Page 4 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

Lukas’s thin lips curled in a sneer. “A visitor. How lovely.”

He somehow made the words sound as if he’d just discovered shit on the bottom of his boot.

The feeling was mutual. Though for Ronan, there was a definite undercurrent of relief at the sight of his mark. He was ready for this to be over, weary down to the tattered remains of his soul.

The crowd backed away as their boss called on his magic and floated down from the metal structure. While their lust for blood—namely Ronan’s—was as potent as ever, it was clear this was now Nightshade’s show. And they wanted front row seats.

“Well, you went to all this trouble to find me. Might as well tell me what you want. I can’t promise you’ll get it, of course, but I do find myself wildly curious.”

Never taking his gaze off the man stalking toward him, Ronan tipped his chin to the side and spat. Lukas eyed the pink-tinged spittle with a grimace.

“Not much of a talker, are you? That’s all right.”

“He was mouthy ’nuff before.”

Ronan’s eyes found Linda hovering to the left of the crowd. She took two scuttling steps back as he pinned her with his gaze.

“Perhaps he’s regretting his decision to come poking around where he wasn’t invited. Fear has a tendency to make one lose their words. Its sister, pain, however, tends to do the opposite. Shall we test the theory?”

Snickers rang out.

Ronan snorted. “There’s not much I’m afraid of, but I assure you, a rat doesn’t make the list.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then why the mask, friend? If you’re so unafraid, show us who you really are.” Lukas’s smug smile was telling. The prick was showboating. He intended to draw this out and make it a real spectacle.

Ronan inwardly sighed and suppressed the urge to call on his power. The arse wouldn’t be nearly so smug with a broken jaw. Or if he was on fire.

His voice was a bored drawl when the throng of onlookers quieted enough for him to speak. “The mask is for your protection.”

“Myprotection?” Nightshade laughed, drawing out several others all around them. “Sir, I don’t think you realize just what a world of shit you’ve found yourself in. Do you have any idea who I am?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say it...

You know what? Fuck it.If ever there was a time.

“I think the more pertinent question, Nightshade, is do you have any idea whoIam?”

Lukas raked his cool gaze over Ronan’s form. “I know everyone worth knowing. You don’t rank among them.”

Ronan’s lips twitched. “You’ve heard of me. I guaran-fucking-tee it.”

Little gasps sounded throughout the room. These people weren’t used to someone openly confronting their boss. They likely couldn’t wait to see what would happen next. Frankly, neither could Ronan. He just wanted to get on with it.

Nightshade stiffened, his smile a frozen, brittle thing. It hadn’t ever been friendly, but his voice was icy with anger as he snapped, “There’s no one more notorious than me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“The Kiri herself could walk that sweet arse of hers in here, and not even she could claim the same. She may be known throughout Elysia, but my name is a thing of legends. It’s whispered about in lands you’ve probably never even heard of.”

Ronan laughed at that, his first genuine laugh in months. “More famous than Helena? The goddess of all creation’s divine vessel? Next you’re going to try to convince me you’re Luna herself.” Tears blurred his eyes by the time he managed to control himself. “Mother’s tits, I needed that. Go on, tell me another. I haven’t been this entertained in years.”

Nightshade wasn’t smiling any longer. “I grow tired of your games.”

“Games? Who’s playing?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Tell me who you are. I want to make sure we know what name to etch on your grave after I make your insides your outsides.”

“Eh, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

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