The Bound Page 16

  They all needed to be seen by someone, so it could be confirmed that they were all in attendance. Keeping up appearances for the evening was the only way they could get around the fact that Orden was to enter with the King, and it would be suspicious if they all left before the ball rather than slip away during the festivities.

  Avoca just needed to wait for Ahlvie to get here, so he could escort her inside. She wished that she had been able to see Cyrene before leaving, but she had sworn she just needed one more thing from the seamstress before running off.

  She tried not to worry about Cyrene. She could take care of herself until Avoca had her in her sights.

  “Ready, my lady?” a voice whispered in her ear from behind.

  Avoca twisted in her many layers and cursed Cyrene for suggesting the thing. It was a forest-green gown with lace cap sleeves and jewels that shimmered through the rest of the dress. It was the most exquisite thing she had ever put on her body, and she felt completely ridiculous. In Eldora, she wore practical clothing while working and loose dresses that were easily maneuverable otherwise. But she couldn’t deny that she liked the appreciative look Ahlvie gave her when she faced him.

  “You look stunning.”

  “Thank you.” She let a small smile appear on her face at his attention.

  “Shall we?” He offered his arm, and she placed her hand on his expensive black coat.

  “Are you certain you won’t be noticed?” Avoca asked him once more.

  “Kael is the only one who would know me. Unless there are Byern Royal Guard posted inside that room, which we know there aren’t, then we should be fine so long as Ceis’f keeps tabs on Kael.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. She was just worried. So much of this was out of her control.

  “Plus, I have this handy thing to use as soon as the King and Queen make their entrance.” He held up the black mask in his hand.

  “I still don’t understand how Cyrene got Jesalyn to agree to make the ball a masque,” she said as they entered the ballroom.

  “She has a way of getting what she wants,” Ahlvie said.

  “You mean, she’s stubborn?”

  Ahlvie kept them to the edge of the room. They passed dozens of people dressed in the Queen’s extravagant style and the King’s style of long black coats and white lace cravats over top starched shirts. The room was decorated in the deep reds and blues of the Aurum.

  “Is stubborn the best word for her?” Ahlvie asked.

  “Headstrong, single-minded, relentless.”

  “I wasn’t going to say it.”

  Avoca laughed lightly. “She’s a challenge.”

  “A bit scary actually but loyal,” Ahlvie said. “She uses the same tenacity to get what she wants in her friendships as well.”

  Avoca nodded. “In those moments, you’d never guess she was so young.”

  “She’s only a few years younger than me,” he said defensively. “She can’t be much younger than you. You don’t look a day over seventeen.”

  “Oh,” Avoca said, glancing away. She sometimes forgot how young all the humans were. She was young for a Leif but hardly young when compared to Cyrene or Ahlvie, who had human lifelines. “Of course.” She retrieved her hand from him and stopped. “I think this will do.”

  She turned away from him before she could see the hurt and confusion that was sure to bloom on his face. She wasn’t prepared to tell anyone else about Leifs and her age.

  From her position, she could see the entire ballroom laid out before her. If there were any mischief, then she would root it out.

  “Should I stake out the room from another angle?” Ahlvie asked, taking a step away from her.

  Avoca touched his arm. “No. Stay.” Their eyes met, and she tried to remain still, as if she didn’t know what her words meant. “The King and Queen will be here any second.”

  That same flippant attitude that he wore like a shield fell back into place as he stepped into her side. “If you wanted me close, you just had to ask,” he said. Then, he winked.

  Avoca pursed her lips to keep from smiling and let her eyes wander around the room. She saw Maelia in position with a group of ladies-in-waiting. And she found Ceis’f staring directly at her—specifically where her hand rested on Ahlvie’s arm. She flinched away from the penetrating gaze. Only Ceis’f could make her do that. The weight of that gaze bore down on her like a brick. She was the Crown Princess of Eldora, destined to rule. Then, how come I can’t stomach the thought of returning and taking up my destiny?

