Page 82 of Cruelly Fated
I gasped when the estate came into view. The Voltaire castle—what else could one possibly call it?—rose from the mountain’s side like something out of a dream. Positioned at a higher elevation than most of Avari, it mirrored the grandeur of Torian’s estate, but on an even more opulent scale. Turrets capped each corner, and several sprawling balconies, no doubt designed as dragon landing pads, jutted from every level.
“Impressive, right?” Valor said.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I whispered, struggling to find my voice. A surge of unease coiled in my chest. I didn’t belong here, and every part of me knew it. I peered at Valor, panic clear in my eyes.
“Don’t give me that look. We’re going in,” Valor said, hopping out of the car.
Somehow, I found myself climbing the grand stone steps, my arm linked with his. Valor greeted others with nods and effortless charm, while I tried to quiet my racing heart and keep from staring too long at every passing stranger.
I was having a full-blown panic attack and couldn’t even articulate it.
“I need…water,” I croaked.
Valor swiped two champagne flutes from a passing tray. “I’ve got something better. Dom Pérignon.”
I downed the entire glass in a few desperate swallows, eyes scanning the glittering reception hall. Elaborately dressed guests funneled through a set of mammoth doors ahead, ushered into a vaulted ballroom gleaming with gold accents and soft,enchanted lighting. Valor and I moved with them, swept into the flow.
Hundreds of high fae filled the room, forming glittering clusters of silk and jewels. I rose on my tiptoes to see past the crowd, but couldn’t see beyond most tall guests.
“He’s not here. Yet. The king loves to make a fanfare of an entrance with his queen and sons,” Valor whispered into my ear.
“Oh.” The breath I released trembled out of me, my stomach winding itself into a tight, aching knot. Valor paraded us around the room, pausing to exchange clipped greetings and polite smiles. He knew everyone, or at least everyone seemed to know him, and they all wanted a piece of him.
The live music ceased, and a hush fell over the room. A herald announced the dragon king and his family.
Two towering servants pulled open a set of ornate double doors across the ballroom. The man who strode in first had Kyon’s commanding presence, broad shoulders, and squared jaw. The room bowed to him.
The stunning woman at his side carried herself with a regal air. Her tight blond curls formed a halo around her round face, a jeweled brooch pinning it together in the back. Her rose-gold gown shimmered in the light, and her inviting smile seemed to mesmerize the guests. The circle closest to her sounded oohs and aahs in admiration.
The crowd separated for the dragon king, applauding as the couple proceeded to mingle, finally revealing who stood behind them.
Soft curls of platinum blond came into view first. Then Torian’s flawless grin. He stepped into the spotlight when his parents turned their attention to him. Only him. No sign of Kyon.
“They’re not here,” Valor growled under his breath.
“Who?” I craned my neck, scanning the crowd, half-expecting to see my dragon appear at any moment.
“Fucking Rhylan. I’ll rearrange his face if he tries anything with her,” my date muttered. He hadn’t come to enjoy himself or watch me get humiliated.
I elbowed him playfully and slipped my hand free from his gentlemanly hold. “Go.”
“I can’t abandon you,” he said, though his whole body vibrated with tension, one step away from pouncing on his friend.
“He’s not even here yet. I’ll wait. And trust me, I’ll need your genius when the time comes to draw Kyon away from the crowd,” I said with a reassuring smile.
“I’ll be quick,” Valor promised, then vanished in a flash, leaving a ripple of space where he’d just stood.
I gripped my elbows, feeling glaringly out of place without him. Three women about my age glided past, their gazes raking over me like knives before they bent their heads together, giggling behind jeweled hands.
I rolled my eyes. Apparently, elite high fae had their own version of Mean Girls. Was any social circle free of them?
A server passed by with a tray of hors d’oeuvres and sparkling drinks. I snatched another tall glass, letting the chilled liquidcool the nerves knotting my throat. As the crowd surged toward the center for a glimpse of the royal family, I used the opportunity to shuffle in the opposite direction, away from their scrutiny.
“Lovely evening.” A male voice startled me.
I wheeled around and came face-to-face with Torian, the refined brother with a model’s face and the easy perpetual smile.
“Oh…yes, it is,” I managed. Sweat gathered above my lip. I masked my nerves with a long sip of my drink.
