Page 22 of King of Pride and Talons

“Yes?”

“My name is Nyfain Ramexne,” the man said, offering her his hand. “I am over the moon to be meeting you. May I have this dance?"

Breya didn't think she really had an option, so she accepted, placing her hand in the stranger's. It was tepid and cool.

He drew her into him and held her in the ballroom stance, his willowy hand like a pitiful twig compared to the meaty paws of the king’s. She knew instinctively before he even laid a hand on her that Nyfain was no shifter.

“How do you know the king?” Breya asked, playing her part.

“I am a sorcerer of the Savanna Kingdom. Your king often seeks my council."

Breya felt something off, like a jug of milk that had been left to sour in the sun. Normally she could pick up sinister intentions from miles away, but she didn't sniff that off of Nyfain. It was more like the crude odor of jealousy.

“That must be interesting," she replied.

“Hmm?” he said, raising two barely-present eyebrows.

“Being around so many shifters all the time. I don’t know if I'll ever get used to it."

He chugged with laughter. The sound continued to make Breya think of something spoiled.

“Interesting is certainly one word for it. I went from the human territory to the Sorcerer Academy, then I was summoned here. I never thought I would grow used to it, but alas, I have."

Breya twitched her nose, curious about Thorne and what he and Queen Wyeberry were now speaking about.

"Did you find acceptance amongst the shifters?” she prodded.

Tiny teeth gleamed down at her. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“They really have no other choice than acceptance, young Breya. If they know what's good for them.”

Breya’s response was caught in her throat. Nyfain spoke darkly, and it started to make her feel uneasy.

But her attention was stolen by Thorne. She didn’t like how much power he had over her, albeit so quickly. She had been telling him the truth when she said their night together was fantastic. But sex could only keep a fire lit for so long before being snuffed out by an inconvenient thing called reality.

She kept up the conversation with the sorcerer as long as she could. It was wrong to insult him, and besides, she figured she may be one day seeking his counsel about gaining the shifters' favor. That is if her heart truly longed to stay.

The song finished, and Nyfain took a bow. He still had that grim smile on his face and a wan complexion. He looked as if he could be related to the vampires of the Wildwoods, but her witch nose knew better.

"Thank you for the dance, sweet Breya,” he said, winking. “I am sure we will meet again."

“I would be delighted," she said courteously.

The crowd scattered again, and she wandered the room, searching for Thorne. She started to wish for her sister's advice once again—to queen or not to queen? That truly was the question.

TWELVE

THORNE

Thorne's mind was a tangled mess. His chest felt a bit like his heart had been carved out, while irritation burned through him like a firestorm. It wasn’t at all how he had wanted the night to go.

He watched as the sorcerer Nyfain took Breya by the hand and began to dance. That charged his displeasure enough to catch Cassia’s attention.

"She is a lovely creature,” the queen said mildly. “I congratulate you on finding her. I know that is not something all shifters are lucky enough to find."

The king’s gaze flickered down to Cassia’s, whose mouth was half-cocked. Her words, for once, felt sincere.

“Thank you, Cassia,” he said, shuffling his hand around her waist and positioning it appropriately. “I must confess to you that it was all of your work that aided in her retrieval. Your divination spell worked."

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