Page 109 of Of Sword & Silver

“We need to leave soon,” he continues. “Where are the other women?”

“They’re getting ready still,” Caedia tells him. “You could have done more to yourself, by the way.”

He blinks at the half-dryad’s words, glancing down at his own over-the-top finery. “Caedia, you look lovely.”

Morrow shoots me an amused look over Dario’s head.

“Of course I do.”

“Right on schedule,” comes a crisp voice, and I turn from Dario in time to see Kyrie gliding down the stairs.

Her hair’s a waterfall of crimson curls, an iridescent strand of pearls and gems wound through it. Her green eyes are lined in darkness, making them stand out beneath the creamy white mask.

I have never seen anything, anyone, as lovely as this white-clad thief.

I swallow hard.

The dress clings to her curves, leaving little room for imagination, the breasts I’ve barely kept myself from hardly concealed under the intricate, pale beadwork. The flash of creamy thigh beneath the skirts is next to draw my attention.

“Breathe,” Caedia instructs, an amused smile on her face.

I do as she bids, unable to do anything else but stare at the mortal woman coming down the stairs, a vision in cream, the very picture of beauty. Hope shines in her green eyes for a second as our gazes meet.

In a few days’ time, she won’t look at me like that again. Ever.

“Well?” Lara asks, and I blink at where she is now standing beside me. I hadn’t even realized she was with Kyrie.

“You are stunning,” Morrow tells Lara, and I don’t need her gift of prescience to see that the man’s half in love with her already.

Kyrie sweeps by us all, hardly even glancing at me, already settling into her role for the night.

Temptress, thief, mastermind.

What would it be like if she was only mine?

40

KYRIE

The green copper-clad spires of Alaric’s palace gleam in the starlight. Smoke wafts from the braziers along the cobblestone pathway.

Mushroom and the horses are stabled nearby, according to Morrow, ready for our escape.

Getting in and getting the goods isn’t usually the hard part; getting away is.

I swallow some of the panic that threatens and focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

There’s no hiding the sweat that makes my palms slippery, though, or the fact my heart’s going to sprout wings and fly off if it beats any faster.

I do not want to see Alaric.

I never wanted to see him again.

This entire plan is a gamble. If he doesn’t react the way we want him to, the way I’m gambling with our lives that he will, then this curse won’t matter. I’ll die in one of his dungeons.

The Sword’s arm wraps around my waist and I glance up at him, startled by the movement.

“Don’t,” he says in a low voice. “Don’t be afraid.”

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