Page 29 of A Story of Sinners

He’d clearly concluded how I’d discovered the cuffs.

I arched my brow and stared him down, silently inferring that, yes, I did discover the cuffs inthatway. He needed to know that no matter how much he strived to control my mate, it would never work. He could throw her in the dungeon. He could chain her up in a room and toss away the key. If one thing was certain, it was that my little crow would always find a way to slip into some form of trouble.

I smirked when his face dropped, when he realized the full extent of what we did right beneath his nose, despite his efforts to have guards watch over her every move.

“We can discuss specifics in private,” Aiden said, clearly not prepared to explain to the visiting nations why his mistress bore rune cuffs.

I cocked my head and pushed the subject. “I don’t see why these matters can’t be discussed in front of those in attendance.”

Aiden lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at Dahlia. “If you want her, then we will discuss terms in private. There’s no other option. I will also need to speak with Dahlia in private, to see how she feels regarding your request.”

My fists clenched as he mentioned conferring with Dahlia in private, but despite the boiling of my blood, I remained diplomatic. Everything I claimed to do if he didn’t turn her over to my possession had been a ruse. I couldn’t steal her away, nor could I offer each nation shelter. Faerie was no safer than the rest, and starting a war with Cambriel would consume too many resources—resources that may be needed to fight against the Otherworld.

Besides, mortals would not fare well in my kingdom.

“Fine. Discuss whatever you must, and then we will negotiate.” I collapsed against my chair, finished with the day’s proceedings.

Aiden scowled; his skin flushed as sweat dripped down his temple. He was frazzled, just where I wanted him. He cleared his throat and retreated to the throne, and Dahlia’s eyes remained glued to the floor as Aiden rejoined her. “Lord Henshall, would you like to proceed?”

Lord Henshall, a seemingly good-natured man, rose from his seat and approached the podium. “Well, how do I follow that?” he jested. Titters sounded throughout the room.

Then, the atmosphere shifted as the scent of fire and brimstone permeated the air.

Eyes darted about the room, its occupants unknowingly feeling a vibration, a slight shifting in the air that was nearly unnoticeable. I knew that vibration. It was the vibration of fear, the one Kieran possessed, the same vibration I also held a small fraction of.

Screams sounded outside the auditorium’s wooden doors.

Fear shot down the bond—Dahlia’s fear, so thick I could taste it. My head whipped in her direction, finding her eyes widened and her face paled. A small, imperceptible tremble vibrated up her hands and through her arms.

The guards at the entrance tensed and reached for their weapons, prepared to face whatever came next, but when dark shadows tinted with maroon filtered in through the cracks of the door, they froze, unable to fight something that what wasn’t flesh and blood.

Magic, dark and eerie, flooded into the room. There was no question where this brand of magic originated—a creature of the Otherworld. My body stilled as I called to the magic inside me, warm liquid silver flooding through my blood and forming sparks and flame in my hand.

Magic could only be fought with magic, and my mate was powerless with the rune cuffs twined around her wrists.

I looked to Eulalia, expecting to hear her muttering spells beneath her breath, but she sat still as a statue, her eyes reflecting a sort of reluctant acceptance. She knew what was coming and had expected it, likely forewarned by the little seer. She hadn’t bother to mention or forewarn me or her mate.

Fin’s brows crinkled as he lifted from his chair, preparing to shift, but his motions halted when he noticed his mate doingnothing. “Eulalia,” he said. “What is it?”

A pained expression flittered across her face. “This must happen.”

Silver sparks crackled around my body as fire took form in my hands, a bolt of silver lightning cracking through the room, wind blowing around and scattering papers about.

Eulalia gripped my elbow. “No. Your involvement will only cause destruction. There are things you do not know, Ryken.”

I tilted my head at her, attempting to understand her motivation as the shadows crawled along the floor, targeting each armed individual in the room. The shadows slithered around their bodies and twined about their necks, snapping them with a loud crack.

I tore my elbow from Eulalia’s grip and levelled her with a glare. She had some explaining to do. This level of secrecy was unacceptable.

“Sit down, Ryken,” she ordered, and I laughed. She was mad to think I would let the shadows claw any closer to my terrified crow.

When I glanced at Dahlia, though, she was no longer in her seat. She was standing in front of Brandon—the only armed male left alive in the auditorium. Her eyes were hard with determination as she stood there, spine straight, blocking Brandon’s body from the prying tendrils of smoke.

The shadows seemed to halt in her presence, tearing off like limbs to teasingly poke and prod around her. One shadowy tendril snuck beside her head, but she smacked it away. Honest to goodness, she smacked it away as if it were a misbehaving child.

“What the hell?” I turned to Eulalia.

She breathed a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry, but it must be this way. It’s already set in motion.”

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