Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
He pulls me out of Anatole’s embrace, but instead of leading me somewhere we could talk, he goes straight for his cousin and slams his fist into his pale face.
The music dies, replaced by surprised gasps and, all of a sudden, the party is over.
Chapter 39
Kyran
Rage fills every inch of my body and cuts through my mind like a blade, severing rational thoughts and leaving me in a state of unguarded fury. I was annoyed when Anatole brought Luke onto the floor, but seeing him taste my mate’s skin and watching Luke stiffen in response made me go to war.
How dare Anatole provoke me like this?
Pulling Luke away would have been a slight. I crossed the line with the punch, but how am I expected to control myself when this meddler, this man who’s only alive because I could not prove his part in the assassination attempt, is infecting my beloved with his touch?
I’d rather walk all the way to the capital barefoot than let him be in the same room as Luke ever again.
Anatole stumbles away and falls into two dancing women, who yelp but manage to keep him upright as the music breaks off without warning, and all the guests retreat, as if they feared I might strike them next.
“You animal!” Anatole yells, his lip curling as he wipes blood from under his nose.
Luke takes a few steps my way as the whispers rise into a murmur, and I reach back, finding his hand. I’m not used to this kind of confrontation. Quiet kills? Yes. This? Why can’t I cut off Anatole’s nose, banish him, and be done with it?
“You should have kept your lips away from my promised!” I cut in, even louder, and the tone of the whispers alters as the figures around us blur, just shadows at the edge of my vision.
“We were merely dancing,” Anatole scoffs, but it’s for the public’s benefit, because Luke shakes his head at me with a scowl.
“And that was too much already if you can’t keep your hands and tongue where they ought to be.”
Luke clears his throat and squeezes my hand, but the rage inside is like a winter storm, cold and savage. “It was extremely inappropriate.”
I want Anatole to never as much as look at my lover again.
Tristan clears his throat, pushing through the crowd with a tense smile. I cannot avoid the looks of disgust thrown my way when my gaze seeks him out, but what was I expected to do? Stay courteous and explain to my promised why I’m not allowed to protect him from a pervert?
Kyranis would have, but I’m not him. I don’t deliver blows with smug words but with my fists, and I need Luke to know that I will always stand by him and never sacrifice his wellbeing for manners.
“You’re to stay away from him for the next century,” I roar with my gaze pinned to Anatole. “If he enters a room, you leave it. If he is spoken about, you stay silent. If you hear he was eating stew, you don’t have it for a week, so you don’t even touch the same soup! Is that understood?”
Anatole pouts, eyeing me with reptile eyes. “Challenge accepted,” he says and pats his rapier. “And if you lose, you will give him to me for a night.”
I… what?
“Spit that out, you worm,” I growl and take a step closer, but he pulls his blade halfway out, sending the courtiers farther away. I hear chuckles, excited whispers, as if no one at all is on my side in this conflict, when this man, this pathetic pervert doesn’t deserve the honor of being cut down with the Gloomdancer.
It’s like reliving the experience with my brother all over again. Anatole isn’t interested in men either, yet he’d take Luke just to spite me.
“I’m not anyone’s property, to be ‘given’!” Luke says, shaking his head, and the silver antennae attached to his tiara tremble. He’s so perfect today, and this maggot is spoiling his experience of the wedding ball.
Anatole shrugs. “Oh really? Prince Kyranis will own you after the bond is sealed. He can do with you as he pleases, and you will have no choice in the matter.”
I can barely see straight, but I restrain my anger, for Luke. “I would never force my Dark Companion into anything he doesn’t want. Don’t measure me the same way you measure yourself!”
“Oh, please. We all know how your father treated his Companion after the Lordess’s death.” When Anatole focuses on Luke, I want to gouge his eyes out just so he never does that again. “That poor man had bruises for years.”
Truths twisted to serve Anatole’s purpose. Yes, my father argued with James often, but he didn’t abuse him.
“Prince Kyranis is not his father,” Luke says through gritted teeth. By this point we are a spectacle, but I don’t even care. “I could even leave this Realm after the wedding if I wish to.”