Page 87 of Dark Fate

I try to act nonchalant, like I’m not acutely aware of the rising heat from our bond, the way it’s thrumming through my body like a live wire. I tip back another glass of that bewitching golden elixir, hoping it’ll cool the flames licking at my insides.

“Take it easy, Angel,” Rhyland whispers, his voice a thread of silk against my senses. “Don’t need you drunk and unable to keep up with what I've got in store for us later.”

I murmur back, a wry twist to my words as I lay down the law with a playful but firm edge, “We’re in diplomacy mode, and I’m all about the schmoozing game with the Fae tonight. So do me a favor and quit firing those...sexy bat signals at me through our bond, alright? I need to focus, please.”

“Mm-hmm,” is all he gives me, noncommittal as ever, like he’s only half-listening to my request. The man’s got a one-track mind; right now, that track is leading straight to the bedroom.

Snatching up his glass filled with warm amber brew, he sends it down in one go, his throat working as he swallows. I watch, transfixed, as a single drop of the liquid escapes the corner of his mouth and slides down, and I have the sudden, wild urge to lean over and lick it off his lips.

Great, now I’m stirring up my own storm of annoyance and frustration inside, a heady mix of emotions that has me gripping the edge of the table like it’s a lifeline. I’m trying to keep my head in the game, to focus on the task at hand, but Rhyland’s making it damn near impossible with his heated looks and suggestive comments.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself, and turn my attention back to the rest of the table. The Fae nobles are engaged in lively conversation, their laughter and chatter rising and falling like the swell of a tide. I catch snippets of their words, tales of courtly intrigue and ancient legends, and I find myself leaning forward, eager to soak up every bit of knowledge I can.

But even as I try to immerse myself in the conversation, I can feel Rhyland's gaze on me like a physical caress, his desire a palpable thing threatening to consume me whole. Being so close to him and yet so far is a delicious torture, and I know that the moment we're alone, all bets are off.

Danica

38

Elowen, bless her timing, slices right through the thickening sexual tension with a question, turning our attention from the silent battle of wills back to the matter at hand. "Pray tell, how have vampires been assimilated into the societal fabric of your domain, and in what manner have your customs evolved from the point of our last knowledge?"

Her brows arc in a mix of curiosity and skepticism, like she's unsure what to make of this motley crew of vampires and humans sitting at her table. I can't say I blame her—we're far from the stuffy, formal delegations she's probably used to entertaining.

Lucianleans in, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips. "Oh, Elowen, you wouldn't believe the plot twist back in the Mortal Realm," he starts, "Vamps and mortals? We're practically braiding each other's hair and swapping friendship bracelets now. A little plasma in your OJ? No sweat, we're all about that inclusive breakfast club life." He grins, clearly reveling in the ridiculousness of it all.

"Protection? We're rocking the buddy system like champs. It's like supernatural Secret Service up in here. Who would've thought—fangs and humans, teaming up to fight the good fight, side by side."Lucianchuckles, taking a nonchalant swig from his glass as if commenting on a mildly amusing sitcom rather than the groundbreaking shift in age-old supernatural dynamics.

I have to bite back a laugh at his irreverent tone, knowing that he's walking a fine line between charming and offensive. ButLucian's always been a master at toeing that line, and I can see some of the Fae nobles hiding smiles behind their hands, their eyes sparkling with amusement at his antics.

Lucianangles his head towardRhyland, "And this tall, dark, and perpetually scowling glass of water over here?" He stage-whispers conspiratorially to Elowen. "He's the big kahuna, the grand poobah of the fang gang. Our vampire whisperer keeps us all on our best behavior... or at least maintains the illusion of it."

He shootsRhylanda cheeky grin, clearly enjoying the opportunity to rib his stoic brother in front of an audience. "It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. And who better than Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding himself? He's got that whole 'I'm silently judging you' vibe down pat. Keeps us mere immortals quaking in our fashionable boots."

The winkLucianfires off atRhylandcould power a small city with its impudence, wrapping up his briefing with all the smart-ass charm he's known for. I can practically feelRhyland's eye roll from here, but I know he's not annoyed.Lucian's his brother, and he's used to his antics.

Elowen, for her part, looks like she's not quite sure what to make ofLucian's little speech. Her brows are still arched, but there's a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth like she's trying to decide whether to be amused or offended. "Are you indeed the sovereign of your people?" Her tone rides the line between respectful intrigue and outright astonishment pointed atRhyland. "And you, Lady Danica? How do you feel about this new world order?"

I sit up a little straighter, feeling all eyes on me as I clear my throat. "AsLuciansaid, vampires and humans have come a long way in learning to coexist peacefully in the Mortal Realm. It hasn't always been easy, but we've made great strides in building trust and understanding between our species."

Aelius leans forward, his eyes sharp with interest. "And what sort of issues have you—your realm encountered, Lady Danica? Surely, the path to peace has not been without its obstacles."

I nod, acknowledging the truth of his words. "Of course, there have been challenges along the way. Centuries of mistrust and prejudice don't disappear overnight. But we've found that we can overcome even the most deeply entrenched divides by focusing on our common goals and values."

There's a moment of silence as the Fae nobles digest my words, their expressions ranging from skeptical to intrigued. I can feel the weight of their gazes on me, but I refuse to shrink under the scrutiny.

"I must admit, it is quite a fascinating and unprecedented revelation. Yet, if those within the mortal realm can bridge their divides, it stands to reason that we should also embrace such progress," Elowen elegantly says.

Her words are the starter pistol for a ritual; everyone hoists their glasses up as they've rehearsed them. A sea of shimmering crystal catches the light, a mirror of the respect now bouncing around the room. It is a toast to new beginnings or at least the hope that stubborn grudges can be unclenched and let go of, just like mortals and immortals are learning to play nicely.

As the attendants set down the spread, a gastronomic dream in front of me, my stomach growls a silent but fierce battle cry—I am starving like a wolf in winter.

It’s a swirl of lustrous fruits, gleaming meats, and puffed pastries that emit flirtatious steam. The salad looks like a botanical marvel, kissed with morning dew, straight out of a fairy tale. And the roast—it's the grand finale, all sizzle and mouth-watering aroma.

I grin like the cat who caught the canary, my eyes darting from one delectable morsel to the next. My hand itches to dive in with reckless abandon, savoring every last bite. But I clamp down my hunger, reminding myself of where I am—among the fae aristocracy.

I pick up my fork and knife with determination, each slice and bite a study of self-control. I slowly ease into the meal, letting the flavors tease my taste buds.

I eat with polite, measured patience, though every fiber of me yearns to throw caution to the wind. It’s torture when everything tastes like a chef's kiss from the divine, but I manage—damping down my cravings with a smile that’s only slightly strained at the edges.

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