Page 124 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

I stared up at him, appalled.

“But hey, I got paid in gold, and gold is what it’s all about.” He gave me a wink as he tipped me backwards. “So thankyou, Lady Silence. If not for you, for your stunning visage, I’d still be painting landscapes and bowls of fruit, and I wouldn’t have a new patron for my services.”

I hated that damn nickname, and his disdain when he spoke of Bane, and I decided right then and there that even if it ruined Wyn’s efforts to have a joyful celebration, I was going to punch him in the face.

I drew back my arm, folding my fingers, eyes focused on the cut-glass line of his jaw. Hell, maybe I’d break it and give him something new to whine about.

But Miro jerked me upright, stumbling a little, and an enormous, gentle hand folded itself around my fist.

Relief crashed over me in a titanic wave. I drowned in it.Luxuriatedin it. I’d never been so happy to see my husband’s misshapen, beautiful face.

“I’m here to rescue you,” Bane said, and truer words were never spoken.

Chapter 30

Bane

With the dancers swirling through the ballroom, the giggles and loud conversations audible over the music, I wouldn’t have guessed from the sight of merriment that Visca had taken all the legions east and south throughout the night, leaving us undefended.

Did the human nobility not know, or not care? I eyed one of the older human men, Enoch fel Barrick, a man who had lived and fought through the Forian War and knew perfectly well what it meant when a keep was emptied of its guards overnight.

But he held a glass of wine, red-faced and laughing at something Kajarin had said, about two seconds from flinging himself down the front of her bodice. All of the humans were celebrating, taking advantage of the free-flowing wine, dressed in their best and giving no sign whatsoever that anything was amiss.

I wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or irritated about that. Happy because Visca hadn’t wanted to cause a panic, irritated because the threat was most certainly not gone, and if it had been up to me, I would have told my people to light a candle onBloodrain and say a blessing for their ancestors, and canceled the party altogether.

I ducked under a low-hanging crimson banner and found Wroth in the corner, half-lurking behind a column.

“You didn’t have to come.” I spoke low, knowing he would hear me clearly even over the music and laughter.

His ears twitched backwards, laying flat against his skull. “And miss out on watching my precious wife try to fuck her way through every gentleman in the room?”

I bit my tongue. Reminded myself that I couldn’t interfere with his life or his marriage, that their union was necessary, even if they hated each other.

“My apologies.” Wroth was gruff, his tail lashing.

Once he would’ve been the life of this party, the brightest laughter of all. It felt wrong to find him hovering in the shadows, keeping himself aloof and unseen, seething in hate and bitterness.

“I’ve said all I can say. If you’d rather stay on the wall, the guards remaining won’t say no to another pair of eyes. I would’ve stopped the celebration with Visca gone—for all we know, Hakkon wanted us to send the legions out, leave ourselves open.”

Wroth tipped his head as he watched the dancers swirl past, his eyes bright. “Would it be such a terrible thing if a warg made it in?”

“You don’t mean that, brother.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I don’t. But somehow, I can’t bring myself to care either way.”

I held back the sigh that wanted to escape.

Nothing you can do, Bane. We all agreed to this. We all knew what it would take. He has another chance in a hundred years, if that.

I searched the crowd for that bright spark of flame against the crimson banners, and found her. Gliding across the room, her face set in a scowl, in Miro’s arms.

And there it was, the bitterness Wroth felt every minute of every day: jealousy. But unlike Wroth, I could push mine aside, because Cirri was mine and no other’s.

From the look on her face, she was about five seconds away from pushing Miro off a balcony. But I couldn’t deny that they made a striking pair: her lovely fire against his dark shadows. They were like an illustration in a storybook, handsome prince meets lovely princess, and that rather made me want to kill him for it.

I felt Wroth’s gaze touch my face. “Go rescue the girl,” he said roughly. “At least one of us has something to cherish in this life.”

“Things will get better,” I told him, the only thing I could think of, and all he did was snort in response.

---