Page 70 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“What?”
“Choose Everinne to be your wife.”
He shook his head. “I can’t, Veros will kill me.”
Caedian smirked, unsheathing half of his sword so the blinding lights of the ballroom slashed across the blade in an array of colors. “He can try. Veros might be the Lord of Time, but you’re the Prince of Prava, and I know where the line is drawn between friendship and duty.”
Atlas tucked his hands behind his back and paced the small balcony, the click of his boots silent over the roar of music and voices reverberating through the ballroom. He ran his teeth along his bottom lip, a spear of apprehension piercing his gut. If he did this, if he chose Everinne, then there was a very real chance he would lose his best friend. Veros had made it perfectly clear he wanted Atlas to keep his hands to himself, to neither toy with her affections nor her heart. But Veros didn’t know his sister occupied Atlas’s every waking thought, that she haunted his dreams, that when Everinne was around, Atlas couldn’t even fucking breathe.
She’d stolen his air. His heart. His soul.
And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Except…marry her.
Another thought rushed to the forefront of his mind, and in one second, his blood turned to ice. He stilled, glancing over at Caedian, who was still lounging against the door.
“Caed…” Atlas blew out a harsh breath. “She could refuse me.”
He shrugged, as if such a thing was impossible. “Then you kiss her. She’ll know with absolute certainty then.”
Atlas dropped his head back, rolling it from side to side until his neck cracked. A kiss would be damning. Everinne would feelit, she would be able to sense the bond, she would know the moment it snapped into place. But that didn’t mean she had to accept it. What if she didn’t want him? She could deny him, deny their bond, and the suffering would be inescapable. For the rest of his days, whether it be centuries or an eternity, he would be tied to her.
Her heartbeat would pulse through his veins.
Anytime she drew breath, his lungs would fill.
He would share her dreams, her thoughts, her emotions. All of it. All of her. Forever.
And for him, there would never be another.
Caedian shoved off the door frame, adjusting slightly to allow Atlas the opportunity to pass.
“Listen, if you don’t do this, if you choose someone else because you think you’re unworthy of her, and because you’re worried it might ruin your friendship with Veros, the regret will eat away at you like a disease.” He paused, then added, “I’d rather die than be separated from my mate for an eternity.”
Death would be welcomed, a long-awaited reprieve.
“I’m going to ask her.” The words fell from Atlas’s mouth before he could stop them, before he could take them back.
His mother’s ring burned a hole in his pocket, and now he could only picture the sparkling teal sapphire on Everinne’s finger.
“The fuck are you waiting for?” Caedian barked, jerking his head toward the swarming ballroom. “Go find her.”
“Fine.” Atlas tugged on the front of his dark green silk shirt, straightening it, then glared at his Captain of the Guard. “Bossy prick.”
Caedian bent forward at the waist in a mocking bow and Atlas strode past him, descending the staircase, and was immediately swallowed by the sweltering perfumed air.
The overpowering scent of heady florals, mixed spices, and clean soap caused his eyes to burn. Normally during such a party, he might consider amplifying his magic, drawing every gaze in his direction with a careless smile, but right now, all he wanted to do was maneuver through the crowd of bodies undetected. He popped his collar and ducked his head, attempting to slide and squeeze by the dancers without being noticed, all while searching for some sign of Everinne. Curious hands trailed over his arms, caressed his stomach, and he gritted his teeth as he untangled himself from more than one bold female who dared to touch him as he passed.
He should threaten to run his blade through their wrists, then maybe that would teach them to keep their hands to themselves. He opened his mouth to imply just such a promise to a promiscuous little vamp who’d snared one finger into the waistband of his pants, when he caught sight of Everinne standing next to a fae with vibrant pink hair.
Atlas removed the vampire’s finger from his pants, but her pout turned to a scowl when he nudged her out of the way.
“Not tonight,milazk,”he muttered, ignoring her protests. “Go find something else to suck.”
She bared her fangs, a flash of white against crimson lips, but he paid her no attention. His gaze was trained on Everinne. Her dark hair was twisted high on top of her head into a lopsided bun, and she was fiddling with a necklace dripping with purplish-blue stones. A flurry of movement snagged Atlas’s attention, and he watched as Aran Ruhdneah made his way toward Everinne from the other side of the room, his pirate-like swagger unmistakable. Those damned star lord brothers were following right on his heels. The younger one, Nyxian, looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else, but the older one, Tovian, had his eyes fixated on a female fae with turquoise eyes andamethyst studs piercing her ears. If Atlas was quick enough, he could cut them off and get to her first.
But a cold, familiar voice kept him frozen in place. “Looking for someone?”