  She shook the thoughts away and focused on what was ahead.

  Avoca saw Cyrene slip into the room through the back door and tried not to smile. She stuck out like a sore thumb, even when she was trying to blend in. There was just something utterly compelling about her. But at least everyone was where they were supposed to be. Orden would enter with the King and Queen and then they could finally leave.

  Ahlvie drew her a little closer and her heart accelerated.

  “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

  She met his gaze. “Now?”

  “Just for a moment. We won’t be missed.”

  She opened her mouth to object but then nodded. She was too curious to know what he wanted to say. Just as the King and Queen were announced, he escorted her through the crowd and out the back steps into the gardens.

  She suspected she knew what this was all about, but she was going along with it anyway. It was so unlike her. She wasn’t afraid of confrontation. With one look, she could stop a man in his tracks and kill him even faster with any number of weapons. Yet here she was.

  Perhaps taking her out of Eldora had made her more…human.

  Ceis’f would think that was a terrible thing. Emotions clouded judgment. With so many years behind her and many more ahead of her, it wasn’t smart to get attached to humanity. Time would pass, seasons would change, and she would still remain. But, without emotions and feelings, is there much left to live for?

  Maybe she had even chosen to work in the military with a six team because it was one of the few occupations that made her feel alive.

  “Avoca?” Ahlvie whispered.

  “Yes? I apologize. My thoughts were elsewhere.”

  “Did I offend you in some way?”

  “Offend me? No. No, of course not.”

  “Of course not?” Ahlvie asked skeptically. He shot her a lazy smile. “Have you met me? I’m entirely offensive.”

  She let loose a laugh and then quickly smothered it. Few people could make her laugh so easily. “You try.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Hide your smile.” He brushed a loose lock of blonde hair out of her face.

  Avoca pulled away from his touch. “I don’t.”

  “You’re doing it right now.”

  “I…”

  “You’ve done it every day since I met you when you busted down the door to my room and knocked out four guards.” He stepped forward again. “You’re a warrior, fierce and proud. I get it. But when you smile—”

  “Stop,” she commanded.

  Ahlvie didn’t even react. He just smiled that easy smile he always seemed to have on his face. “Can I continue now?” he teased.

  “No.”

  “I didn’t realize that I needed your permission to tell you how strong you are or how brave”—he leaned forward until he was mere inches away from her—“or how beautiful.”

  This needed to stop. She couldn’t give him hope where there was none. Even if she continued on with this mission, her duty was to Eldora.

  In a split second, she had her icy-white knife out of its sheath, hidden away in the confines of her dress. She flipped it in the palm of her hand and then pressed it against Ahlvie’s neck.

  “You have misread the signs and seek to take that which I cannot provide.” Energy poured into her veins at the feel of the knife hilt in her hand, and her body hummed to life.

  Ahlvie laughed.
The man actually laughed at her. “Oh, Avoca,” he whispered affectionately. “I expected nothing less.”

  What she hadn’t expected was for him to knock her elbow back. Her hand flew up to stop him, but he blocked her and then wrenched her hand with the knife backward until her fingers released it. Then, he swung her around, roughly pressed her back against his chest, and brought the knife up to her neck.

  “I didn’t know that you preferred deadly foreplay.”

  Avoca’s breath came out in spurts, and her mind was full of the adrenaline of the fight. Ahlvie’s body was on fire, and she felt the heat rolling off of him. And she just stood there, flush against his chest.

  He had disarmed her. She couldn’t fathom it. How did I underestimate him so completely?

  “Tell me I’m not a fool,” he whispered. His breath was hot on her neck before his lips found the tender skin. His grip loosened on the knife at her neck, but he just pulled her tighter against him.

  “You are a fool, Ahlvie.” But she didn’t have the conviction she had felt earlier.

  She let herself get lost in him, closing her eyes and tilting her head back onto his shoulder. It wouldn’t ruin everything to feel something other than duty.

