Page 110 of A Warrior's Fate

The next person to enter would be Kai.

Isla counted every second that passed, half-listening to the man in the group before her. Baron, the farmer turned game trader, had lived in Surles for his entire life until ten years ago when all his crops started dying, so he moved to Ifera. Delta Atesh had been sent on behalf of Alpha Kyran to pay for the profit he’d lost and to buy the land off him. Now, he was as happy as could be with his livestock and hunted deer.

Isla was glad.

Just as she was about to make an excuse to get Eli to walk away or to leave everything of her own accord, the room fell wholly quiet.

Everyone went still.

Isla felt Kai before she saw him. Everyone did. He did nothing to mask that “alpha aura” of his. Nothing to hide the strength and power he had above them all.

As the double doors opened again, Isla’s breath caught.

She didn’t know if it was that general aura, the bond, the relief, or just the genuine attraction to something beautiful, but he looked—ethereal.

And alone.

Isla felt a pang in her chest. Of sadness. Of guilt.

A luna would be at his side in typical circumstances. An heir would’ve walked in a few minutes before. But he stood alone.

Everyone bowed their heads.

Distracted, Isla’s remained up for the slightest second. The tiny bit needed for him to find her. When they locked eyes, she dared to give him a soft smile, barely moving her mouth. He didn’t return it. He didn’t break his form. The stone expression of a leader. But she did feel something. Not an alpha’s reach, but something like a caress through the bond. Just for her.

She’d be concerned over what that meant about its strength later.

Finally following the suit of everyone else, Isla dipped her head.

But it wasn’t before noticing that there’d been someone else who’d remained lifted. A beautiful woman a few yards away, with long, sleek black hair, pulled back by a tiara much more extravagant than Isla’s, with jewels of blue that matched her eyes. Her silver gown fit her generous curves like a glove. As she smiled, Isla could only surmise her as Deimos made flesh.

“Thank you all for coming,” Kai said, voice loud and assured, filling the room. He’d make a grand speech later in the night after the dinner, but for now, as they all looked up, he told them, “Please, enjoy.”

And then the party recommenced.

Before the actual eating began, Kai made his rounds, greeting his guests. Isla had a faint idea of where he was in the room. Not only through the bond, but through the way the guests seemed to gravitate towards him. The party grew lopsided when he’d been off to sides and corners. Once again, she had to listen to all the plans, hear all the giggles. A dance, a kiss, finding their way into his bed.

Some had sounded so confident in their chances until they were reminded by their cohorts of a name. One that made Isla’s blood boil.

Amalie.

Amalie was here. At this party. Somewhere.

“Are you having fun?”

Isla felt a warm hand on her back, felt the gentle brush of a thumb along her skin. She looked up at Eli whose eyes were slightly glazed over from the alcohol he’d consumed. He’d been getting a bit touchier as the night progressed. Enough so that the questions of is this your mate became more and more frequent.

Just as Isla was about to pull away from his touch, she felt it. A dark cloud. A sharp tug. She whirled around, enough to escape Eli’s hold, and found herself face to face with Kai.

She could confidently say that she had never, ever been looked at the way that Kai gazed upon her then. With such intent, ferocity, and hunger. All that power, all that predatory focus honed in on her, on her body. He was stripping her down with his eyes bit by bit. She honestly thought he was about to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and take her out of that room. Or maybe clear off the banquet table and have her right there.

And maybe she’d let him, even if everyone was watching, though they were pretending not to.

They’d match with their outfits if it weren’t for her crimson jewelry. His tailored black suit jacket stitched with, not identical, but similar corded patterns on its lapels. Isla was too distracted by how good he looked to ponder if he’d done it on purpose as a joke for the two of them, a way to get under her skin.

Neither of them was laughing.

Isla bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as she shuffled on her feet, heat rising in her blood, between her legs.

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