Envy (The Damning Book 2)
Page 14
cloak of shadows as belonging to the Shadow King, and he stood directly
beside the Mage one.
Bash's father's eyes were heavily lidded, head lolling against his chest. He
looked as if he was seconds away from falling into a deep slumber.
I couldn't help but snort, a rather unlady-like sound, at the scandal that
would cause.
"So, Zara...I haven't seen you around." The lady who spoke had orange-
tinted hair cascading just to her waist. Her violet eyes indicated her to be a
Genie. She had introduced herself as Cassie, the daughter of one of the
nobles.
At my mates' urging, I had introduced myself as Zara. The world knew Z
as the assassin. It was for my own safety, and my mates', that I kept my true
identity as a secret. That wasn't to mean that the world wouldn't ever know -
nothing stayed a secret for long in this fucked up game of cat and mouse - but
it was vital that I didn't paint an even bigger target on my back.
For the time being, I was Zara, a rich heiress. The only people who knew
differently were the Kings, their sons, and Axel, the old assassin to the
kingdom.
"That's probably because I haven't been here before," I stated dryly.
Cassie pursed her lips further. At this point, I was afraid they'll get stuck in a
perpetual pout.
"I saw you dancing with Bash earlier," another female piped up. She had
the glacial beauty and features that could only be descended from a Vampire.
Her dark skin was unblemished, and her cheekbones looked as if they could
carve ice. She was beautiful, they all were, and I felt insignificant standing
beside them.
For only a brief moment.
Then, I remembered I could kill them in a variety of ways using only a
butter knife as a weapon. Any and all self-consciousness diminished at the
thought. Call me a masochist or a psychopath, but I felt myself preen at the
mere thought.
That preen turned into actual fantasies of murder when the Vampire
added, "He was a rather attentive lover. God, his cock was so long. And his
hands..."
The ladies erupted into damn titters as my breathing sawed in and out.
Out of my peripheral, I spotted Bash standing against the wall, his arms
crossed over his chest. He looked handsome, no surprise, with his blond hair
slicked back and his suit accentuating each and every muscle. I yearned to
memorize every inch of his body through feel alone. Every dip and crevice.
Every bone and muscle. Every hair.
I also knew, without a doubt in mind, that he wished to do the same to
me.
There were hundreds of beautiful women in the room, and nearly half of
them were vying for his attention, yet his eyes were only ever trained on me.
I watched, unbeknownst to him, as a simpering female put a hand on his arm
and batted her abnormally long lashes at him in what she probably thought
was a seductive manner. Before, he might've talked to her. Flirted. Flashed
her a sultry smile that would have any woman throwing their panties at him.
And then, he would've had no problem with taking her up to his room and
lavishing her with all of his attention. Come morning, he would forget her
name and dismiss her like yesterday's trash.
Now, Bash glared at the woman's offending hand, shrugging it off. She
pouted prettily, said something inaudible to me from where I stood, and he
responded with another incandescent glare. With what looked like a huff of
indignation, she stomped in the opposite direction.
Towards Killian.
I didn't even bother looking at my Incubus Prince. I knew that both he and
Lupe, who was standing beside him, would dismiss the female. It wasn't them
that I was worried about. It wasn't them that I was focused on in rapt interest.
I knew in my heart that Bash would never do anything to hurt me. He
may not have known it yet, but he was mine as surely as I was his. He may
fight it till the very end, but there was no faking it for me. I could see it in his
eyes when we danced.
With Bash...it was complicated. He was a sword that repeatedly
threatened to be rammed straight into my heart. He wanted to hurt me only
because he cared for me. A man like him wasn't used to having those types of
feelings, so he hid them away. Brick after brick, impenetrable wall after wall,
he hid himself from the world. Buried his head so far in the sand it was
impossible to reach him.
Until now.
I didn't have weapons, but what little I did have was forged from steel of
my own making. I was determined to break down his defenses as the other
princes' had done mine. Maybe, together, we could learn how to love.
I hated the direction of my thoughts. How cheesy they had become. How
cliché. If anyone was to hear me, they would think I was a hopeless romantic,
constantly sprouting sappy love poems.
Fucking Bash.
"Zara," Cassie asked coldly. "Are you listening?"
That was all said with feigned nicety. I had no doubt in my mind that she
would say one thing and then do the opposite. Two-faced bitch didn't even
begin to describe that woman.
"I'm sorry," I said, mimicking her tone. "I must've zoned out. What did
you say?"
I knew that I had infuriated her. It wasn't often, I imagined, that people
didn't listen to her. If she hadn’t had the signature violet eyes of a Genie, I
would've suspected her to be an Incubus. That term could be used
interchangeably with males and females, just as a Mermaid could be used for
both a man and a woman. And Cassie fitted the requirements of an Incubus to
a T.