  And then she felt Ahlvie being jerked away from her. She turned just in time to see Ceis’f throw a wickedly fast punch directly at Ahlvie’s face. Somehow, Ahlvie ducked the punch and barreled forward into Ceis’f’s midsection, tackling him to the ground. Ahlvie tried to subdue Ceis’f, but Ceis’f was already lashing out at him.

  Ceis’f landed an elbow to the temple, and Ahlvie fell off of him. He rolled on the ground and then landed back on his feet.

  “What is wrong with you?” Ahlvie cried.

  “Did you think I’d let you near her?” Ceis’f growled.

  Avoca groaned and forced herself between them before they could launch at each other again. “That’s enough. You both know I am perfectly capable of knocking you out…even in this dress.”

  “What were you doing with him, Ava?” Ceis’f demanded.

  “We were talking.”

  “That did not look like talking. He was kissing you.”

  “She’s not even interested in you,” Ahlvie shot back. “You suffocate her. She can’t even look at you.”

  “Ahlvie!” Avoca snapped.

  “You think she’s not interested in me?” Ceis’f asked, shaking his head. “You think you can take what is mine?”

  “You think she belongs to you?” Ahlvie scoffed. “She’s not an object, something that can be in your possession. She’s a woman with her own thoughts and needs.”

  “She doesn’t belong to me. She is mine.”

  Ahlvie raised his eyebrows and cracked a mocking smile. “Yours? She doesn’t even act like she likes you…let alone loves you.”

  Ceis’f’s eyes shot to Avoca. “He doesn’t know?”

  “Ceis’f, no,” Avoca whispered.

  “Know what?” Ahlvie asked.

  Ceis’f took a step back, as if he saw where he could win and was taking it. “We are betrothed.”

  “Betrothed,” Ahlvie responded hollowly.

  “Avoca is the Princess of her people, and I am the last remaining Prince of mine. We have been meant for each other our whole lives and will be married as soon as she comes of age. No matter what you do, she will never be yours,” Ceis’f said, hammering the last nail in the coffin.

  “Ahlvie,” Avoca said softly.

  He raised his hand and refused to meet her eyes. She could see the easygoing guy who had intrigued her and made her laugh so effortlessly draining out of him.

  “I understand now. If you’ll excuse me,” Ahlvie said before turning and walking deeper into the gardens.

  Avoca whirled on Ceis’f and slapped him across the face. The sound cracked through the silent night air.

  Ceis’f reached out and grasped her wrist in his hand. “What is wrong with you?”

  “You have worn out your welcome,” Avoca spat at him.

  He pulled her toward him and bared his teeth. “We’re going home, Avoca.”

  “Good! Leave, Ceis’f! I did not want you to follow me from Eldora, and I do not need you here now.”

  “You need me now more than ever. I thought you were a leader, the future Queen. If your mother saw how you were acting now…”

  “My mother?” she asked in a deadly quiet voice. “My mother would be ashamed that her future son would think so little of her daughter that he had to babysit her while she was away from home.”

  “Do you not see—”

  “No, you don’t,” she hissed. She yanked him forward at the last second, twisted so that she brought his hand up to her shoulder, and then reached with her other arm to grab his neck and throw him onto his back at her feet.

  “You don’t see anything. You don’t see why I’m here or what the purpose is in any of this. You would have had me shamed before my own people for my disgrace in allowing six of my team to die in an Indres attack,” she told him, leaning over his body. Her eyes were blazing bright, and Ceis’f didn’t move at her words. “You see only what you want to see and believe in nothing else. Your parents were killed. Your village was burned. That was twenty years ago. The wounds do not have to heal, but you cannot continue to blame every human for the actions of a few.”

