Page 8 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

Ronan’s single-minded focus would never be mistaken for deference or submission. It was a blatant challenge. A taunt. One alpha male squaring off with another.

The celebratory atmosphere of the ballroom shifted with his entrance. The excited chatter morphed into curious whispers. Shadow understood the crowd’s confusion. These ceremonial, high society events were filled with pomp and circumstance. For the guest of honor to casually stroll in off the street... it was a disruption to the natural order of their small worlds.

The conversation taking place beside her only underscored it.

“I thought he was supposed to be announced and escorted in by Dovina,” Dominic asked, the general stepping in close so he could voice the question discreetly.

“He was,” Erebos confirmed, his lips barely moving.

“So where is my sister?”

“Yes, that is the question, isn’t it?” Erebos’s voice was tight, the question clipped. The High Lord wasnotamused.

Shadow couldn’t help but be impressed Ronan had managed to give the infamous Raven the slip. The woman knew everything. Saw everything. It was a testament to Ronan’s skill that he found a way to circumvent her. Though, she knew it wouldn’t be long before word reached the spymaster.

As if on cue, Dovina swept into the ballroom, craning her neck from side to side as she sought out her prey. The bright spots of color tinging her cheeks were the only outward sign of her anger. When she found him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her eyes narrowed.

Before she could reach him and try to regain the upper hand, Ronan’s voice rang out, effectively shutting up every other person in the ballroom.

“I’ve come to collect my boon.”

Dammit, Ronan, when are you going to stop collecting enemies the way other men collect notches in their bedposts? Was pissing off the most powerful man in the realm not enough for one day? You had to go for the entire trifecta? Is it that you simply have no sense of self-preservation, or do you really just yearn for death? And if that’s the case, why couldn’t you have clued me in earlier so I could help you out with that instead of going on to make such a complete spectacle out of myself?

There was no helping him now. He was going to pay the price for making fools of the High Lord and his court. Still... she couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. The man knew how to make an impression. First day—no, not even day—firsthouron the job, and he’d already pissed off Empyria’s elite.

Erebos stiffened, his lips curling up in a tepid smile that did not remotely reach his eyes. Though his voice remained deceptively light as he called out, “Well, yes, that is quite the point of this little gathering.”

Titters rippled along the room, the crowd’s confidence returning at the High Lord’s playful volley. They thought this was planned. A little performance for their amusement to echo the day’s dramatics.

Idiots.

“He’s like a groom on his wedding night, isn’t he?”

More laughter.

“What is it you seek, Champion, that’s made you so eager you can’t even wait”—Erebos tilted his head toward Dmitri, who supplied an answer to the unspoken prompt.

“Twenty minutes, my liege.”

“Twenty more minutes?” Erebos finished.

“Well, you see...” Ronan tossed him a smile that, were it a blade, would cut to the bone. “It occurred to me that time might be of the essence, and after a day such as today...” He shrugged casually, and the crowd chuckled at his unexpected reference to nearly having his throat slit.

Erebos’s smile tightened. Shadow knew it must be killing him to learn his loyal citizens were so easily wooed by a roguish grin and impressive set of muscles.

“I was simply loath to waste a second of it.”

“Is that so? Very well, you have our attention. What is it you desire as your reward, Champion?”

Everyone, including her, held their breaths as they waited to find out what the High Lord’s new Champion would do or say next.

They were not disappointed.

Without missing a beat, Ronan lifted his hand and pointed directly at Shadow, finally shifting his gaze from the High Lord to the woman at his side.

“Her.”

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