Page 123 of Heir of Illusion

“Wraith,” he drawls.

It takes immense effort to suppress the shiver that threatens to overwhelm me. How he makes such a simple word sound sinful, I’ll never know.

“Killian,” I instill as much disrespect as I can into the name.

The room goes silent. I can feel everyone staring at me. Perhaps addressing a God by his first name and in that tone was a bit too far? I blame the wine as I guzzle down the rest of my glass.

Griffen snorts, breaking the silence. “You are as charming as ever, Lady Iverson.”

I find his warm gaze, latching onto it like a lifeline. “How nice to see you again, Lord Griffen.”

Strangely, I find that I actually mean that. Apparently, the charming fae has worked his way under my skin. My attention shifts to the woman sitting to his right. “I don’t believe I’ve been properly introduced to your other companion.”

“May I present Lady Fia,” Griffen gestures to the female fae. “A valued member of Death’s advisory council.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Fia.” I nod politely.

Her gaze flits between me and Thorne, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine. I’ve heard many interesting things about you.” The words are spoken with such warmth that I automatically believe her. The ugly feeling in my stomach eases slightly. “And please, no need for formalities. Just call me Fia.”

“Now that we’ve all been introduced,” Baylor chimes in, a hint of petulance in his tone. “Perhaps we can move ahead with our meal.”

Servants enter, carrying plates of food that they deposit in front of the newcomers and topping off our glasses. Finished with their tasks, they file out, leaving us alone once more. Griffen immediately digs in, but Thorne holds back.

“I must say, Lady Iverson,” he drawls. “I greatly enjoyed our time together the other night.”

I sputter as wine catches in my throat, choking me.

“When we danced together,” he explains after I catch my breath, his thick brows raising innocently. “Surely you remember. You were a wonderful partner. So pliant.”

I consider stabbing him with a dinner knife. If I was fast enough, I might be able to do it without anyone noticing.

“Yes, my pet is an excellent dancer,” Baylor agrees evenly, his lips pursed as he watches the God at my side.

“And flexible too,” Thorne purrs.

Griffen coughs, his face turning red as he covers his hand over his mouth. “Apologies,” he croaks.

“Personally,” Kaldar interjects, “I found the dance to be inappropriate and unbecoming of a future queen.”

“No one cares what you think,” I grumble.

“Please excuse my pet.” Baylor glares at me. “She’s had a trying day. Her father’s funeral was this morning.”

Kaldar nods. “Yes. Very tragic.”

My gaze narrows on the bastard. “Really? I don’t recall seeing you there.”

“I was in the back,” he says, his tone clipped.

I roll my eyes. “My, how the mighty have fallen.”

Muffled laughter comes from the other end of the table as Griffen and Fia attempt to camouflage their amusement as indigestion.

“Iverson,” Baylor’s tone turns dangerous. “Behave yourself, pet.”

I cast my eyes down in a submissive gesture. The conversation carries on as Kaldar claims the king’s attention, regaling him with gossip about some lord whose wife is having an affair. Thorne takes full advantage of their distraction, shifting his chair closer to mine.

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