𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Twenty-Eight

Rhys sauntered towards the males with a confidence I envied.

    One word, he'd said. One word and we could go.

    But I could try. I owed him at least that.

    For tonight I could pretend. Pretend that I was torn apart inside. I could act like who I used to be.

    I stepped towards the males as well and Rhys' face lit up almost imperceptibly.

    The males were broad and powerful. Both tall with their wings tucked behind them neatly. Their muscled bodies were covered in dark scaled armor, glittering with jewels I'd read about called siphons. Red and Blue.

    Identical swords were strapped down the columns of their spines. I was glad I's chose a more simple dress after seeing their own clothes.

    The slightly larger of the two, his face masked in the shadow of the threshold spoke first, "Come on, Danika. We don't bite. Unless you ask us to."

    Cocky. I raised a brow forcing my expression into a challenge, "And you think I don't?" I questioned as I gave him a look that dared him to test me. The male chuckled as his grin widened.

    Rhys stuffed his hands into his pockets, "The last I heard, Cassian, no one has ever taken you up on that offer."

    The second one snorted, both of their faces at last illuminated as they turned towards the light of the dining room.

    Like their High Lord, the three were dark-haired and tan-skinned. But while Rhysands eyes were a vibrant light-colored purple, theirs were a soft Hazel that somehow made them even more intimidating.

    That was where their similarities ended.

    Cassian surveyed Rhys from head to foot, "So fancy tonight, brother. And you made poor Danika dress up too." he winked at me. His features were rough and he was most obviously honed like a warrior.

The second, the more classically beautiful of the two was near unreadable. The light seemed to shy away from him as tendrils of shadows curled around his shoulders like a comforting friend.

    Rhys spoke again, "The is Azriel—my spymaster." Not surprising.

    "Welcome," he stated, his voice low as he extended a scarred hand to me. I smiled slightly at the gesture. I dropped my own glamour that covered my hands as I reached out and took his own. Small scars, barely noticeable if you weren't looking directly at them littered my own hands.

    I know he noticed, though I wasn't sure if Cassian or Rhys did and I quickly pulled the glamour back up as I took my hand away.

    I looked between the three, "You're brothers?"

    "Brothers in a sense that all bastards are brothers of a sort." Rhys clarified.

    I looked at Cassian again, "And what do you do?"

    He shrugged irreverently, "I command Rhysands armies."

    He said it as though it was nothing, though I suppose you got used to the feat after a time. Azriel added, "Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand...good luck."

    Was that what I was? A friend of Rhysand? "Thanks for the advice," I said as I looked Cassian up and down. Sizing him up.

    Cassian nudged his brother out of the way as if he wanted a better view of me, "How the hell did you make that trap for the Middengard Wyrm when you look like your own bones can snap at any moment?"