Page 42 of All the Pain of Promises
Grimacing, Solarius ordered a spiced whiskey, intent on keeping to himself. He was grateful none of the Thundercloud’s patrons looked familiar as he was hardly in the mood for company. Instead, all he wanted to do was punch Calfair hard enough to knock his smug smile off his face. He also considered taking great delight in breaking every bone in his body.
By some horrible yet hostile twist of fate, a gust of wind blew open the door to the Thundercloud and in strode Calfair with two of his crude cronies.
Calfair’s dark, coiffed hair was swept back from his face, slick like it had been coated in luster oil. His cheekbones were too sharp, his smile too wide. Solarius knew many ladies considered him quite the catch, most of them gushing about his flawlessskin or striking black eyes. But Calfair’s handsome looks were strictly a veneer, a perfected glamour to disguise the venomous serpent hiding in plain sight. He wore a pristine white shirt tucked into perfectly tapered light pants and his cruel grin was made predominantly worse by the pitiful excuse for facial hair sprouting from his chin.
If Solarius didn’t know any better, he would have sworn Calfair plucked his own pubic hair and then attached the black sprouts to his face.
“Then I made her dance for me until her pretty feet bled.” Calfair’s boisterous voice drew the attention of almost every soul in the tavern. No doubt he was talking about the horrors he inflicted upon his pets—the mortals he kept in cages hidden within the pristine walls of House Galefell. “I debated bringing her to our next ball, but I fear she’ll be dead by then.”
Calfair chuckled darkly.
Seething rage pumped through Solarius’s veins. He knocked back his shot of whiskey, then crushed the empty glass in his hand. Shards of broken glass cut into his palm, and scarlet oozed between his knuckles. He ignored the pain pulsing from his palm and pushed back from his seat. Shoving his way through the crowd of bodies, he discarded his overcoat onto the back of an empty chair and quietly rolled the sleeves of his shirt, buttoning them into place.
Calfair’s glossy black eyes found him.
“Solarius.” His name fell somewhere between a greeting and disgust, and Calfair flashed him a caustic smirk. “Can’t say I expected to see you here, old friend. I would have thought you’d be busy enjoying your new wife. A bit too free spirited for my liking…great tits, though.”
Uncomfortable laughter rang out, but Solarius heard nothing save for the rushing of his own blood. Closing the distance between them in two long strides, he met Calfair with a callousglare, standing so close, he could smell the ale tainting his breath.
“Do noteverspeak of Narissa again,” Solarius warned.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll fucking kill you.”
The mocking amusement in Calfair’s eyes dimmed to cold understanding. “Ah…figured it out then, did you?”
Solarius popped his jaw. “That you drugged Narissa, then stole her virtue by pretending to be me?” His fists coiled tightly, ready to strike. “Yeah. I figured it out.”
“Too bad for you I got there first,” Calfair chided, then he tapped one finger against his chin, considering. “Tell me, have you bedded her yet?”
Calfair ran his tongue along his teeth, and at Solarius’s silence, a sadistic smile stretched across his face. “No? So, you haven’t heard that sweet little sound she makes when she finds release? Pity. Though it no longer matters. She may spread her legs for you, but we both know it will only be my face she sees from now on…good luck with that.”
Blind rage pummeled Solarius and he slammed his fist into Calfair’s face with so much force, the bastard’s head snapped back and blood spurted from his busted mouth. Calfair stumbled back, staring at the crimson stains littering his crisp white shirt, and launched himself toward Solarius. Screams and shouts filled the Thundercloud, but he was ready. His other fist hooked through the air and the satisfying sound of bone crunching against Calfair’s too-straight nose fueled him with even more fury.
They grappled, taking vicious swings at one another while attempting to throw the other to the ground. At one point, Calfair’s head bounced off the granite bar and Solarius thought for certain the prick would finally stay down, take his beating like a proper lord, and leave before he humiliated himselffurther. But he hauled himself upright and sent a gust of wind barreling into Solarius. He flew through the air, slamming into anything in his path, until his back met a wooden table, splintering it in half. Pain ricocheted through his body, a silent scream of agony that tore from his shoulder to his spine.
His own lunar magic roared to life, ready to bring down the wrath of the midnight heavens, but Solarius suppressed the surge of power.
He shook off the discomfort and launched himself at Calfair, prepared to mutilate him with nothing more than his bare fists. If that lousy excuse for a fae needed to cheat and use his magic because he was losing, then Solarius would make sure his defeat marred his honor for the rest of his days.
He got in one more vengeful hit, the might of his elbow colliding with the underside of Calfair’s jaw, before someone’s hand clamped around his fist.
“What the—” Solarius whipped around to face the offender. He had every intention to tell them off for interfering, but instead found his brother-in-law staring back at him.
Drake Kalstrand stood just behind Solarius, the play of light in the tavern bouncing off every surface but him, leaving Drake cloaked in a touch of darkness. His mouth was set in a firm line, and the leathers he wore were a far cry from the polished appearance of other males, lending him an air of intimidation. For a brief moment, Solarius thought Drake meant to rebuke him for fighting in public—if Ariesian had been the one to discover him, he would never hear the end of it—but the focus of Drake’s deadly glare was aimed at Calfair.
“Take a breath.” Drake released him then, adjusting the roughened strap of leather bound across his chest, the one decorated with a varying assortment of daggers.
“He’s still standing.” Solarius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, blood smearing his skin.
“That may be…” Drake glanced in his direction and rolled his shoulders back, the depths of his eyes reflecting a kind of commiseration, as though he understood just how much Solarius wanted to end Calfair’s life. “But I’m afraid I cannot allow you to kill him.”
“Why not?” Solarius barely recognized his own voice. He flexed his hands, chest heaving, heart pounding.
“It would be in poor taste.”
Solarius cut Drake with a look of severity. “What are you talking about, Drake?”
