Page 24 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

“Do you like it?”

“It’s delicious.” She smiles at me, and for a moment our eyes lock.

“As are you,” I say carefully, lightly, unsure how it will be received.

Her gaze flicks down to my forearms, where my sleeves are still rolled up. And then up to my lips.

The air between us sizzles.

My fingers curl into fists, holding myself back from jumping over the table and claiming her right now. This is why the sacrifice is traditionally only one night. And why this dinner has to be public.

Over her shoulder, Corvin approaches the table. It’s impossible not to see him, determinedly walking towards us.

My lust shifts instantly to aggression, and I breathe in deeply, stiffening my spine. The claim makes me possessive and protective.

A porter stops him. Our plates are nearly empty, but the waiters haven’t yet approached to clear them. I could wait. But eventually, this dinner will be over.

“I apologize, but a lot of people would very much like to meet you…” I say, rolling my sleeves down.

“You apologize a lot for a god.” She reaches across the table and touches my hand. “It’s okay.” The feeling in my chest intensifies, becoming almost painful.

I break eye contact first, pulling back.

I catch Corvin’s eye and gesture him forward once my sleeves are down. The man has an oily smile, and his gaze lingers on Yen’s body when he takes and kisses her hand.

When he’s finished, he pauses, her hand still in his.

Yen looks uncomfortable. My neck prickles with irritation.

Corvin seems oblivious to the tension. But he’s Oceanic, and they excel at playing games with others. “It is an honor to meet the sacrifice. I do hope we will have a dance tomorrow,” he says.

“But you are not dancing now,” I say icily. “The lady would appreciate her hand back.” The warning in my tone is clear.

He shoots me a look of alarm, and drops her hand hastily, stepping back.

“You are quite something, to catch the eye of a god,” he continues to Yen.

“I’m sure she appreciates your approval,” I say icily.

He laughs. “I’m so glad the lord is done grieving his deceased wife, Queen Yvette.”

Yen’s gaze turns to me, and I glare at Corvin. My stomach rolls with anger and unease. He bows, damage done, and retreats.

Yen takes a sip of her wine, avoiding my gaze. “My wife died a long time ago.” I hear the stiffness in my voice. “It’s something I could not control.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, gaze averted. Does she think I am still grieving and not ready to move on? Perhaps I wasn’t sure of this myself, before tonight. But now I know for certain, and I wish for her to know it too.

I want to say more, to catch her eye again, but there is now a line of visitors waiting, and I’m not sure what to say that could repair this damage.

Guilt gnaws at me, and the uncomfortable realization that I want to throw every waiting diplomat out of my city, no matter the consequences.

The stream of visitors is more polite than Corvin, but they are clearly there to gawk at her and not engage in real conversation. Some ask polite questions about her family and life, probing unsubtly about whether she is likely to stay in Atlantis.

Her demeanor grows stiffer with every visitor. She hates it. And I’m growing increasingly aware of how exposed we are in this restaurant. Any of the diplomats could have ill intentions. These are not my people. By the tenth person, I've had enough.

“We’re done here,” I say abruptly, in the middle of another question about how long her studies are. I roll my right shoulder, the ever-present twinge playing up again.

“It was lovely to meet you,” Yen says politely, ending the exchange civilly while the porters tell the others waiting to leave.