Page 37 of Threaded

“If I’m being honest … I’m not exactly sure what to say right now.” Her voice was the same it had been earlier: soft and strong and flirtatious. Quentin, Matheo, and Trefor chuckled, and smiles touched the faces of Sebastian and Feran. Only Drystan remained quiet, but amusement glimmered in his eyes in the flickering candlelight.

Andrian only seethed.

“I’m … very excited to get to know each of you,” Mariah continued, meeting each of their gazes—even Andrian’s, a fleeting glance that moved past him as fast as it could. “I’m sure you all know that you’re now expected to move into the quarters in the queen’s wing—”

“Everything will be handled, My Queen.” It was Sebastian who spoke. Sebastian, who had always been their level-headed and self-assured leader. On most days, Andrian considered him his best friend.

Right now, though, he only wanted to strangle him. And he wasn’t exactly sure why.

The only thing that kept Andrian rooted in place was his glance at Mariah; at the blush that slowly began to crawl its way up her cheeks. It filled her features with a curious sort of innocence, an innocence he suspected she’d not had in years. Suddenly, his mind was filled with a myriad of images, ideas, ways he might one day get her flushed with that color all the way down her pretty little neck—

No. He would not entertain those thoughts now.

He would not entertain those thoughts,ever.

The blush still on her cheeks, Mariah responded to Sebastian, “Oh … okay. That’s great. I, um … I think I’ll return to my rooms now. This whole day … these past two days, in fact … have been overwhelming, to say the least.” A sheepish grin. Another wave of chuckles. Even Drystan smiled softly this time.

Andrian gritted his teeth so hard he worried they might crack.

“Of course, My Queen.” It was Sebastian again.By the Goddess, could he please stop talking to her?“Please, let me escort you.”

Andrian lurched at those words, almost driven out of the comfort of his shadowy alcove.

But he halted himself just in time. Regained control of his body, his mind, his fucking senses.

This was good, he reminded himself. It was good for her to focus on the others.

It would keep her attention off him. And he wanted nothing more than to remain in his darkness, shrouded by his shadows.

So he held himself still as he watched her smile at Sebastian.

“Mariah,” she said, in that lilting, musical voice. “My name is Mariah. I want you all to call me by my name.”

And even though it was the first order issued by his queen, Andrian vowed to never follow it. He wouldn’t call her by her name, not to her face.

Not until the stars winked out and the moons fell from the sky.

A grin spread across his face again just as Sebastian nodded.

“We would be honored … Mariah.”

Andrian choked back a snort.

Ignoring him in his dark alcove, Mariah smiled brilliantly at Sebastian, stepping forward to take his offered arm. She let him turn her, lead her toward the temple doors. Right before they passed through the doorway, though, she twisted her head back over her shoulder, immediately finding Andrian’s gaze. Her smile turned dark, the face of the temptress again ghosted over her face, before she whipped her head back to face forward, disappearing through the open doorway.

Andrian let loose a growl, low and deep in his throat, as his brothers filed out after them. He was soon alone in the darkness of the temple with nothing but his shadows and his thoughts.

She was intoxicating, dangerous, beautiful, the source of new obsession he couldn’t quell even if he tried.

And he hated her for it.

CHAPTER17

Mariah reveled in the burning in her lungs, the feeling of sweat dripping between her shoulder blades, the sound of her feet rhythmically pounding the soft earth beneath her.

She’d awoken before the sun had even crested over the horizon, pulled from the clutches of sleep, her mind on fire, memories of the past week flashing by like shooting stars. Last night, Sebastian had deposited her into her rooms before excusing himself to move into his own neighboring quarters.

Finally alone, Mariah had showered quickly, the water hot and scalding against her skin, before dressing in a long, soft cotton tunic and curling herself into the outrageously comfortable bed.

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