Page 123 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘Really?’ I laughed quietly, seeing the tension in his jaw as those dark eyes moved down to me once more. He contemplated the small smile on my lips for a silent moment before ducking closer as if it was only us in this cursed ballroom. His hand rested so firmly against the curve of my waist.
‘I’m furious.’ The soft lethal nature to those words brushed my ear. ‘Furious you have to spend a moment in their presence.That you have to breathe the same air as beings as unpleasant as this and I hate the darkness it puts in your eyes.’
‘It was my fault. I brought us—’
‘I don’t care.’ His answer was harsh with deadly intent. I felt the cool brush of his magic against the curve of my throat in reassurance, soothing the hammering of my pulse, making my breath stutter through my lips. A wildness in him that pressed me closer. Something equally wild in me wanting free.
‘Did you break that glass?’ I ran my hand from the curve of his elbow to the strong line of his shoulder.
‘He should be grateful that’s all I did.’ Such a vicious coldness in his words. I feared I could ask him anything and he’d do it. Just as Thean had mocked.
‘It’ll be over soon. We’ll be home,’ was the only soft reassurance I could give, allowing it to spread a comforting warmth through my chest.
Home.The word settled in the small space between us and there was nothing deadly about that new light seeping into his eyes.
I wasn’t quite able to breathe as those eyes bled into a darkness without end that had nothing to do with anger or threat, but something more primal. Here in the circle of his arms I couldn’t lie to myself any longer. How the Kysillian instincts in me rose to the challenge, wanting all his strength closer. Wanting it as I’d wanted nothing else.
‘Tell me how to survive you, Kat.’ Those words brushed my ear like a secret, and I heard his anguish. Felt it in the pull of his magic, softly brushing my skin. Cautious of hurting me as it swept over my collarbone with reverence, knowing it could never have the hold it wanted. That it could never have me.
The music reached its final swell as I felt his fingers curl into the lacings at the back of my dress. The reluctance to letme go, making me tighten my hold on him. Uncaring that it was wrong. That it was dangerous.
‘I’m right here, Emrys,’ I barely whispered against the edge of his jaw. My own challenge, letting those dark eyes settle on me once more.
A clattering of applause drew us slowly from our embrace as he hesitantly let me go. The swell of people overtook us again, some of the ladies pushing forward to mob him. Clearly seeing Emrys dancing unmanned not only me.
That thought brought a stinging flush to my cheeks, making me retreat to the windows. Needing the cool air on my skin, to hide once again in the dusty alcoves before I got myself in more trouble. I quickened my steps as another song began, pressing my fingers against my brow for any relief, only to collide with someone.
The cold chill of rain on their coat, the shock of blond hair and the pure searing hatred twisting their face into something repulsive, shocking me into a stumbling halt.
‘Finneaus?’ I demanded, forgetting myself, unable to understand how Ainsworth’s son was before me. But those pointy rodent-like features could only belong to him. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Watch your mouth, troll,’ he half sneered in response, reaching for me with the same barbarity Lord Percy had.
‘Creative as always.’ I slapped his hand off me with too much strength, making him yelp like the mongrel he was. The stone tucked in my corset burned with warning.
‘I’d be careful, Mr Ainsworth, Miss Woodrow isn’t fond of surprise guests,’ a voice called coldly over my shoulder. Dread sunk like a stone in my gut as I turned to see the predatory face. Hair smoothed back, fixing the dark gloves that covered his hands. His navy riding coat damp at the shoulders from the night rain.
Montagor.
Chapter Thirty-Five
You can burn down this world if you wish, but that is not our way.
The memory of my father’s voice came back to soothe me, and for once I hated the reasoning in it as my hands curled into fists. My fingers burned with the urge to summon flame. To burn the reptile and his master.
This was a nightmare, one come real, for these men to be here now. Still coldly handsome, Montagor had an ugly fading bruise down one side of his face that I knew I hadn’t given him.
‘I see no introductions are necessary,’ Lord Percy mused, joining our horrid new gathering.
‘Unfortunately, I’ve run into the Institute’spetbefore, Lord Percy,’ Montagor replied, the ruthlessness of his smile not losing its sharp edge.
‘I suppose you wish to see Lord Blackthorn too?’ Lord Percy added with a respectful bow, confirming my suspicion that he was a spineless worm.
Montagor didn’t even glance in his direction – no, his focus was intently on me. His eyes flicked down to my chest, not out of interest, but like he could see that stone where I felt its warmth against my skin. ‘If I know anything about dear Emrys, I’m certain he’s already on his way here.’
Fear chilled my blood. Of all the things he shouldn’t see. The familiarity between myself and Emrys. That weakness to be wanted that I’d allowed myself to foolishly indulge in. Just how viciously this could all end.
‘Leave us,’ Montagor commanded softly, my heart rioting within my chest, but I refused to let it show. Refused to be cowed by this monster. ‘You seem surprised by my presence, Miss Woodrow .’