"I was telling Odessa that I plan to...I suppose you could say seduce one
of the princes."
This time, I didn't see red. There was no jealousy in my heart, only grim
amusement. Taking another sip of my drink to hide my smile, I batted my
lashes innocently at the Genie female.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because The Matching was a fuck-up," Cassie retorted, as if it was
obvious. "They didn't find their mates, and all of their prospective wives
ended up dead.” This was said crassly, carelessly, with no respect at all given
to the innocent females who had died. Females who Cassie might’ve even
known and befriended. It made me hate the bitch more. “They're probably so
lonely, so sad, so scared. Especially since they haven't taken a lover in
months."
"Oh really?" I asked, quirking a brow. Cassie nodded seriously,
seemingly pleased that I was showing interest into what she deemed as
important.
"Really. Bash over there used to have a new girl - or two - every night.
Sometimes a man. He hasn't even looked at a female since the incident.
Rumor has it, Bash was in love with one of the contestants that had died and
now is unable to be with anyone else."
I nodded my head decisively, but my mind had latched onto the thought
of Bash with a man. Why did that thought make me feel so hot and bothered?
My nipples were beaded nubs, straining against my dress.
Clearing my throat, I nodded again. And again. I was practically a
bobblehead at t
his point.
"That's very strange," I agreed, but internally, I was squealing. I knew
Bash hadn't taken a lover in awhile, but hearing it confirmed made me warm
and tingly. He may have claimed that he hated me, but behind that hate was
desire too. Desire and kinship, two broken souls desperately reaching for one
another in the dissonant chaos that was our reality.
"And same with Lupe and Ryland. Not a lover in months," the Vampire,
Odessa, added.
"So which one will you try for?" I asked Cassie, just barely keeping my
laughter in check.
"Obviously Bash," she sneered. Giving me a dismissive once-over, she
nodded towards the far wall. "Go stand over there. I don't want to be seen
with a human. I don't think even Bash would stoop that low."
I bristled, hands clenching into fists, but flashed her a singularly beautiful
smile.
"You're right," I said softly. I wiped beneath my eyes with the pad of my
finger, sniffing. "None of the princes would ever look at a pathetic human
like me. I'm no one. Just a girl who happened to inherit a lot of money. Just a
girl who wants to support her kingdom."
Sniffle. Sniffle.
"I'll just hide my face in the corner of the room, away from sight. Bash
only danced with me because he pitied me. He doesn't care about me."
I turned away and marched towards the far corner of the ballroom. Only
when I was out of sight did I release a twinkling laugh.
Just who did that girl think she was?
Insulting me, when I had walked in on the arm of the Shifter King?
Wanting to seduce my mates?
She was going to get what was coming to her, and I would have a front
row seat to the show.
A masculine chuckle greeted me, warm breath coasting over my earlobe.
That breath was replaced by teeth nibbling lightly, and I gasped, goosebumps
erupting on my skin.
"If you choose to retire from killing people, you'll have a career in
acting," Ryland whispered, amusement ringing his voice.
I snorted. "I don't kill people. Well...I don't kill people who don't deserve
it."
I watched Cassie sashay up to where Bash was standing. He glanced over
at her with distaste before turning his attention once more towards where I
was standing.
"Do you want to get into an ethical discussion about killing?" Ryland
asked teasingly. "When is killing justified? Does war justify killing? Does
revenge?"
"Let's not," I suggested brightly, spinning in his direction. As always,
there was nothing but shadow, misting over the floor and vaguely resembling
the shape of a person. I reached a hand forward and was surprised when my
fingers touched solid flesh. For some inexplicable reason, I had assumed my
hand would seep right through. That touching Ryland in this form would be
like trying to touch gas.
His breath hitched, heart hammering.
"Why do you always hide?" I asked softly. My hand crept up his
shoulder, curving around the length of his neck. I knew his skin would be
dark, nearly as dark as the shadows themselves. It felt like silk beneath my
fingers, and I carefully moved my hand further up, until it reached his
jawline. "You don't have to hide from me, you know that right?"
"You saw my face," Ryland stated. There was no bitterness in his voice. It
was merely a recitation of the facts. "You saw what I look like."
"So why do you still hide?"
His body tensed beneath mine as I moved my hand even further up,
resting the tips of my fingers on his cheekbones. I paused there with bated
breath, searching his face. If he wanted me to stop, I would, but the
diminutive seed of trust growing between us would stop as well. Trust went
both ways, after all. He wanted me to trust him, and it was completely
rational of me to want the same in return.
I waited, heart beating against my ribcage, as he took a shuddering breath.
