Page 33 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

As she laughed, he could see the shimmer that dusted a line down her cheekbone like a cosmic strip of stars, highlighting the bold structure of her face. As she tucked a strand of glossy black hair behind her ear, he could see that she had studded them with diamonds. He took in the thin straps of that torturously low burgundy dress; it had him thinking of how much he would like to take them off her shoulders, one by one, with his teeth. The material of the dress hugged her curves deliciously, shaping around her ass, and he felt like he might need to crawl the rest of the way towards her.

Get yourself together, he barked inwardly. You are a warrior, a fucking warrior.

A warrior who wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was about to drop to his knees and beg Emara Clearwater never to flirt with another male again.

But he wouldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t.

She had every right to do what she pleased. However, he did enjoy toying with the thought of hunting every one of them down and killing them for even thinking for one second that they could seduce her.

Or maybe he could stick with torture. He didn’t need to go as far as murder.

No, he couldn’t do that either.

She wasn’t his. She didn’t even like him. But why did that encourage his wicked heart to want her even more?

He almost laughed out loud at the thought.

As he neared, he noted that she had painted her lips a deep red, making them look full and plump as they sat against her white teeth in a coy smile.

His personal favourite.

The man who had approached must have said something that entertained her and she laughed again, loudly, a delicate heat spread to her cheeks.

Okay, torture was off the cards, and it was back on again for straight up murder. Bloodshed.

I will not kill him. I will not kill him, he promised weakly.

Torin pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and sauntered up beside her, allowing all of his insecurities to disappear into the crowd behind him. He straightened his face, bringing out that cocky mask he used so much, too much, and said, “Hello, angel.” He gave her a full, gleaming smile that he

knew exposed both dimples. “Miss me?”

Emara’s chest tightened as she took in the devastating sight of Torin Blacksteel in his tight black tunic and leathers. The dimples of his smile made it hard for her to breathe, but she held his gaze and pushed up her chin. She wasn’t going to let him affect her. She hadn’t gotten all dressed up just to come here and have her night ruined by him. Well, not ruined, but he did like to take up a lot of her attention.

She had slipped on this burgundy dress that Cally had left lying in her room and flung on a pair of fashionable shoes that were certainly not hunting boots, making her feel semi-attractive. As long as she strutted in them, Cally would be proud of her for even turning up here.

“Torin,” she said on an inhaled breath. “This is Doriel Vettoman.”

Doriel placed out his hand apprehensively to shake Torin’s, but the warrior didn’t move.

Emara blinked.

“Doriel.” Torin seemed to be thinking something over as he finally shook the other man’s hand. His grip tightened and she could see the colour in Doriel’s face drain. “I am Torin Blacksteel. Emara’s betrothed.”

Emara spit out her drink. There was no way that drink would have stayed down even if her life depended on it.

Betrothed?

Who introduces themselves like that? What in Rhiannon’s name…

Before she could rectify the situation by reassuring Doriel that she was absolutely not engaged to Torin, he spoke. “I didn’t realise she was spoken for.” The man shook his head, his ice-white hair brushing against his chin. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“I am not betrothed,” Emara exclaimed. “I am not spoken for, you are not causing any trouble. We were actually just getting to know each other.” She snapped her head towards Torin before giving him a dangerous glare. “And you were just about to leave.”

Torin’s nostrils flared. “Oh really? Is that what he was looking to do? Get to know you?”

Mother God, give me strength.

A little fear crept deeper into Doriel’s almost black eyes. “Yes, brother, I promise I only wanted to know her name.”

---