Page 102 of A City of Flames

The vision of the dungeons disappears, and I’m back in the forest fields while my heart twists and aches in my chest.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you, Goldie?”

I can’t. “Nothing is going on.” I almost stumble as I push myself off him. “I’m just still weak from the attack.”

He stares at me with absolute silence. His eyes drift from my face down to my chest, and in an instant, I know he is trying to listen to my heart. I start to walk back the way we came from before he can sense my lie, and I mumble in panic, “Shall we head out—I should—”

“You haven’t even gone in yet.” He stops me and grabs my shoulders, turning me towards the inn.

Oh, Solaris, no.

“Darius, no! They will notice I’m not one of them, and not to mention I’ve killed a few during the attack. I’m not ready to be torn apart. It’d be too unfair when I’m still weak and have no weapons,” I hiss as I spin to face him. Still, my words only seem to amuse Darius even more as he folds his lips but ultimately can’t help letting out a laugh.

My face burns and I’m positive steam is billowing out of my nostrils. “Why are you laughing!”

“Just trust me, Goldie. No one will do anything if they see you are with me. Plus, I’d hate to have to—” He pauses for a moment, his gaze sliding from my eyes to every other part of me before settling back on them. “Tear apart my own kind.”

“I’m flattered,” I say dryly.

He clicks his tongue. “Can’t have the only person Tibith likes dying.”

“He is right, Miss Nara!” Tibith says from the ground and then skips to the doors of the inn.

I groan as Darius leads me up to the entrance. Anyone would think I’m idiotic for agreeing to any of this, but as we enter through the doors, chatter and jeers greet me.

It’s a dimly lit tavern busy with shifters sitting and drinking on round tables. A polished oak countertop serves warm foods that mix with the heady scent of ale. Pale yellow walls darken with the shadows of everyone, then lighten as some shifters unfurl flames from their palms, laughing as they flick it to others.

I jump back as Tibith rolls past with a giggle and into the crowded inn. I don’t even realize I made a sound and clutched Darius’s arm as people seem to stop what they are doing. Mugs slam onto the tables, and the music stops. They all turn their heads to us—specifically me.

Grave faces look toward me, and nostrils flare as they catch my scent. I glance up at Darius and frown as he looks at my fist tightening on his shirt. My hands unlatch from him in record speed before he turns to the shifters.

“As you were.” A graceful bow, borderline mocking as the corner of his lip lifts into a stunning smile.

As if nothing has happened, they resume to talking and drinking. Irritation unleashes in my veins at Darius’s smug expression but not before my gaze widens as a goblin passes us, smiling up at Darius while waving his drink in a matter of greeting.

I recognize the same bat-like ears and remember the goblin Archer—Darius took back from the Draggards.

Darius notices my gaping expression and says, “Told you he was safe.”

He really is...

I shake my head in disbelief, but then a man yells Darius’s name. It’s gravelly and hoarse, reminding me of a rustic violin. Darius and I turn our heads to the man slapping the backs of other shifters; he halts before shaking Darius’s hand in a friendly manner. Though shifters do not age past thirty, you can notice when one is mature just by the structure of their face, firm, sharp lines across the forehead just like the shifter back at the dungeons.

Flecks of brown and green sparkle in his eyes as he gives me a once-over. Obsidian hair rests by his shoulders, matching the thick beard and bronzed golden skin. Leaning to the side of Darius as if trying not to be conspicuous, he asks, “What is a mortal doing here?”

“She’s no threat, Gus,” Darius says in the same whispering tone. Do they not realize I am right here?

Gus’s brows rise and lips thin. “I hope you’re right—”

“You must be the leader,” I interrupt them, uncaringly as Gus’s eyes shift to meet mine.

He takes a step towards me, looking at my face in the sternest expression, much like Idris’s stare on others when he wants to intimidate. “The one and only.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glance around the tavern. Some shifters chant at someone who strips down nude at their demand and stands atop a table scattered with dice. Wanting to clear that image from my mind, I look at Gus. “Is it normal for you to let your people walk around naked? Or is that too much for you to control as a leader?”

His eyes narrow a fraction, studying me. I raise my brows as a response before he bursts into a bright laugh alongside Darius.

My forehead scrunches at what is going on in front of me. Gus pats his hand on Darius’s shoulder and glances at me, this time with a warm smile. “What’s your name, mortal?”

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