Page 46 of A Story of Sinners

Or at least, that’s what the boy would have liked for me to believe. He’d excused the day’s proceedings, only to hold yet another clandestine meeting beneath the catapults of that old, strange building.

The one that had once belonged to my people.

My creatures sat with me, a stream of mental discussion passing between us.I’m hungry. We’re all hungry.Balaam slithered into my head.These humans look tasty. We only need one to share between us all.His dark eyes glided to the leader, who had been speaking at the sanctum when we’d entered—Lord Henshall, I believe.That one looks like a tasty little morsel. No one would notice if he went missing.

I looked to Balaam as Dagon and Toth nodded their head, their forked tongues slipping between sharp teeth as they stared at the man with desire. Their tattered wings flexed as they prepared for the hunt, one that would never occur.

I rolled my eyes.Everyone would notice if he went missing.Especially that boy, Brandon, who followed Duana around like a puppy. The last thing I needed was for her to be angry that my subjects had eaten her friend’s lover.Those in attendance are off limits. Remember the established hunting grounds, and don’t you dare suggest eating one of them again.

My creatures went silent at the command. We’d claimed the forest south of here as our hunting grounds, and the King of Cambriel had taken note, swiftly halting his expeditions. My creatures were growing starved, desperate for sustenance, but it was nothing a quick trip to the Otherworld wouldn’t solve. I could release them for the night to hunt the smaller creatures on the other side.

For now, they needed to play nice. I couldn’t afford any hitches in my plan, not when it had already been so drastically altered.

Speak of the devil.

I tuned my creatures out as he entered the hall, flanked by the orange haired fae male who could turn to a dragon, the witch who commanded him, her aide, and that little girl—the one who held my seeing ability, albeit a different version, one that didn’t seem to be blinded by the male at the head of the pack.

I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head. She was a curious little thing—ancient in form, yet juvenile mentally, all seeing yet inexperienced on how to use the ability. The only guiding hand she had was the witch Eulalia, a woman who seemed to be barely hanging on by a thread.

I wondered how hard it would be to manipulate the child into telling me what I needed to know. It would require skill and deceptive tactics—my forte—but I would also have to get rid of the witches, slay the dragon, and tear out the king’s throat in the process.

I sighed and shoved the idea from my head. Duana would be infuriated if I touched a single hair on any of their heads, and I couldn’t have that fury directed at me, at least not yet. Not until she realized that everything I had ever done was for her, that nobody would ever love her as much as I did.

So, I directed all my focus towards my adversary—the one leading a double life—and plotted.

He was an attractive male by this world’s standards, tall and broad, with silver locks and markings that stood out against bronze skin, but so was I. In the Otherworld, I’d been considered a bit of an ugly duckling, human in appearance with blue irises, but as time passed, my looks had become more acceptable even there. My horns had grown, curling at the top of my head, and my wings had become larger, stronger than others.

In this world, I would be considered beautiful, terrifyingly so. I would go so far as to call myself the fae king’s counterpart in beauty, as well as Duana’s.

It was clear why she liked him, but I had all that he had and more. There would be no challenge by the time I finished with this world.

The male in question took a sip of his wine as his friends chattered with each other over their meals. As if he could sense my glare boring into him, he lifted his silver eyes and met my blue ones. Even from clear across the room, I could scent my Duana on him. My light.

My fists clenched in my lap, and a mocking smirk stretched across his face. He looked away, turning to the dragon and resuming conversation.

Son of a bitch. I knew why he smelled so strongly of her. I knew why he looked so smug. It was because he’d gotten to deliver my birthday present. He was the one to take her when she needed it most. My chest rattled with fury, and all eyes whipped in my direction, widening with fear.

I cut off my rattle and clenched my jaw. This absolute waste of space was goading me, and I wouldn’t allow it. Sniffing the air once more, I smelled her…but also…something different, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on—a change of scent that wasn’t there the other day. It smelled of… lack.

I narrowed my senses to him. Testing. Feeling. Tasting.

There it was.

The bond.

The broken bond.

Dark laughter sounded around the room, originating from me, and the male lifted his eyes, meeting mine. All the confidence in his smirk, all the arrogance in his stare, slowly dissipated to nothing. His eyes shuttered as realization slowly dawned on him, and his pride transformed into pure panic.

I rose from my chair, my destination clear.

Something I hadn’t expected finally happened. I’d been surprised yet again, this time pleasantly so.

My sweet little light had been rejected.

Chapter20

Dahlia

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