Page 41 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“You’re looking well.” He angled his head, running his thumb and forefinger over his trim beard as he watched her. The stench of sour ale seeped from his pores, and she held her breath. “It’s been some time since you’ve paid us a visit.”
Because the last time she’d come to the palace, months ago, he’d indulged in too much alcohol and had gotten a little too handsy. When his rough, meaty hand had grazed her ass, Veros had nearly lost his damn mind. Atlas had been forced to bribe his father to retire early for the night with the promise a whore would be waiting in his bed.
Whether or not that was true, Everinne didn’t know. Nor did she care. Though if it was, she pitied whatever woman had to spread her legs for this cocky prick.
She tucked her hands behind her back, clenching her fists. “I was just on my way to join my brother for breakfast.”
“Excellent,” he murmured, his glassy black eyes fixating on the dip of her sweater, where the swell of her breasts was clearly visible.
Gross.
Then the kralv reached out and patted her gently on the head like she was some kind of well-behaved pet. “Don’t stay away too long, the court misses you.”
Yeah.
Sure.
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.” Everinne dipped her chin and sidled past him, wishing the walls of the corridor were slightly larger so she could afford to give him a wide berth.
As she headed to the dining room, she could feel the kralv’s slimy gaze tracking the sway of her hips, and she bit her nails into her palms to keep from screaming.
Gods, that male was vile. Horridly disgusting.
She rounded the corner, finally reaching the safety of the dining hall, and one of the guards opened the door for her. Walking in, she spied Veros instantly. He was seated at the far end of the table, his timepiece in his palm. Magic throbbed in the air, the permeating scent of ink spilled across parchment, worn leather, and soft earth. Swirls of navy blue runes and alternating moon phases surrounded him. He lounged in his chair, scrolling and shifting through the runes with one finger, connecting the space of time and other realms. His power was far beyond her sense of comprehension, but it was entirely fascinating.
The things she would do…the things she wouldchange, if only she could control time.
Everinne gently cleared her throat and Veros’s head snapped up. Immediately, he clicked his timepiece closed, shoved it back into his pocket, his magic vanishing right along with it.
“Everinne.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt, tugging on it lightly. He never liked to be caught off guard. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”
She crossed the floor to join him. “You sound surprised.”
“I am.” He stood, pulling out a chair for her. “Hungry?”
“Famished.”
She lowered herself into the seat next to him at the end of the table, then filled her plate. She grabbed two biscuits, drizzling them with a hefty helping of honey, and snatched a dark chocolate and raspberry pastry from the platter in front of her. Veros slid her a glass of water as well as a steaming cup of coffee loaded with cream and sugar, and while he was acting as though nothing was wrong, there was a troubling line of worry across his brow.
They ate in companionable silence—Everinne devouring the sweets on her plate first as Veros picked at what remained of his omelet.
Everinne licked a drop of chocolate off the tip of her finger. “Remind me to buy the ingredients to make these the next time I go to the market.”
Veros’s gaze slid to her, the corner of his mouth lifting into a mocking smile. “You know how to bake pastries?”
“It can’t be that hard.” She peeled away a section of the flaky crust, then popped it into her mouth. “I’m sure I can figure it out.”
Veros chuckled and she couldn’t recall the last time she actually heard him laugh, at least not in her presence. But then he turned in his seat to face her, all remnants of amusement fading away with his somber demeanor. His eyes, a mirror image of her own yet filled with cool precision, fixed on her.
“Everinne, there’s something we need to discuss.”
She scraped her teeth along her bottom lip, bracing for the inevitable lecture, when the noise of raucous voices echoed just outside the dining hall.
“What the…” Veros jumped out of his seat and positioned himself in front of her, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Always protecting.
She peered around him just as Atlas stumbled into the room, followed by three fae males she’d never seen before.
One of them had auburn hair pulled into a lopsided knot on top of his head. He was rather handsome, in a roguish kind of way, and wore jewel-toned clothing that reminded her of a seafaring captain. Like a faerie pirate. The other two males, however, were exceptionally well-dressed in trim suits, collared shirts, and carried themselves as though they were of noble birth. She supposed they were brothers, given their similar facial structures and unusual hair color. It wasn’t quite black, but more of a deep blue, like the darkest part of the sea.
