Page 5 of Dance of the Phoenix
He scoffed. “I thought we were past that.”
My grin faded a bit before I braced myself on one arm, looking down at him. He gave me a lazy, heavy-lidded, smug look that made me frown. “I’m serious, Ragnor.”
He studied me, his amusement dissolving, and he put his arm around my waist, making me lie on my back with him looming over me. “And here I thought I was out of the woods,” he murmured, giving me a disappointed look. “In the next three weeks, I have to take care of the voting to choose which members will come with us to the Hecatomb. Then, we have the Hecatomb, which will take another week. In total, it’s one month.”
I knew what he was saying. I also knew I should let this go—the man was going to war for my sake, after all—but I couldn’t let go of my fear.
Because the truth was, while he’d told me he loved me and had saved me more than once, he also knew that I was a Sacred. He knew I possessed a power he could utilize for his and his League’s sake. A part of me, a part I wasn’t proud of, was terrified that he only wanted me because of my Sacred status.
And even if it wasn’t that, our earlier conversation had reawakened the pain from him giving me up once. Knowing he was capable of letting me go did not make me feel very secure.
“Then take me out after the Hecatomb business is done with,” I said, forcing out a smile. “That means you’ve got to win this thing, you know.”
He visibly relaxed. “Bold of you to assume I’ll lose,” he told me with a smirk.
I smirked back, pushing down my fears for now. After the Hecatomb was over, I could make Ragnor prove his love and devotion to me. At the moment, he didn’t need to know I was skeptical. That I hardly believed him.
Because in the end, it wasmyissue, not his. And if I learned one thing from my relationship with Logan, my ex-boyfriend, it was that pushing my own insecurities and problems onto the man I was with would only drive him away, with no hope of return.
And I refused to do that with Ragnor. No matter how much my debilitating demons begged to differ.
Chapter 3
Aileen
The Rayne League was abuzz with the upcoming election for the Hecatomb. Every time I visited the cafeteria with Isora and Zoey—both of whom were finally released from the infirmary after spending many days there recuperating from the ghastly, near-death state in which I’d found them in the Jinn headquarters—all everyone talked about was who they would vote for. Even in the Common residence lounge, where the three of us usually got coffee in the afternoon, no one talked about anything else.
“From what I can tell, the Troop Commanders are the leading candidates for the five Gifted representatives,” Zoey told Isora and me a couple of days before the voting. We were sitting in the infirmary near Tansy’s bed, which had become our private hangout spot ever since Ragnor announced the Hecatomb Election. Leah, the nurse in charge, had already given up telling us off, as though she were secretly hoping our voices might wake Tansy up from her coma.
“That’s a no-brainer,” Isora replied as she was braiding her chocolate brown hair. “Of course the League members would want the strongest vampires in the League to represent them.” She paused thoughtfully before she asked, “Who are the Commanders anyway?”
That was a good question, and I had a partial answer. “I know one of them,” I said, “but I don’t know about the rest.”
Zoey, who was combing Tansy’s hair, looked up at me. “I thought your boyfriend would tell you these things.”
Isora snorted, and I gave her a pointed look. “Well, my ‘boyfriend’ and I don’t discuss such matters.”
Both Isora and Zoey realized Ragnor and I had a thing going on, and when I remained tight lipped about our relationship, they resorted to calling him my “boyfriend” once they figured out we were trying to be discreet. That didn’t sit well with me, though. The word “boyfriend” was far too light and precarious for my liking. Yet both of them delighted in seeing my scrunched-nosed reaction every time they said that word, and used it on purpose to get a rise out of me.
“What’s he good for, then?” Isora murmured and winced when I elbowed her. Hard.
Zoey rolled her eyes at our teasing. “Well, there is a Troop show tonight in the auditorium. Want to go?”
“A Troop show?” I asked, frowning. Last night, when Ragnor returned to his suite, which I now shared, he had fallen asleep, barely saying hello to me. He’d been even more exhausted than before, with the Hecatomb coming up, and that meant we didn’t really get to talk. So it kinda chafed that I learned about what was going on in the League through a friend rather than my “boyfriend,” who was the actual Lord of this League.
Zoey released Tansy’s hair and pulled a pamphlet out of the pocket of her jeans. “They handed it out earlier today in the Common lounge,” she said, handing it to me. “Apparently, to help the voters, the Troop Commanders decided to put on a talent show, with our Lord’s approval, to showcase both the Common and Gifted Troop members’ abilities.”
“That’s interesting,” Isora said as she leaned her chin on my shoulder, skimming the pamphlet along with me. “Does it mean the entire Troop is basically volunteering for the Hecatomb?”
“Most likely,” Zoey replied. “After all, who’s better equipped than the military division of the League, full of trained individuals, to fight for the League members’ sake?”
Zoey was right, but then it raised another question: What was the purpose of the voting process, if the Troop members were the obvious choices?
Later that night, I got my answer.
The last time I’d visited the auditorium, or rather the Auction Hall, had been during, well, the Auction in which Ragnor had sold me to Atalon. Which, ironically enough, was what led to the most regrettable situation we were in now.
Instead of sitting in the front rows awaiting my turn to show off my talents and to be bid on, I was a spectator in the audience this time, eagerly waiting for the show to start.
