Page 178 of The Edge of Darkness

“You two sound like you’re more fated for each other than Niall and I are,” I joked.

“Instant best friends,” Roirdan said, chuckling behind the rim of his mug.

Niall strode to the table beneath the window and poured himself a drink. “I still remember the way the generals looked at you when you punched me like that.”

“Yeah, because I was the only one who didn’t know who you were.”

“And now you’re telling all those males what to do. They never saw that one coming, did they?”

Roirdan snickered. “That’s another thing Niall changed when he came into power, Auren. He put the army under the command of one instead of many. All the generals who’d come before were suddenly outranked by a single leader who answered only to the High Lord. Me. I was the commander.”

“And the ranks have never been stronger than they are now,” Niall said, raising his glass.

Roirdan raised his in return, but his attention shifted as Nivelle stepped into the room. Their stares met, and held.

Niall grinned, his eyes dancing back and forth between the witch and the commander. “Something to drink, Nivelle?” he asked, snapping the line of tension that had strung its way across the room.

“Yes,” she answered, stalking to my side of the settee.

Roirdan quickly, and quite loudly, cleared his throat as he reached up to tug the collar away from his neck, like it had suddenly grown too tight.

“We were just talking about what’s to be expected tonight,” I said, giving Roirdan a wink that earned me an abashed look in return.

I twisted in my seat toward Niall. “What can we expect tonight, my love?”

“Vahrenhall’s best,” he answered, extending a drink to Nivelle as she passed by. “Firelight, ale, music, wild inclinations . . .” He took a slurping sip as he leveled his stare at his commander.

I could practically feel Roirdan’s silent demand as he glared back.

Stop. Antagonizing. Me.

And. Her.

Silas’s door opened, then Remic’s, and the mood in the room shifted once more.

“What did we miss?” Silas asked, frowning as he noted the awkward silence.

“Nothing,” I chimed. “You’re right on time.”

Niall handed both Dionachs a drink and clinked his mug with theirs. “Calledan’s color suits you,” he said to Silas, who was, for once, dressed in solid black, courtesy of Niall’s request to the tailor.

I had to give my mate credit. He had impeccable taste, and the thoughtfulness wasn’t lost on any of us. Even Nivelle stole a glance down at her dress, admiring herself.

Her black dress had a thin trimming of gray fur that skimmed the ground as she walked. The top of the dress was reinforced with boning to keep its shape, outlining her gentle curves and allowing the garment to stay in place, while the neckline swooped low, revealing her collarbone and the small swells of her breasts. Swaths of black fabric draped off her shoulders, cinched into place at the top of the bodice with a decorative silver pendant at each side.

Roirdan was going to be at war trying not to stare at her all night. And if his squirming was any indication, he was already losing the battle.

For once, Remic and I weren’t dressed in black. He wore a tailored charcoal gray doublet that accentuated his broad shoulders, and I donned a long, sleeveless, form-fitting dress, the color of the deepest wine, something I’d found in my armoire weeks ago and had been saving for an occasion that called for it.

I caught Niall studying the shape of my body from across the room, his eyes turning a heated golden tone as they roamed over me from head to toe. When he finally met my eyes, he said, “You’re forgetting the second half of the outfit.”

He was right, Gareth, err—Folquin, had crafted an accentuating piece that went with this particular dress.

I started toward our bedchamber, but Niall summoned the item from his pocket in space and held it out for me, so I sauntered up to him instead.

“Do I ever get to take a peek into that secret space of yours to see what all you randomly stow away at your convenience?”

“Maybe one day, if you’re good.” He winked, then smiled in that devastatingly handsome way he always did, making me want to fall to my knees before him. “Turn around,” he instructed softly.