Page 12 of A Storm in Every Heart
Summoned by the commotion, Kastian is striding toward us from the opposite side of the grounds, Fox right behind him. The amusement that was in Kastian’s face earlier is gone, and if I didn’t know him I’d take his expression as a sign to find cover.
Jett grimaces at Daemon, and waits for Kastian to reach us before answering. “The current one.” His face screws up as if bracing for impact. “But that’s not all. I talked to some of the crew and listened in on a few conversations…”
“And?” Daemon prompts.
Jett glances behind Daemon at Kastian and then, oddly enough, atme. “Maybe we should go into the barracks and sit down to discuss this.”
My eyebrows raise. Jett isn’t usually the type to notice or care about silly things like tact or decorum.
Unfortunately, Daemon isn’t either. “Spit it out,” he demands.
Jett sucks in a breath. “The King of Hydratta sent an emissary to speak with you. The word among the crew is that he’s decided to take a wife.”
“Fuck,” Daemon curses under his breath. “I suppose I should have seen that coming.”
Beside me, Alix reaches out and grips my fingers. “You don’t have to do anything,” she mutters under her breath.
I startle, tearing my eyes away from Jett to meet her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything,” she repeats, her pale-blue eyes widening earnestly. “Fuck the king of Hydratta and his emissary. We’ll go to war with them if that’s what it takes.”
“Hold on,” Fox says roughly, his expression tight as it is every time he’s forced to speak. “We’re not ready for a war.”
Alix glares daggers at him. “We’ll go to war if that’s what it takes,” she repeats slowly, her voice turning low and dangerous. “Right, Daemon?”
“Right, Peaches,” Daemon echoes without hesitation. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Wait!” I blurt out, pulling my fingers from Alix’s grasp. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. What don’t I have to do? What war?”
A heavy silence falls over the group. I blink at Alix, and only when I take in her tight, serious expression does realization dawn.
The king of Hydratta has been writing letters to Daemon and Alix for months because he wants an alliance and now his representative is here to announce the king intends to take a wife.
Royal marriages are only ever about land or alliances, and somehow, against all odds, I’ve found myself in the center of a royal household where the only eligible marriage candidates are Aurelia, who most people don’t know exists, andme.
It feels as if a blanket of shock has fallen over me. My heart pounds relentlessly against my chest, and I can’t quiet my racing thoughts long enough to think of anything to say.
Without really meaning to, I seek Kastian’s gaze, searching for…something. I don’t know what.
And I’ll never find out because Kastian doesn’t even glance in my direction; all I can see is his rigid shoulders and the back of his head as, without a word, he turns on his heel and strides away toward the barracks.
ODESSA, PRESENT
Daemon orders everyone to reconvene in the barracks in half an hour, but I can’t think of a single thing to do with myself in the meantime. How am I supposed to wait an entire thirty minutes to hear about this hypothetical alliance I’m being thrust into?
With a frustrated huff, I march straight to the barracks intending to wait in the meeting room. Clearly thinking the same thing, Jett follows. He speeds up to walk beside me. “Sorry to fuck up your afternoon.”
I look sideways at him. His wings have disappeared again, but his coal-black hair is still windswept and his equally black eyes are bright with adrenaline. Between his dark hair and eyes and the head-to-toe black clothing he’s wearing, he’s really leaning into his namesake.
I huff out a breath. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault. Are you alright?”
“Of course, why?” he asks.
“Because of the wings. Were you threatened?”
“It was nothing, I was fine.” Jett grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as we reach the entrance to the barracks.
The building is a recent addition to the estate, built to house the hundreds of soldiers who take it in turns to guard the king and queen. It’s a long rectangular structure, mostly filled with dormitory-style bedrooms. There’s a large dining room and several areas to store weapons, as well as a few empty rooms on the first level that still have no purpose. It’s one of those rooms that has become our meeting place. A long dining table and eight mismatched chairs are the only furniture.
