Page 53 of All the Pain of Promises
Narissa yelped and threw both arms wide to recover her balance as she lost her footing. She smacked into something solid, and the stench of ale and heavy pine slammed into her, causing her stomach to clench and her nose to crinkle in distaste.
The hand gripping her elbow yanked once more, spinning her, and she came face to face with Lord Calfair Skyhelm.
A thousand thoughts and terrors sprang to the forefront of her mind. The night he drugged her came hurtling back, planting crippling, traumatic images in her head. His sloppy mouth whispering crude obscenities into her ear. His cold hands groping and pinching her thighs and nipples. The lack of warmth emanating from him. And the sickening scent of dragon root mixed with mulled wine.
Lord Calfair’s upper lip curled into a vicious sneer, and the whites of his eyes were red from exhaustion and overindulgence. The side of his face was a sickly green shade, likely where he was still healing from one of Solarius’s well-aimed punches. He blinked hard as though trying to focus, and his lascivious gaze raked over her, lingering on her navel and the outline of her breasts.
The hand that gripped her elbow snaked its way to her wrist, dragging her closer, pinning her between the railing of the staircase and his body. His hold was punishing, his fingers dug into her skin, and she was sure to bruise.
“I believe you owe me a dance, Lady Narissa.” Lord Calfair’s words slurred, his hot, rank breath sticking to her cheek.
She edged back, grabbing the railing with one hand, piercing the wooden veneer with her nails. “You are mistaken, my lord. I don’t owe you anything.”
“Think of it as a way to make up for your rudeness.” His mouth twisted into a heinous smile as his other arm snatched her waist, pressing her into the railing with so much force, she thought for certain he meant to push her over completely. He stared at her like she was a conquest, like she was unworthy of even being in the same room as him. “You come intomyhome, mingle inmyballroom dressed likethat, and yet you do not even grant me the courtesy of your attention.”
The curve of the rail prodded Narissa’s back, sending a spike of fear into her heart, one that rattled her bones. She did not care to draw any unwanted attention, nor did she particularly like the idea of tumbling over the edge of the staircase. And she was not going to allow this slimy, depraved male to wield any kind of power over her ever again.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She pressed one hand firmly against his chest and shoved. Lord Calfair swayed a bit but still he held his ground. She met his glare with one of her own. “Butyoudid not invite me tonight. The invitation was extended to me by?—”
“You think I give a fuck about my sister?” he hissed, spittle flying and clinging to the sparse black hairs protruding from his chin. “You are here, deliberately tempting me by wearing a dress like that, and if you think for one moment I will control my urges simply because you are now wedded, you are sorely mistaken.”
He crushed her to him and her lungs caved, hollowing out as she struggled to catch her breath against the rank stench of him.
“Do not make a scene, Lady Narissa.” The threat raked across her skin, and she stiffened against him, struggling to free herself from his hold. “Youwilldance with me. Unless you’d rather go somewhere more private.”
Narissa shook her head, ready to object, to scream if she must, because surely someone would hear her. Surely someone wouldseeher fight him off, someone was bound to come to her rescue. She wasn’t invisible. Not now. But then a muscular arm shot out from beside her, and in a blur of color and movement, Solarius was there. His scent engulfed her, eased the erratic beating of her heart, as the bond steadied her, secured her. Solarius locked his hand around Lord Calfair’s neck and squeezed, the veins of his hands straining with barely contained rage.
“Release my wife,” he growled, venom dripping from his voice as the silver of his eyes darkened to an unfathomable shade. “Now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Solarius’s hand around Calfair’s throat was the best sort of vengeance.
He could feel him struggle to swallow against his grip, knew that if he squeezed a little bit tighter, then the air would cease to flow. Knew that if he used the full might of his strength, he could crush Calfair’s neck, turn his bones to dust. Solarius enjoyed the way his former friend’s eyes bulged slightly, and he delighted in the mottled shade of purple blooming over Calfair’s skin while his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. There would be no greater satisfaction than killing him right here, right now.
But a soft voice entered his mind, slinking past the fog of revenge clouding his mind.
“Let him go.”
Narissa’s delicate hand curled around his upper arm, and Solarius tightened his hold. Calfair struggled, gasping as the veins along the whites of his eyes popped.
“Solarius. Let him go.” Narissa’s tone was gentle yet firm. “I want to go home. Release him and take me home.”
Home.
Not to Windsong.
Not to Azurvend.
Buthome.
To Celestine.
He released his grip on Calfair and the bastard started choking, swallowing greedy gulps of air as though that would somehow save his damned soul. Solarius was well aware of the fact that nearly everyone in the ball was staring at them. Nobles from every house in Aeramere stood in uncomfortable silence watching the altercation unfold. But he found he no longer cared what anyone thought—let them talk. They would know how easily he could end them if they so much as dared to lay a finger upon his wife.
Solarius draped his arm around Narissa’s shoulders, curling her into his side as a means of protection.
Calfair was still coughing, rubbing one hand over his neck where the skin was swollen and bruised. His dark, watery gaze shot their way, and he sneered.