It fanned against my skin.
"I want..." he broke off suddenly. And then, louder, "What the hell is he
doing?"
I jumped. Out of everything he could've said, I hadn't expected it to be
that. I blinked up at him rapidly.
"What do you mean?"
He placed a shadowy hand on my shoulder and spun me around. The
move, so sudden, nearly propelled me off my feet, but I held firm.
"What the hell are you talking about, Ryland?" I hissed. Were the Kings
up to something? Were they finally moving the last pawn into place?
But he wasn't talking about the Kings.
No, he was talking about Bash, my Mage mate.
My mate who currently had his hand clasped with Cassie's as he led her
out of the ballroom.
SEVENTEEN
Z
The floor opened up and swallowed me.
I had once been pushed out a window by an enraged Shifter. This
feeling was somewhat similar. My stomach was bottomless, perverse
fear sinking its claws into my heart and refusing to release its grip.
Suddenly, the world didn’t make sense. It was just a blur of faces and
names, of species and genders, of good and bad. The facets of nature, of
mankind, blurred together until everything was indecipherable. I could barely
breathe, barely think, barely hear anything over the sound of my heart
beating.
Breaking.
I think the asshole just broke my heart.
My chest grew as taut as the strings on a violin.
“What the fuck is he thinking?” Ryland muttered irately.
All I could do was stare at the door they had disappeared through. Stare.
As if that would somehow compel them to come back.
My hands were shaking, horror and rage the predominant emotions. They
settled heavily in my stomach, curdling like a spoiled cheese.
The silence stretched until it became almost unbearable. Ryland’s eyes
remained on me - even through the shadowy cloak, I could feel their gentle
caress.
“It doesn’t matter.” My voice was soft, devoid of emotion. “He can do
what he wants.”
“Z...it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Do you know for sure?” I spun around to face him, hands clenching into
fists. “You’re with me, not them. How do you know? How do you fucking
know?” A humorless laugh escaped me followed immediately by a snort. “I
wonder how she will react when she discovers he can’t get hard.”
“I think you’re blowing things out of proportion,” he cajoled soothingly.
The shadows moved as he stepped closer, hand extending as if he meant to
put it on my shoulder and comfort me.
I took an automatic step backwards, bristling. I imagined that if I was a
cat my fur would be standing on end, and I would be hissing. My emotions
were running rampant within me, a hurricane that threatened to flood my
mind. I tried to calm them, tried to reel them in, but they assaulted me
repeatedly.
“Says the coward who hides his face,” I spat and then immediately
regretted it. “Ryland...”
But he was already gone. The shadows had diminished as if a giant
spotlight had come, effectively eliminating them. I was now alone.
Alone.
&nb
sp; Alone.
That thought echoed in my head.
Before I could second guess myself, I walked briskly to the back door. It
led to a magnificent garden, currently sheathed in moonlight. I could distantly
decipher the shape of a marble fountain, emitting a soft blue glow. Whether
that was from a spell or electricity I couldn’t decide.
A few people gave me strange looks as I stepped outside, but not any of
those people were my mates.
I imagined they would be furious with me, but at that moment, I didn’t
care. I didn’t care about anything.
My rage had ebbed leaving behind an icy numbness. It sprang from the
tips of my fingers, up my neck, and then down my body. Encasing me in a
slate of ice.
Suffocating me.
The air was crisp, a slight wind blowing my hair back. It smelled like
scented pine, despite the fact that there was no pine tree in sight. A facet of
magic, I imagined.
Steps brisk, I walked further into the garden.
A stone statue caught my attention. The artist had outdone himself. Each
detail was intricate, carved with precision. It was a man dressed in finery,
mouth opened in a scream. The artist had captured the horror emanating from
his eyes.
Rubbing my hand over the statue’s cold shoulders, I thought back to what
I had seen.
Bash’s treachery was still too raw, a wound that hadn’t quite scabbed yet.
The child in me, the insecure girl, wanted to pick repeatedly at the skin until
it bled.
Why had he done it? I had thought - perhaps misguidedly - that we were
making headway. When we had danced, he hadn’t been looking at me like
the enemy. He hadn’t looked at me as if he hated me.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I should’ve listened to myself the first time. I should’ve listened to the
warning voice in my head steering me away from these seven deadly men.
And because of my own stupidity, my heart had broken.
I had offered it up to him, and he had watched it crumble. I had no one to
blame but myself.
Never again, I vowed, pulling up my dress and grabbing the diamond
encrusted dagger. A gift from Devlin.
Spinning it in my hand, I finally released the scream I’d been holding in.
The dagger flew from my hand, flying through the air and bouncing off
another statue a few feet away.
Why hadn’t my mates followed me into the garden?