Page 5 of Bound By Watchers

I bristled. His presence and beauty were overwhelming. His brown skin glowed beneath my hanging lights as his winged ears twitched with every flutter of his six wing pairs. How his body could fit in my parlor? I would never know.

He balanced against the counter, his legs crossed, as he tossed one of my vials from one hand to another. The hang of his auburn hair shrouded his expression, but the tension in his shoulders told me he wasn’t here to buy anything.

“To what do I owe this visit, my Lord?”

“Lord?” He snorted. “Spare me the bullrot. I’m here to collect you.” He continued tossing the vial back and forth between his palms. “My Higher Ranks would have a word.”

Offended at his brazen attitude, I stuck out my hip, placing a hand on it.

“Come now. I know you were taught better manners.” I batted my lashes. “Especially when dealing with a lady.”

“I’m dealing with a harlot dressed in silk.” He tilted his head, a glint cutting across his eyes. “You’re not worth my etiquette.”

Cheeks burning, my mouth fell into a small o. The Domenent pushed away from the counter, his wings dragging behind him.

“Let’s go. I can only pick off another like yourself from the corner of Louvrethre once I deliver you.” He winked, further stunning me.

Gods!

Insufferable angel.

“And if I say no?” I managed.

“No?” He barked a laugh, revealing perfectly straight teeth with sharpened canines. “Then this little hovel of yours will burn.” He smiled down at me. “With you in it.”

I gulped arid air, nodding once.

The Domenent sauntered past me without a backwards glance.

“Follow me, Lady Daliah.”

Daliah

I hated going to Louvrethre. It was as filthy as the depravity it housed.

Since the dregs of the Un’Sèlie kept the rotting place packed, there was no chance of building a petition to tear it down. My slippers slapped the dirt as I struggled to keep up with the Domenent. I thought he was going to fly off, leaving me in his dust. Strangely, he walked the entire time, which allowed me to stay close.

The streets of Kairyen were dark. Fae filled the streets, going from one revelry to another. I tuned out the squelching sounds of mouths sucking on exposed flesh. I turned from hands squeezing whatever they could grab. At a young age, I learned the way to survive Kairyen after dark was to keep my eyes forward, my feet moving, and a weapon slightly visible continually.

The Domenent crossed the trodden path leading to the entrance of Louvrethre, then paused. When I caught up, he turned his shifting blue eyes to me.

“Go inside, cross to the back, tell them you’ve been summoned.” His eyes caught onto something behind me. The shrewd curl of his lips told me it was fae in thin gowns and low morals. “Try to run, and your entrails will paint the ground before you make it to the door.”

With that, he brushed past me and floated to his next target. Burying my nerves, I patted down my skirts, tugged my hair forward to hide my face, and pushed into the tavern.

Two things hit me at once. The clamorous sound of wild music, and the stench of body odor and spilled wine.

I gagged but kept moving. Staying in one spot too long was dangerous. I stood out among the crowd with my silver gown and its fine obsidian embellishments. It would be a miracle if I crossed this damned tavern without being stopped and probed.

I dodged reaching hands, ducked under toasting goblets, and avoided the spill of wine. Fae women were seized and pressed against gyrating hips that craved more than just a dance. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to get swept into the fray. As I neared the back of Louvrethre, a Domenent, the size of a mountain, stepped into my path. My heart rate skyrocketed. The Domenent leered at me.

“Now, just what are you hiding under all these layers, mm?” His eyes twinkled, colored the shades of the rising suns.

“The intelligence you should be housing in that empty brain of yours.” I smiled sweetly, strutting past him. As I walked, I caught the shift in his expression. Gods, no. He grabbed my waist roughly and yanked. I stifled a scream as he pinched my side. Hard.

“What did you say?”

“Let her go, Telranèl. This one has an appointment. Your feathers would be plucked before you could have any fun.”

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