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What is goingon?
My awareness of my surroundings shatters as my attention snaps back towardhim.
Despite all my misgivings, I can’t help but stare.
He’s so still… and yet it feels like he could explode into violence at any moment.
He’s absolutely beautiful and utterly terrifying.
“Why are you here?” I ask, and even though I’m all fear and turmoil inside, my voice comes out sounding perfectly calm and even.
The pale demon reaches out.
The callused pads of his fingers gently graze my lower lip. They come away stained with a tiny smear of my blood.
He brings his fingers to his mouth and tastes it.Myblood.
He closes his eyes. A visible shudder courses through him. He takes a deep breath.
Nobody dares move. Nobody says a word. Even Kaithar is quiet.
The demon turns away, glancing down at my father. “Restrain him and take him to the dungeons,” he says quietly, his voice colder than the winter snow outside. “I will deal with him personally.”
“Y-you can’t do this,” my father protests, his voice hoarse; filled with outrage and disbelief. “I am a member of the Rahavannobility.Where is the Archduke Duthriss? I demand to speak with him at once.”
The demon makes a small gesture with his hand.
Kaithar leans in and whispers something soft and menacing in my father’s ear.
Father goes perfectly still. His men hang back, wisely reading the mood.
They’re outnumbered five to one. There’s nothing they can do here.
And the one commanding the situation with ridiculous ease is the man standing right before me.
He wields authority like a second skin.
Like he was born to it.
And his face…
Even though I have no idea who he is, now that I think about it, there’s a certain familiarity to his features. It’s jarring; as if some huge and obvious realization is about to hit me between the eyes, and yet my mind willnotaccept that answer.
It cannot be.
“Please, don’t kill him,” I say softly, sounding detached and emotionless. Because although my father is a cruel, petty fool, I don’t want him dead…
Do I?
The pale demon ignores my request. “Come with me, Finley Solisar.” His tone is stern and commanding; a whipcrack through the cold air.
Behind it, I sense fury, about to spill over.
My feet are frozen to the ground.
Why would I go with him? I don’t even know who he is.
Orwhathe is.
