Page 53 of The Fated and the Damned
“I won’t let Sylvie harm you,” I promised, tilting her chin to look at me. “I will cut off her hands before she can lay a single finger on your head.”
She smiled softly. “You’re a bit scary when you go all possessive and protective, you know."
I hummed in my chest. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her answering chuckle was everything. “True. But just so you know, being married doesn’t change the fact that you’re an asshat.”
I smiled as she traced the outline of my tattoo, her finger sliding along the sword on my chest, then along the flowers beside it. Today had been chaotic, but there was something so right about us fighting side-by-side, new allies at our back.
The tables were turning. Now to see which side would survive the summer.
TWENTY-FOUR
Kitarni
Dante’shandsettledatthe small of my back, his fingers brushing my ass ever so slightly as we danced. Possessive indeed, not that I could blame him. We hadn’t had the luxury of basking in marital bliss, instead diving straight off the deep end into shark-infested waters.
The night of the masquerade ball was upon us and, despite the planning and security measures, I knew he was just as on edge as I was. More so, given how seriously and eagerly he took to his duty as protective and—okay, yes, pleasuring—husband.
His muscles were stiff, betraying his nerves, his brown eyes flashing gold as they scanned the room around us. With his black wolf mask covering half his face, it made him appear threatening … dangerous.
I could feel his power rumbling through his skin, singing through his veins and lighting his body on fire. Not that it would be much help to us if we were attacked. Necromancy served little purpose with no bodies to raise. When it came to the final battle, however, my husband would be in his element. A shadow king, and a savage alpha wolf.
My own body zinged with power, the beast inside me awake and watching, sniffing for any hint of treachery. I tightened my grip on Dante’s arm and thought about what had happened in the lavender fields—how my eyes had turned black and something else had seemed to take over, revelling in the death and destruction wrought by my hands.
I didn’t want to think about why or how, but deep down I knew the answer. Blood magic was the stuff of darkness. It made sense that it would claim a piece of me if I didn’t use it sparingly, but the truth was the beast inside me had never seemed interested in hurtingme. The thought of losing myself to the darkness made me sick, but what could I do? To save our people, I would use every lost drop inside me. I would lose myself if it meant finding peace for Mistvellen.
Dante knew it too, his rigid shoulders carrying the burden of that knowledge. I sighed. One step at a time. Tonight we danced to a different tune. I just hoped we were all there when the song struck its last chord.
“Do you see anything?” I whispered. Dante twirled me, sending my skirts spinning as he dipped me low and pressed a kiss to my fluttering pulse. His lips were feather light, but the way he kissed me made me feel reverent. My pulse burned for him.
He lifted me back up, placing his palm in mine as we circled each other in the dance. “Nothing yet,” he remarked, his eyes ever searching. “Father increased the guards on duty, and all guests were submitted to checks upon entering. By all rights, we should be safe.”
Should be. I couldn’t help but focus on those two words, because we both knew that wouldn’t be the case. Margit’s visions never lied, which meant one of us could die tonight. That fact left a sour taste in my mouth, a lump in my throat restricting the air in my lungs.
“You know that won’t change our fate,” I said to him in a low voice. “Be vigilant. The killer watches in the shadows. Either cultists have somehow surpassed the guards, or we have traitors in our midst.”
Dante’s hand flexed against my palm. “Whoever it is, they will know my wrath before the end.” He cocked his head as the song changed its tempo, the time for us to change partners approaching quickly. “Give ‘em hell,” he said to me and I barely had time to nod before I was spun towards another guest.
The man said nothing as he took me in his arms, his dark brown eyes glittering black in the low light of fireballs hovering mid-air. The vast hall was bedecked with greenery, flowers of all different colours and types dotting the walls, moss growing up columns and sprouting over the floor. A garden created by the earth witches’ gifts. Even the blue witches had contributed, sending streams of glittering water winding around columns, lazily stretching in an endless loop.
It was utterly romantic and entirely unfitting for a murder scene. I swallowed, watching the nobles dancing, laughing, and drinking, all unaware of the treachery tonight promised. I wished to be one of them. I wished to forget, if only for a moment, so I could pretend that life was normal. That I wassafe.
We all deserved that, didn’t we? To feel safe.
My eyes roved over the man’s wolf mask, which was the replica of all the other masks donned tonight. I’d had Eszter make them, enforcing guests to wear the same mask in attempt to catch any sheep in wolf’s clothing. Literally, if cultists were showing up uninvited. Margit had told me it would do little to change our fate, but I’d had to do something, if only to make us all feel a little better.
The man watched me through the eyeholes, and there was something about the way he stared at me that filled me with unease. I suppressed a shiver as his cold hand shifted in my own, tightening to the point of pain.
“You’re hurting my hand,” I said quietly, calmly. He man remained silent, those black eyes never leaving my own. I frowned, trying to pull my hand away, but he only squeezed harder. “Let. Go.”
My stomach twisted and I looked around for Dante or András, but they were further down the line, hidden behind the dancers beside me. Fuck this shit. My magic flared, and I sent a blaze of power licking out from my palm. The man hissed, raising his arm instinctively, and that’s when I saw it …
A seven-pointed star, etched into his palm. The man smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and a cold wind gusted through the room, causing the fireballs to wink out. The temperature plummeted and unnatural darkness filled the chamber as guests murmured and gasped in surprise.
Blind, I slid my hand to the dagger strapped to my thigh, pulling the blade quietly from its sheath. With my other I clicked my fingers, fire bursting from their tips to light the room.
A sheep mask appeared before me, the same glittering black eyes leering from behind it. I gasped, thrusting my blade forward on instinct. It sank between the man’s ribs easily, and I slipped it up and towards his heart, twisting at the last second, making it as painful as possible.
