Page 180 of The Edge of Darkness

“It’s not that kind of—” I stopped myself short of the explanation, frustrated with the fact that I didn’t really know what it was that bothered me about her. “She’s just . . . different.”

Remic nodded. “Mmm. You like ‘different.’”

Did I? Or did I hate it so much it seemed like an enticing challenge? Or was it the very challenge she posed that drew me to her in the first place?

Fates, my head began to spin, and I hadn’t even had a second drink yet.

“If you’d like for me to put in a word for you, I can.”

“I’ll shove you into those torches, Remic.”

His low, deep laugh was enough to draw the witch’s attention to us. She whipped her head around, as if she had already suspected we were talking about her, and the laugh was just enough to confirm it. Before she could open her mouth to say what I was sure would have been a very targeted threat, Auren grabbed her by the arm and tugged her forward.

Remic was probably right. Talking to her might help.

We hadn’t actually talked much at all. It was more like yelling or snapping at each other every time words came out of our mouths. Maybe after another drink—or twelve—I’d try for a civilized conversation with her.

Maybe.

I hadn’t noticed if music had been playing before, but now the drums were pounding, and the fiddles were rich in rhythm, filling the valley with sound. The song echoed off the tall stones that encompassed the area.

Hundreds of orbs floated above, and multiple pyres were lit. Just like every celebration here, fire was a necessity, and it was no shock to see several entertainers twirling it in their bare hands, dancing in the flames as others watched in awe.

Surprisingly, everyone was dressed in attire far finer than I was used to seeing, like they were attending an event held in Calledan and not one in an open field in the highlands. My uncle must have had a hand in that. He was a good leader, and an even greater friend—always making the utmost effort for those he cared about. Hosting a celebration for another court’s High Lord and Lady was a definitive testament to their strong alliance and friendship.

The host himself stepped out of the crowd and made his way toward us. As he walked, he raised both his hands, and the orbs above brightened, drawing everyone’s attention. The music quieted as he announced, “Our guests of honor, the High Lord and Lady of Calledan.”

The crowd clapped as Niall took Auren’s hand and spun her around. The rest of us gave them their space, and Vanir ushered them into a group of fae who were waiting nearby, a few of whom I recognized to be his dignitaries.

Remic slipped away into the shadows, seeking out drinks, while I scanned the crowd, finding other familiar faces—mostly wardens of Vanir’s Dreki legions. Like Calledan’s army, Vahrenhall had wardens who oversaw the different sections within it and ensured each of them functioned seamlessly with the rest.

Next to me, Silas folded his arms and took in the scene as the music picked back up. “I take it that the Highland Court is fascinated with fire.”

“What led you to that conclusion?” I joked.

He laughed, then paused a moment before asking, “So this is the court you come from?”

“It is . . .” I swung my stare over to him, wondering how he⁠—

“I overheard you and Auren talking.”

“Ahh.” Well, fuck. So much for keeping that story quiet.

“Do you miss it?”

“It’s in my blood, so I take it with me wherever I go regardless.” It wasn’t a real answer, but I didn’t quite have one that made sense.

Silas nodded like he understood. I wasn’t sure if he did, though. I didn’t know that much about him at all, really. Certainly not enough to know if he could truly relate in any way.

His first impression wasn’t a good one, and if I was being honest, part of me had been avoiding any type of confrontation or in-depth conversation with him simply because he’d also elected to call Auren “little one.” I was well aware that it was a petty reason to be at odds with someone, but when he’d swept in like he was about to save the fucking day in Benmoor, I wasn’t having it. Auren had become one of us, and I’d felt overly inclined to protect not only her but the dynamic we’d all pleasantly fallen into.

Things had settled since then, but I was still stomping around the barrier that was standing between us. I knew I would have to break the ice eventually, seeing as how he was Auren’s true Dionach, and would be a permanent part of our group. But where to start?

Weapons. That was always a good topic of conversation.

“I noticed that you carry twin blades.” I glanced down at the gold scabbard at his hip, which held the matching sword to the one strapped between his wings. “Any particular story behind them?”

He didn’t hesitate to withdraw the sword and hand it to me. “Nothing worthy of embellishment. I simply like having two blades . . . for the intimidation factor.”