Page 23 of Song of Night

My feet lead me to the balcony, where the dark of the night and the chill of the air help settle my nerves. The ocean is beautiful, but I want nothing more than to be back in my home. Night is an empty hole in my heart, even as war-torn and fraught with peril as it is. I stand there, wind tousling my hair and raising goosebumps along my skin.

“Don’t turn around,” Zara calls softly. “I have to get out of this hideous dress.”

I should tell her that the dress, and her in it, is far from hideous, but I bite my tongue. It’s not my place. And it doesn’t matter anymore.

My mind begins to turn over images of her taking it off. The fact that she told me not to turn around just makes me want to do it all the more. What does she even have to put on in its place? I think I’d seen a wardrobe when we entered, up against the far wall. Whether or not it has clothes that fit us remains to be seen.

What seems like an eternity later, she says, “Okay.”

I wait, not wanting to seem too eager to turn around. When I finally do, I see she’s wearing an oversized white tunic, likely made for a man. It has short sleeves, a V-neck, and hangs about halfway down her thighs. I raise my brows.

Zara shrugs. “It’s the only suitable thing in the wardrobe. The others were….”

She trails off, and the way she says it makes me wonder what exactly is in that wardrobe. But Zara doesn’t need anything special. The way the tunic barely covers her long legs, the cascade of her raven hair down her back… I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that we’re alone in this room with only one bed. I once again wonder at the cruel irony of my recent fate.

I realize I’m staring, and it’s not missed on Zara, either. She locks eyes with me and shifts her balance slightly as if readying for an attack. Instinct, no doubt, because my inner demon is bursting at the seams. She can feel the predator within, she’s a trained warrior, after all. I wrestle my blood lust down, letting out a breath to break the tension between us.

Zara’s shoulders relax slightly. “So, what’s our plan?”

I grind my teeth together. I wish I had one. Without magic, even with our fighting skills we’re going to have a hard time—impossible, really—getting out of this fortress alive. I feel trapped, hopeless.

But I’m going to find a way out of here. I will not fail.

“For tonight, we rest. Tomorrow, we meet with Vyrin, find out what he wants. If it’s something more than merely to toy with me. Then we figure out an escape plan.”

“You don’t think it’ll be too late then?” Zara’s eyes hold mine, two violet flames.

“Whatever he’s up to, he’s going to take his time with it.” I point to the room around us. “Putting us up in one of his best rooms. The bathing hall, the feast. He’s making a big show of us being guests here. Enjoying himself far too much to cut our throats tomorrow.”

Zara shivers. “So, he’s not done yet.”

“Not by far.” I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I fear he’s just getting started.”

Chapter Fifteen

ZARA

Asher’s expression is so serious that another shiver crawls across my skin. Everything tonight at the ball confirmed what he’d warned me of in the rift: Vyrin is a sadistic ruler who clearly enjoys throwing his power around. I’ve lived my entire life in a war zone, spying and stealing and fighting. But this deadly game we now find ourselves in is more dangerous than everything in my past combined.

I don’t see how we can possibly escape alive.

“I—I think Vyrin may have taken an interest in me,” I say quietly. “He doesn’t believe I’m just your… blood servant.”

Asher stiffens. “I noticed.”

“He said he could smell the magic on me,” I continue. “But he can also tell that we lost it.”

A string of curses from across the room. Asher begins to pace. “I was hoping to avoid him finding out about that. And that you’re not my blood servant.”

“Well… that part is mostly true.” I raise my chin and meet his gaze when he pivots toward me. “Ellielle sent me along for that exact reason.”

“She sent you along to get rid of you,” he growls.

“Well, it seems she’ll get her wish.”

Asher looks murderous. “That’s not going to happen.”

I know I should just go along with Asher’s newfound sense of honor and protection. It’s the wise thing to do—we’re in the castle of our greatest enemy, and to be united is to be stronger. But it’s so opposite his cold fury of just hours before that my emotions can’t stop reeling. Confusion being key among them.

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