Page 35 of Cruelly Fated
“How are you so calm?” I whispered. “Everyone’s staring. Judging.”
“I grew up in this world. It’s second nature by now.”
“And Kyon… Does he come to these kinds of parties too?” I asked, instantly regretting it as heat rushed to my cheeks. Fantastic, way to embarrass myself by grilling his best friend. Couldn’t I play it cool once? Play hard to get and all that shebang? Ugh.
Valor chuckled, the sound drawing curious glances to us as we stepped into the grand hall. He pulled me closer, draping his arm across the small of my back like he owned me.
A man with distinctive blond curls peeled away from a group of similarly gorgeous fae. The marine blue lapels on his black tux reflected the richness in his eyes. He smirked with confidence of a large predator.
“And who’s the lucky lady?” the fae asked, his gaze raking over me. His irises flickered with orange, just like Kyon’s had.
“My date, Allie,” Valor said with practiced ease. “Allie, meet Torian. Kyon’s brother.”
Oh. I eyed Torian anew. He shared that wide jawline and full bottom lip with his brother, but the resemblance ended there. While Kyon had raw looks and savage intensity about him, Torian was both ethereal and unapologetically masculine.
His lips brushed the back of my hand. “So you know my brother?” When did he pick up my hand?
“A little,” I said with a small, uncertain smile.
“I talk about him too much,” Valor teased.
I giggled with my rehearsed, artificial laugh.
Torian continued to study me, curiosity flickering behind his eyes. “Enjoy your date. Excuse me.” He stepped away, disappearing into the crowd.
I rose onto my toes and whispered into Valor’s ear. “Why not just tell him why I’m here?”
“Kyon doesn’t want to implicate his brother. Torian’s in line for the crown. Wouldn’t be a great look for him.”
So even from behind bars, Kyon was protecting his family.
I strolled on wooden legs, letting Valor guide me. We passed through various salons, each flaunting a different vibe. The white room hurt my eyes with its pure white walls, a polar bear skin rug in the center, and gleaming silver leather furniture. An enormous crystal chandelier sparkled overhead, and the women glittered like gemstones, draped in layers of jewelry that often clashed against their overdone gowns.
Valor inclined his head and offered greetings as we passed through. Every so often, he reminded me to breathe and smile. And when someone asked a question, I squeezed his arm with a breathy giggle. I had no clue what to say, so Valor answered for me, effortlessly. How could he know all these people?
In the black salon, the atmosphere shifted. Guests here, mostly vampires, showed off more of their skin and trailed other high fae with dreamy eyes. The high fae’s blood was potent and new vampires often struggled with their restraint. Some hungrystares landed on me. I glued myself to Valor’s side; by far, he was the only vampire I trusted.
Then we entered the red room: blood-red wallpaper with gold-flecked patterns, matching velvet furniture, and lighting dim enough to blur edges. The same thumping techno spilled from the speakers overhead, but the air seemed more charged. Guests danced in provocative rhythms on the center stage, some already tangled in each other’s arms like they’d forgotten they were in public.
Valor tugged me off to the side, snagging two bubbling drinks from a passing server’s tray. Another server came by with tiny glasses of shimmering blue powder—smaller than a club shot. Valor waved him off with a curt flick of his fingers.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Lunax,” he said without missing a beat. “A high-tier hallucinogen.”
I heard rumors swirling in my district about the newest high fae craze. Lunax was an indulgence low fae envied and would kill for. Somehadkilled to get their hands on it.
Valor’s gaze slid toward the back of the room to a raised seating area framed by crimson curtains. A single couch sat atop a low dais, and a hulking man in a black tux with long, ink-dark hair slicked back from his angular face, sprawled across the cushions like a king. He surveyed the dance floor with bored amusement, a champagne flute in one hand.
As a server approached with a tray of the glimmering blue powder, the man accepted one of the tiny crystal glasses andbrought it to his nose. I watched, transfixed, as the Lunax shimmered and lifted on its own, drifting in delicate threads toward his nostrils like it was alive.
“That’s him,” Valor murmured. “Come.”
He took the full glass from my hand and returned it to a passing server’s tray. Damn. I’d been hoping to empty that thing for a shot of courage before diving into someone’s head again.
The gargoyle’s eyes tracked us the moment we stepped into his field of vision. A faint flicker of blue shimmered across the whites of his eyes like oil on water.
“Valor,” he said in a gravel-and-smoke voice, “it’s been a while.” His eyes roamed down my legs and up again. The dress Valor had chosen hugged every curve and dipped just enough to make it look like an invitation, intentional or not. The fact that Valor knew my size and what suited my body disturbed me a little.
