Page 42 of The Cursed and the Broken
His eyes glimmered in amusement. “Aside from the fact that you stare at my ass when you think I’m not looking?” I opened my mouth in indignation, but he pressed his fingers to my lips and continued. “It would be in both of our interests to find some common ground. I’m merely asking for a truce. If we are forced to marry, we can at least work together, fighting for the same cause.”
His offer caught me off guard, but I batted his fingers from my mouth and glared at him as I considered. A truce seemed harmless enough. The energy I spent hating him would be better spent on other things, and if he wasn’t baiting me all the time, perhaps it would make time spent in his company more bearable.
Not to mention our marriage.
“Fine,” I huffed. “But this doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re still a prick.”
He flashed me a winning smile in answer and, simmering, I pushed open the temple doors with a bang, sweeping into the council chamber. As expected, Caitlin was seated at the head of the table, conferring with the other councillors.
“My lord, it’s an honour,” she said with a curtsy, the others mimicking her movements. She eyed me off, not bothering to hide her disdain. “Kitarni, what a … surprise.”
Unpleasant for me, too, bitch.I nodded to the others—including my wary mother—before smiling sweetly at Caitlin. “So lovely to see you all. I request a word, if I may, to discuss the village’s plans of attack.”
Caitlin’s own smile was sickly sweet, but her words dripped venom. “You may not. The village’s affairs are ruled strictly by council members only. I’m afraid that doesn’t include you, even with family present. Though, that’s not quite true, is it? What with your real mother being a bloodmorphia addict and a cultist.”
My blood heated, cheeks flushing with shame. Low, even for her, though not unexpected. My mother rose indignantly, but a pointed look from me had her sitting back down. There was no point dragging this out. My pride could take the hit.
I narrowed my eyes, pinning them sharply on Caitlin. “Blood doesn’t make a family, Caitlin, bonds do. But my, such an unpleasant discussion, and in front of our esteemed guest, no less.” I tsked before pasting a smile on my face. “Did you hear the news? Dante and I are to be wed. Isn’t that wonderful? Not only will I be the lady of Mistvellen, but I’ll be privy to all missives that pass through, as well as overseeing the welfare of my people. That includes the witches here, Caitlin. It’s my duty to protect them, after all.”
A vein ticked in her forehead and, somehow, her white skin paled even further. “Being the lady of the Wolfblood Clan does not grant you the right to rule our people,” she seethed. “Once you leave, you forfeit your right to our customs and care.”
Pouting, I twirled a strand of hair around my finger. “That’s no way to speak to someone higher than your station, is it, Dante?”
His lips twitched, and I wondered if he’d play along with my little game. “Certainly not. You should apologise, Ms Vargo. The proper address is ‘my lady’, as I’m sure you know. You would do well to remember it.”
I had to suppress my grin. It was nice not to be on the receiving end of his haughtiness for a change. Of course she knew. Caitlin curtseyed low, her jaw dangerously set. “My apologies, my lord, it will not happen again.”
Dante smiled with full teeth, a dimple curling his cheek. I thought that might be the most dangerous look I’d yet seen from him. “To the lady, Caitlin. Apologise to my lady.”
My lady.My stomach thrilled at the game we were playing. He’d humiliated her—twice. Leapt to my aid without a second thought. I didn’t know what he was getting out of this, but frankly, I didn’t care.
As I watched him out of the corner of my eye, I sensed his enjoyment and something else, too.Anger.It rippled from him in waves and I swore the faintest flicker of black smoke curled from his frame. The same misty black I’d seen from him in the forest.
I couldn’t be certain, but I think Caitlin noted it too. “Of—of course,” she stammered, curtseying again, this time directing her attention to me. “My humblest apologies, my lady.” When she rose, the look in her eyes promised murder.
Silence filled the room, so deafening you’d hear a pin drop. No one,no onepointed out the obvious. I wasn’t yet married, meaning my threats were just that. Until I married Dante, my words carried little weight, and Caitlin knew it. Still, I had her attention and, if she was smart, she’d keep her thin lips firmly shut lest she be on the receiving end of Dante’s wrath. Given a simple sentence had ruffled her entirely, I suspected his words were just as sharp a weapon in his arsenal.
Dante approached the end of the table and I took that as my cue to sit to his right, but to my surprise, he took that for himself, leaving the head empty. Blinking, I glanced at the faces of the room. Caitlin glared at me from the opposite end. Mama gaped and Erika just grinned devilishly. Iren was absent, likely visiting the Transylvanian coven over the border and alerting them to our plight.
Sliding into my seat, I placed my palms flat on the table, taking a breath. Dante had given me the reins, and that small act was an olive branch. Not an apology for his brutish behaviour thus far, but close enough. The gesture would not be wasted.
“Now that the festivities are over, it’s time to prepare our defences and assemble our forces should the cultists decide to attack. As it stands, an invasion would topple us entirely. Earthen magic can only go so far, and most of the witches here are without combative experience. Even with Wolfblood soldiers bolstering our forces, we are weak. Vulnerable.”
“What do you propose, Kitarni?” Erika asked, straightening her shoulders. As she commanded the meagre fighters we had, she was tasked with all things offensive.
“We can’t sit around, waiting for vipers to strike. I propose we send scouting parties through the woods—to the nearby towns to gather intel. Iren has her connections, yes, but we need to know numbers, need to see what the cultists are planning.”
Mama studied me as she tapped a fingernail on her lips. “It’s dangerous. Doing so would risk lives. Is that a weight you’re willing to bear, Kitarni?”
Straightening, I set my jaw stubbornly. “If we don’t do this, more lives might be lost than saved. Besides, I’ll be leading the hunt.”
“What?” My mother shot from her seat, spearing me with her gaze. “Absolutely not, that’s out of the question.”
“I have to do this, Mother. Witches are dying, and it’s only going to get worse. With more information, we might stand a chance of saving our people and prevent the deaths of more innocent girls.”
“I’ll go with you.” Dante’s voice was smooth as silk.
Surprised, I glanced at him, noting his assessing gaze, the dark depths of his brown eyes. I don’t know what he saw in me but, somehow, the challenge in his eyes made me feel stronger.
