Page 7 of The Sorrow of Shadows

“Fine,” I say, the word coming out as a breathy moan as my partner slides his fingers down the front of my pants at the same moment. “Stay and watch for all I care.”

Feeling his fingers trail lower, I roll my hips into him, wanting him to get on with it. Just as he reaches the spot where I want him, he’s yanked from me.

“Get lost,” Aurelius growls at the male. His eyes seem to glow from anger. An anger I don’t understand.

Much like Simon, the male decides this isn’t worth the hassle—that I’m not worth it—and leaves me alone with Aurelius.

“What’s your problem?” I spit the words at Aurelius.

“You, Princess.” His tone is calm, but his body is anything but. He has me pressed back against the wall in the blink of an eye. His presence occupies the one left by the male, but the way Aurelius fills it is suffocating. He dominates and commands the space around him. My chest heaves, lungs working hard to pull in the oxygen Aurelius has sucked from the air around me. “It’s always you,” he says, eyes narrowing on me.

“Good to know I’m still your problem,” I respond quietly, venom lacing my tone.

Aurelius sighs in frustration, then uses his thumb and finger to grasp my chin and turn it to meet his gaze. “You are much more than just my problem.”

I don’t follow his meaning, but my eyes search his for some explanation. His face is unreadable, and he refuses to break eye contact. The space between us is almost nonexistent, and my lips part slightly on instinct.

It feels like he’s stealing the breath from my lungs as we both stand there in silence, locked into a battle of wills for who will look away first.

“Let me go, Aurelius.” My words are soft but demanding. He ignores them entirely, instead pressing closer.

“Why? So you can track down some other poor male that will leave you wanting?”

I scoff, “He would not have left me wanting.”

“Are you sure about that?” he challenges.

“Who I fuck is none of your concern,” I retort.

“Perhaps not,” he concedes. His lips hover less than an inch from mine, and I wonder how we got here. I also wonder how his lips would feel against mine. Would they be soft and full like the other male’s? If he were anybody else, I would lean forward and take what I wanted from him—what he robbed me of when he dismissed the other male. “But I could think of much better options if you’re looking for someone to warm your bed.”

“Oh really?” I challenge. “Like who?”

Realizing his mistake too late, Aurelius says nothing. I wait a few heartbeats longer before pushing him off me and striding away from the wall. “That’s what I thought,” I snicker and return to Elijah and the tavern.

CHAPTER FIVE

BREYLA

It has been nearly three weeks since I arrived at the castle, and I have seen no ghosts. Three weeks of watching my mother show affection for Aurelius, like my father meant nothing. Three weeks of avoiding everyone and drowning my grief in ale and wine.

“You win again,” I say, exasperated. We’ve been playing various card games since lunch and are now well past dinner. Of the last eight hands, Elijah had won seven. “How did you win, again? It’s statistically improbable!” I narrow my eyes at him.

He grins wide before answering, “Statistics don’t take into account the six cups of wine you’ve had in the last two hours.” He lets out a deep laugh at my expense.

My eyes narrow even further before I let out an unexpected hiccup, completely ruining the glare I was directing at my best friend. This only makes him laugh harder. Unable to contain myself any longer, I laugh with him, eventually so hard that I snort. My snort turns into me choking on my own saliva, then I’m coughing. I reach for my wine goblet, onlyto find it empty.

“On that note...” I stumble both with my words and with standing. Elijah gives me a questioning look as I trip over my feet on the way to my bedroom door.

“Are you sure you should be drinking more?” Elijah asks from his position, still on the floor.

My middle finger is the only response I give him as I exit my room in search of more wine. Trying not to trip again, I keep my eyes trained on the ground ahead of me. It would be easier if I created a few Faerie lights, but with all the wine in my system, it’s taking all my focus to walk at the moment. I make it about ten feet before I trip over absolutely nothing. As I prepare for impact with the floor, I let out a rather embarrassing squeal.

Except I never hit the floor. I feel an arm wrap around my waist as I make contact with something hard. By the warmth under my fingers, I can tell it’s not a wall or piece of furniture.

“I must say, I expected more grace from the general of the royal army. I’m not sure whether I should be disappointed or concerned for the safety of our kingdom.” That voice—deep and melodic. It belongs to the asshole I’ve been avoiding for the past three weeks. This close to him, I can smell his spiced bergamot scent. It’s intoxicating. My inebriated brain must be malfunctioning because I subtly breathe it in deeper as I push myself back upright, his hand still resting on my hip.

“Did you just sniff?—”

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