Page 12 of Rain of Shadows and Endings

Tessa swallowed but nodded her acknowledgement, and he led her back down to the grand hall. Heads turned and eyes followed them as Theon escorted her to the dais. The other heirs were already present, their Sources seated beside them, all with bruises on their necks. It was the one and only time Fae would be given such a seat of honor.

Two empty chairs were at the end of the table, and Theon pulled one out for her, pushing it in as she sat. As soon as he took his seat, servers appeared, setting bowls of summer corn and herb soup in front of the heirs. Once the heirs were served, the newly chosen Sources were served before the staff moved on to the Lords and Ladies.

Tessa was too preoccupied searching the crowd for Dex and the others to eat, and Theon took notice. He leaned over, nudging the soup spoon towards her.

“Eat, Tessa,” he said softly into her ear. “Do not make me force you again.”

She stiffened at the implication of entrancing and clenched her teeth, picking up her spoon. She was on her fourth spoonful when she finally spotted them. All of their eyes were pinned on her, but it was Dex’s gaze she held. Concern filled his eyes, and his lips formed a thin line, but there was nothing to be done.

Not right now anyway.

A salad followed the soup, and then a main course of roasted lamb, potatoes, summer vegetables, and bread. Tessa picked at her food, only eating because of Theon’s threat, but he never said anything about it again. She could feel him watching her the entire time though, as if that wasn’t unnerving. A couple of the other heirs tried to engage him in conversation, but his answers were curt and short. They eventually gave up.

When it was announced there would be a short reprieve between the main course and dessert, Tessa made to move back from the table to go see Dex. A hand landed on the back of her chair before she’d moved it more than an inch.

“Where are you going, Tessa?” Theon asked, his voice low.

“To see my friends before dessert is served.”

“No.”

“But the deal was we would attend the feast, and I could see my friends,” she protested.

“I agreed to the feast. That was it,” Theon said, his features hardening. They were starting to draw attention from both the heirs and the Lords and Ladies.

“Th—” But his name got stuck on the tip of her tongue. Her eyes widened as a smirk spread across Theon’s face. This was a formal setting.

With no small amount of humiliation, she ground out from between clenched teeth, “Master, I would really like the opportunity to say goodbye to my friends since we will leave as soon as the feast concludes.”

“No,” he answered simply, sitting back in his chair and swirling his glass of whiskey.

“No? Just like that?”

Theon’s lips pressed together, darkness seeming to seep from his skin before it disappeared just as quickly. He took a drink from his glass before setting it down and leaning in close to speak into her ear once more. “I told you our negotiation was a one-time thing, Tessalyn. Now, I highly suggest you stop making a scene in front of everyone.” Tessa nodded once in understanding, but it wasn’t enough for him. “Verbal acknowledgment, Tessa.”

“I understand,” she gritted out.

“Good,” he said, leaning back and picking up his liquor once more, his legs spread wide in a purely arrogant male mannerism. Tessa leaned back in her own chair, crossing her arms. “Act properly, Tessa,” he murmured over his glass. “I will not have my Source seen pouting and sulking about.”

“Of course, Master,” she answered with faux sweetness, sitting up straight and crossing her legs, placing her hands in her lap.

Another small smile played at his lips, and she could swear a spark of amusement shone in his green eyes. Pieces of some kind of divine chocolate dessert she would have devoured an hour earlier were placed in front of them a few minutes later, but each bite tasted like ash on her tongue. After three bites, Tessa set her fork down, pushing her plate back.

“For someone who was starving, you did not eat much,” Theon said conversationally, spearing his last bite of dessert with his fork.

“I lost my appetite,” she bit back.

“It is probably for the best. You will not want a full stomach when you receive the first Mark.”

Her head snapped in his direction. “Why?”

Theon shrugged. “I am told receiving the Marks can be uncomfortable for the Source.”

What the fuck did that mean?

“If you are finished, we can call for a Priestess,” Theon continued, drinking the last of his liquor.

Panic roiled through her, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten much as a wave of nausea came over her. “I…”

---