Page 3 of Claws of Death

With a slow gesture of his bejeweled hand, he summons Ephegos, who swiftly marches up to the foot of the dais, bowing low before approaching the king. His gaze is warm brown embers when it meets mine, and gooseflesh raises on my skin at the familiarity of that look—the same one he gave me before I blacked out in the dungeon the day I almost escaped.

“Is everything prepared for tomorrow?” Erina prompts the Crow, following his movements as he climbs the stairs to stand on Erina’s other side.

“Everything is ready. The audience is set to start at noon and will take until late afternoon, judging by the number of responses we received.

“An audience?”

They both face me, Erina with amusement, Ephegos with more ice in those brown eyes than the color seems to allow.

“The nobles of Tavras have come to Meer from all over the realm to see their future queen in the flesh.” Erina extends a hand, running a finger down my bare forearm where the eggshell silken sleeves of my dress don’t cover my skin.

While I’m still trying to figure out how he can be certain none of those nobles will turn on him the moment they realize the Milevishja heir is real, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the fact that none of the courtiers in attendance have dared question the rightfulness of his rule, even when I’m right here, proof that not all Milevishja blood was spilled by Erina’s ancestors. The rightful Queen of Tavras.

The title doesn’t sound right, even when it’s merely a silent thought.ThisMilevishja is a pirate, born to roam theseas. And if I do belong on a throne, it’s one that no longer exists: that of the Crows.

“See it as a test run for the wedding, dove.” Erina’s smirk drives a shiver of disgust down my spine. “I will need you to be on your best behavior. My people need to recognize you for the beautiful creature you are, and that’s hardly achieved with that frown on your lovely face.”

“Be glad it’s only a frown,” I utter under my breath, gaze on the gracefully dancing crowd as I ignore the scrape of his fingernail along the side of my palm before he weaves his fingers through mine.

“You will do well to remember you are here at your king’s mercy, Wolayna,” Ephegos reminds me—not that I need a reminder with the leverage they have over me. If only I could get near Kaira so we could communicate through our mind connection. It’s the one advantage we have—and eventhatwe don’t get to use.

“I know.” I give him a sweet smile that sours my stomach. “One wrong word, one wrong step, and I’ll bemoan the consequences.”

Erina’s gaze bounces between Ephegos and me as he follows our conversation with mild amusement. “Perhaps it’s time you admit your defeat, Ayna.” He adjusts the golden band on his brow, a modest version of a crown, just enough of a reminder of who he is and what he represents, of the power he holds in this realm.

Oh, the things fairy males will do to save their mates…His words come back to me, and it dawns on me that between all the dancing and smiling and forcing myself to play my roleso Kaira won’t get hurt, I forgot there is a real danger that Myron won’t head for Askarea to warn King Recienne. He might as well turn around the moment he wakes and realizes I’m not there—and head right back to Meer.

To save me.

And that’s exactly what Erina and Ephegos are hoping for because they know exactly that, while I’d do a lot to keep Kaira out of harm’s way, there is nothing I won’t do to keep my mate safe.

Ayna

Early falland city dust lace my view as I glance out the open balcony doors of the throne room, a bland smile firmly in place to please the countless nobles stepping up to the dais upon which Erina presides on his throne while I stand beside him in my emerald silk gown. The bodice is too tight for my liking, and the sleeves tug in the wrong places, making it hard to bend my elbows as I lace my fingers in front of my stomach. One after the other, the lords and ladies bow, curtsey, eager eyes scanning my figure, my features, the long braid draped around the crown of my head, the pearls resting on my collarbones. My bad hand weighs like lead where a broad golden bracelet covers thetattooed chain identifying me as a Fort Perenis prisoner, and the engagement ring Erina insists I wear everywhere only adds to the sense of being shackled.

“It’s an honor, Your Majesty.” The woman in front of the dais rises at her king’s command, her sparkling blue eyes finding me as soon as Erina turns to study me with fake adoration the way he has all morning. “Lady Milevishja, I’m honored to stand in the presence of one of the old bloodlines.” There is a cold quality to her tone that doesn’t match her warm brown skin tone and the soft waves of her grizzled hair, and I almost cringe as I meet her gaze.

“A true Milevishja in this palace after so many years,” Erina muses. “And what a lucky man I am to have found her.”

“That she agreed to marry you is more like it,” someone mutters behind the throne. I don’t need to turn around to identify the voice as that of the older guard who accompanied me from my room to the audience after breakfast; my Crow senses might have been dulled by the drug, but they surpass any human ones anyway.

Lips twitching at the signs of sarcasm, I’m tempted to turn and give him a sign of appreciation, but the woman in front of the dais rises from her curtsey, smoothing over her sweeping, gold-embroidered, chocolate satin skirts, and something flickers in her eyes that makes me wonder if she heard him, too.

With a quick glance, I confirm her ears are rounded. Clearly human, unless she is of a diluted fairy bloodline like Kaira…

“Lady Andraya,” I use the name Ephegos supplies from my other side the way he has all morning, a threateningpresence running this audience in a black-and-blue uniform that makes him even more dangerous than his brass or sepia attire used to. He’s head of Erina’s armies now. However he convinced the King of Tavras to allow a Crow to lead his military forces, I don’t even want to know.

“Lady Andraya is from the southern coast of Tavras, overseeing the ports along the Gulf of Tears,” Ephegos informs us while I debate sitting down on the chair next to Erina’s throne. A restlessness has risen within me that surpasses the constant drug-induced exhaustion, and it’s become difficult to keep still, so I opt for remaining on my feet, quietly tapping my toes on the polished floor beneath my skirts where no one can witness.

“It must be wonderful to live by the coast,” I say in that same bland tone I’ve been using with all the nobles who’ve come to gawk at the Milevishja woman they believe belongs by their king’s side.

“There is nothing more breathtaking than the inky turquoise of the waters in the early morning when the sea traffic is still quiet and the town fast asleep.” Lady Andraya’s lips part in a genuine grin letting a hint of mischief slip onto her heart-shaped face that I hadn’t expected from the middle-aged woman. “I’ve heard you yourself know one or the other thing about the beauty of the oceans.”

Beside me, Erina clears his throat, his hand finding mine and clasping it so hard I rethink my response twice.

“I’ve always been an admirer of the waters surrounding our realm, but I haven’t been able to travel far enough to the south to see the Gulf of Tears for myself.” I put onmy best intrigued face while keeping a hint of innocence that will not give away how far I’ve travelled otherwise. “Is it true you can see all the way to the Southern Continent from the cape?”

My father used to do trade with the Southern Continent, but I never got much out of him about what treasures could be found there. However, I don’t tell her that. It’s obvious she knows something about my past; I don’t need to give her anything else, or she might make the connection of which Milevishja I exactly am—the pirate child of a traitor merchant who tried to assassinate his way back to a throne that might, in a different life, have belonged to him. The daughter of a mother who offered up my hand in marriage to please the King of Tavras.

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