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Behind him, the elf shifted. Chains rattled against the wall. With it came an idea; if she wished to pretend to whore herself out, then the rest of the court would come to know her as Anileta’s parting gift. They would play the part of Blooded Prince and courtesan while he would point her blade to those who knew the truth.
If Elarian wished to infiltrate his court and spill blood, he would gladly indulge her desires. Back still turned to the assassin in chains, Lucan uttered the words that he fervently hoped would hold back the tides of Aurelion’s wrath.
“You will be attending the council meeting today.”
Laughter followed—a raw, visceral sound that clawed at his mind. Lucan spun around, eyes twitching as the shadows writhing inside begged to swallow her whole. Words kept spilling from his lips, but he heard none of them. Elarian stared at him with such intensity that he almost felt his heart stutter to life. She burned from within, the blood thrumming through her veins calling to him; a whisper more beautiful than any other.
He couldn’t kill her yet. Not until he had silenced those who might unravel it all.
But did he still want to?
Instead of answering himself, he strode to the elf and wrenched her upright. Her breathy gasp lit a fire inside.
“Stay sharp, elf. We shall soon learn how beautifully you can sing for me.”
Assassin.
Courtesan.
The key to freedom.
Whatever game the gods were playing, he would see it through before Aurelion tore it away from him.
“You have rested enough. Dress yourself.”
“As I recall, you shredded my only clothing last night.”
Stars danced in her eyes, and Lucan couldn’t tell whether she enjoyed or reviled the memory. Elarian grabbed Lucan’s hand over her arm and tried to pry herself free, to no avail. She gave up nearly instantly, as if only feigning resistance.
Why are you here, Elarian?
Leaving his question unasked, Lucan huffed as his gaze wandered to the delicate, crimson silks at the foot of his bed.
“It seems I did. Perhaps it is best I dress you, then.” He tensed at the thought of running his hands over her soft curves again, drinking in her warmth until he melted.
“Perhaps you should.” The elf smiled, eyes guarded even as she leaned into his chest. “Otherwise, what’s to say I won’t slip a dagger between my thighs again?”
Lucan’s lips trembled at her words.
“Come now, darling. I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“Disappointed?” Her brow arched. “I was under the impression you preferred obedience.”
“Only from those incapable of entertaining me.”
“How fortunate, then, that I have spent the better part of a century plotting your murder.”
“And yet,” he said, his smile sharpening, “now you are here, collared like a rabid wolf with a mouth that is begging to learn a lesson.”
Elarian stilled for only a heartbeat, but it was long enough for him to see his words exhilarated her. Her pulse thrummed wildly in her veins as he grabbed her by the chin. Shadows curled into her mouth, thin tendrils looping around her throat, pressing into the bruises beginning to bloom beneath the iron collar.
“Didn’t anyone tell you not to touch wild animals?” The venom in her words thrilled him more than he expected.
“No.” His gaze lingered on her lips. “Because the fun lies in their bite. And you, Elarian…” Lucan shoved down on her shoulders until she fell to the floor. “…are providing me the best entertainment in centuries.”
Elarian held his gaze a moment longer before offering him a smile as beautiful as it was murderous.
“One day,” she whispered, “that arrogance is going to get you killed.”
