𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Seventy

Amren, Rhys, and I were given a suite of connected rooms, all centered around a large and lavish lounge that was open to the city and sea below. The room was sprawled with candles all across the room.

    I had plopped on top of the seafoam-colored bed, accented in gold, and promptly sat there as I stared at the ceiling.

    Maybe it had been a mistake coming here. With the threats about Tamlin...maybe it wasn't worth the risk. I couldn't be sent back there. I wouldn't survive it.

    I blew out a breath, sitting up as I brought my knees to my chest and propped my head up with my hand. The wave's from the bay crashed against yellow sand below the windows of my room, creating soft sounds as the water retreated back into itself. I took some breaths, calming my worries as I did.

    I was here for a reason. I was here to prevent war, and I'd do everything in my power to get the book of breathings if it could help us do that.

I was here for a reason.

There was a soft click on the other side of the room as my door was opened, and in slid the High Lord of the Night Court himself.

He shut the door behind him slowly, breathing deeply as he did before he leaned against the closed door. The top of his black tunic had been unbuttoned, revealing the upper whorls of his tattoos spanning across his chest.

"The problem, I've realized, will be that I like Tarquin," Rhys said by way of greeting. "I even like Cresseida. Varian, I could live without, but I bet a few weeks with Cassian and Azriel, and he'd be thick as thieves with them, and I'd have to learn to like him. Or he'd be wrapped around Amren's finger, and I'd have to leave him alone entirely or risk her wrath."

Cresseida, really?

"And?" I prompted, sliding toward the edge of the bed with a soft sigh. Today had tired me more than I'd prefer to admit. It had been too long since I'd dabbled in politics and it was more exhausting than I remembered.

"And," Rhys said absently, "I want you to find a way to do what you have to do without making enemies of them."

I raised my brows, "We." I amended, "I'm not doing this alone, Rhys. I may be your hunter, but I won't be your pawn."

Rhys looked at me then, his violet eyes finding mine, "We." He repeated, correcting himself. He stared at me for a long moment, taking a step from the door as his gaze never left mine. "Do you like that Tarquin can't stop looking at you? I can't tell if it's because he wants you or because he wants to see how much power you have."

"Can't it be both?" I said, leaning back on my hands.

"Of course. But having a High Lord lusting after you is a dangerous game."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Taunting me with Cassian, now Tarquin? Your tactics of annoying me are getting old, Rhys."

Rhys prowled closer. His scent, his warmth, his power, hit me like a blow. He leaned down, bracing a hand on either side of me as I sat on the bed. His face was mere inches from mine.

I hated it. I hated the way my heart beat in my ears. I hated the way my mind was racing. I hated the way my breath was shallow. I hated the way my entire body was aware of him.

"You have one task here, Danika. One task that no one can know about. So do anything you have to in order to accomplish it. But get that book. And do not get caught."

I knew the risks. I knew the cost. I wasn't a fool. But he was getting on my last nerve with that tone, that look. "Anything?" I dared to say, leaning so close to Rhys that I felt his breath on me. His brows rose. I wasn't sure if it was my actions or my words. "If I fucked him for it, what would you do?" I whispered.