never work. Even if he shared the same feelings, this could be nothing more than a hope. There was too much between us—too much he didn’t know. There were lies and secrets and an ostensible ticking clock hanging over us like a jagged rusty blade.

I’d allowed myself to indulge in the distraction of his presence, but this holiday had come to an end. I had to break this curse. I had to save my family from Mare and then, somehow, save myself. The last thing I needed was to wallow in thoughts about a man who wasn’t interested.

Too weary to change out of my bright red dress, I flopped on the bed, face pressed into the blanket. Footsteps thudded outside my door, and I went still, holding my breath. There was a knock.

“Thorne?” Ronan called. “Are you okay? What happened?” The concern in his voice was unmistakable, but I steeled myself against it. It was childish, but I refused to answer, hoping he’d go away.

Hands clenched in the quilt, I waited as he stood silently on the other side of the door. I could almost feel his indecision seeping through the wood, but after a few moments, his boots scraped the floor, and I heard him walk away.

A scream jolted me awake, my heart racing. I’d dozed off after Ronan had left, my dress puffing in a cloud of red around me. Another scream pierced the air, frantic and desperate.

“Get away from me!” It was Kianna, and it was coming from outside. Without thinking, I pulled out the dagger strapped to my thigh and pounded down the stairs, red lace and tulle whispering along the floors and narrow halls.

The common room held only a few stragglers passed out at tables. I raced out of the inn, trying to discern the direction of Kianna’s screams. The sky was still dark. I heard another loud plea and took off.

Behind the inn was an alley, about six feet across. Neatly stacked crates lined the walls, the ground covered in a thin layer of trampled snow. Four figures stood in the gloom, cast in the glow of the early morning sky.

Kianna perched on her tiptoes, back pressed against the wall. Her wings beat against the brick, thumping like a bumblebee smacking into a window.

Maida, the blood Fae, stood in front of her. Waxing light glinted from his dark silver hair while his companion, Alban, held on to Em, both arms pinned behind her back. Her teeth were bared as she tried to free herself from the blond Fae’s grasp, her eyes never leaving Kianna.

“Let go of me,” Em snarled.

Alban threw Em to the ground with such force that she let out an agonized cry, and then he stalked for Kianna. “Come on, precious little doll. We just want a taste. I’ve heard so many tales about the pleasures of winged Faerie blood. It will only hurt a little.”

A memory came unbidden, rearing up like the head of a hungry dragon.

I just want a taste.

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