Page 49 of The Lost Siren

“Of course.”

He left through the still opened passage, and D’Arcy imperiously sat himself on the best chair in the room. He helped himself to a cup of tea and crossed his legs. Only after he had taken a few sips did he finally turn his gaze to me. He wore a fur pelt that covered his shoulders, and to my disgust I saw the stuffed wolven head on his back. He was wearing this onpurpose. His eyes challenged me, daring me to say something. I looked away.

“A private word with Wren. To what do I owe the honor?”

I tapped my fingers against the armrest of my chair, eyes narrowing.

“I’d like you to start the Games again. Specifically, something that testsloyalty.” D’Arcy’s face brightened in interest.

“May I ask why—"

“You may not,” I cut in, “besides, what is wrong with me making sure the king’s subjects are completely loyal?”

D’Arcy’s entire demeanor changed to one of extreme caution. It would have been humorous had the situation not been so serious. I nonchalantly picked up another sugar cube and added it to my tea, stirring vigorously. He shifted and opened his mouth.

“I can assure youallDrakens have the utmost loyalty to our king, unlike a fewhumansI know.”

I smiled, but it was a brittle and dangerous thing.

“Then arranging such a challenge will be of no trouble to you. If I die during it, all the better, right?”

D’Arcy sat back in his chair, considering me in a new light.

“Youplan to compete? Benedict may hate you, but he still won’t let you die. Draken instincts are so utterlypredictableat times. Going through the trouble of making it possible would be dreadfully difficult.”

“But for my death you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

I kept my face calm, but my palms began to sweat. His eyes were calculating.

“And what could you do for me in themeantime? If I go to such trouble, I want it to be worth my investment.”

His finger trailed lasciviously around the edge of his teacup; his eyes boring into mine. His voice was a dark whisper in the air.

“I think you know what I’d like.”

I forced myself to relax, as if I were considering it. He smirked, so different from Benedict’s that I felt ill. Benedict’s smirk was the confidence of a leader, whereas D’Arcy’s was simply arrogant. He hadno ideawhat I was planning.

“I know. How about you simply come when I call, like thepetyou are,” he replied, unbothered. I caught the greedy glint in his eyes and swallowed heavily. Every instinct inside of me screamed, but Ineededhim.

“Fine.”

I stood, letting him know our meeting was over.

“The task will be tomorrow then?

He held up one finger, shaking it delicately at me.

“And ruin my fun before it’s begun? I think not.”

D’Arcy rose from his chair, his eyes running up and down the length of my body. I made sure to wear one of the sheer dresses today, making sure only the barest essentials were covered beneath the flimsy gauze. I wasn’t proud of it, but I would do what was needed. He found what he was looking for, a cruel grinning tweaking the corners of his mouth.

“Three days.”

I turned to dismiss him, but he was quicker. One hand shot up and grabbed my jaw in a vice grip, forcing my face to his. I tried to relax, or at the very least not fight him. It was difficult; images of Bair bleeding out flashing before my eyes. He pulled my bottom lip with his teeth, his fangs too close for comfort. He drew away quickly as someone growled from behind me.

“Am I interrupting?”

I went white as Benedict’s frame filled the passageway. D’Arcy practically beamed at him, and I wanted to smack the smirk from his face so badly. How was it possible Sabien was his son instead of Bair? The uncle and nephew were too far alike for my own tastes.

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