“Who gave it to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he look like?”
“Why do you seem afraid of a dream, Lordling?” Scarlett asked, tilting her head to the side.
He gripped her wrists again and pinned them above her head. He brought his face close to hers. “Our game has just begun, my pet. After tomorrow there is nothing he can do about it.” Mikale pressed a kiss to her mouth, hard and rough. Then he pushed himself off of her and left the room without another word, humming softly to himself. She heard the click of the lock as she pulled her knees to her chest.
Tomorrow. He had said tomorrow.
And who was he? The man in her dream?
She had needed more time, and instead she had lost it all. She had made a bad call. She had played a dangerous game, and she had lost.
CHAPTER 42
SORIN
“Where are they?” Sorin asked, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.
“They will be here,” Cassius said from where he leaned against the wall near the door.
“I should have come last night, and we could have just ended this,” Sorin muttered.
“No,” Nuri chimed in from beside him. “We have to play this right, Sorin. You know this. One wrong move and someone dies. We just don’t know who.”
She was right, of course, and now the crown prince had been dragged into this colossal mess.
There was a knock on the tavern door, and his eyes snapped to it. He knew that scent. “You are sure about this?”
Cassius strode to the door. “As sure as we can be.”
He opened the door, and Prince Callan and his two guards came in quickly. They were all in cloaks and hoods, and Sorin had to admit they were disguised fairly well. They each had bags for traveling as they pulled their hoods back.
“You understand what this will entail?” Sorin asked, looking them over.
“If you mean do I understand I am going into hiding, yes,” Callan answered grimly.
“There is so much more than that, Princeling,” Nuri crooned from beside him.
“Nuri dear,” Sorin sighed, “if we are doing this, they get to see your face.”
She reached up and jerked back her hood, that sinister grin perfectly in place on her pale face. All three of them smartly stepped back.
“Come closer, Princeling,” she crooned, “I only bite this one.” She jerked her thumb to Sorin.
“You are truly a…” Callan trailed off and gasped as Nuri let her fangs snap out. His eyes went to Sorin. “And you are truly Fae?”
“I am,” he said as he stood. He had felt Amaré enter the land a few seconds ago. He strode to the window, opening it. A moment later, the phoenix swooped in and came to his shoulder. He dropped a slender piece of black ashwood into his palm. It looked like a stick, but it was anything but a mere stick. There was a flash of flame, and the prince’s two guards stepped protectively in front of Callan.
Ignoring them, Sorin handed the parchment to Amaré, who took it delicately in his beak. “This is critical, my friend. To Cyrus. Do not rest.”
The phoenix was out the window in seconds, and Sorin turned to face the Crown Prince. “While your posse is certainly right to fear me, you can tell them to relax. You are not my enemy this day.”
“But we might be another day?” Callan challenged, and Sorin had to admire the gall of the prince. It was incredibly foolish, but he could appreciate the show of courage.
Nuri clicked her tongue. “You are going to his lands, you know. You should probably work out those trust issues, Prince.”