  Ceis’f rolled to his feet and stood before her, but she continued speaking, almost as if he weren’t there anymore, “We have found the first Doma in two thousand years. Do you know what that means for the world? She could fulfill the Circadian Prophecy and restore order to a world devoid of it. We could be welcomed in the Nit Decus castle once more. We could make a difference rather than hide in the trees for the rest of eternity. We were once esteemed counselors and allies. I want that again, Ceis’f, even if you do not. It is an admirable goal to strive for.”

  “And what of your blood debt?” he asked hoarsely.

  “I will happily die for Cyrene to see this come to fruition. If only you were so selfless, Ceis’f.”

  Ahlvie disappeared into the gardens. It was a maze he realized. Perfect. He would be happy to be lost tonight.

  He already felt it.

  He was a fool. Truly this time.

  He’d always played the fool. Being quick-witted, a jokester, a drunk, and a scoundrel among other less favorable things had always done him good. He’d never been in a situation where his humor and ridiculous behavior hadn’t helped him through it.

  He was way into enemy territory. Nearly as far away as possible from the assignment he had been on back in Fen. But it was all to the right end. He knew where he fit into all of this. It all made sense at least. He’d known since he was thirteen where he fit in with it all.

  And then Avoca had crashed into his life.

  She was a game changer.

  “Creator,” he whispered into the stillness. “Betrothed and a princess at that.”

  He hadn’t seen that coming. He’d known that there was something between she and Ceis’f. Cyrene had said as much. But he’d mostly assumed that Ceis’f was obsessed with Avoca. He hadn’t known the whole story. Cyrene had warned him on their way from Strat. He should have listened. He never followed orders, but he probably should have for this one.

  How can I compete with a betrothal to a prince?

  “No clue,” he murmured to himself as he walked farther and farther into the maze of gardens.

  He heard the crack of a twig behind him.

  He whirled around. “Who’s there?”

  There was no answer.

  “Avoca?” he said. “Miss me?”

  He couldn’t help it. The witty tone effortlessly fell off his tongue as he shifted back into his role. At the same time, he slid the blades out of their sheathes at his wrists and toed the ones in his boots.

  It smelled like trouble. He could sense someone stalking him. He must have really been lost in thought if he hadn’t noticed it earlier. He was usually more perceptive than that.

  If it ha
d been Avoca, she would have already called out to him. That meant it was an unfriendly intruder. He was prepared for it. As prepared as he could be for an unseen attacker.

  That was when it hit him.

  Square in the chest.

  All the air rushed out of his lungs as a beast knocked him off his feet. Ahlvie rolled and flipped back onto his feet as it lunged at him again. He was wide-eyed and ready when it came for him again.

  He realized it for what it was this time. An Indres.

  He would have been glad had he seen the last of those things in the woods the night before he had been captured and dragged to Strat. It seemed his luck had run out.

  The small blades in his hands wouldn’t do much against the massive creature.

  It stood on all fours, glaring at him with bright golden eyes. It came up to Ahlvie’s chest, and saliva was dripping from its fangs.

  “You’re one ugly wolf,” he grunted.

  As if the Indres could hear him, it tilted its head in offense and then rushed toward Ahlvie. He held his blades at the ready. He wished he’d had a sword on him, but he wouldn’t have been able to easily conceal a giant sword that could slay a creature of the dark. He was gifted with knives but not like a sword.

  Ahlvie cut at the beast, inch by inch, as it tried to bring him down. The beast was oozing rivers of thick black blood from its many wounds. Its massive fangs jutted out of its mouth, and it seemed to be trying to find a way to get past his blades and to its target.

  They circled each other like fighters in a ring.

  Ahlvie wondered dimly where the rest of the pack was but thanked the Creator that he didn’t have to deal with them. This one seemed to be the Alpha. He didn’t need the pack to protect him. Wherever he had come from, his objective seemed to be to kill.

  When the beast lunged once more, Ahlvie twisted and slashed a dagger across the beast’s throat. It reached out, snarled, and scraped its razor-sharp claws across the front of Ahlvie’s jacket. They both fell to the ground.

  Ahlvie rolled, gasping for breath.

  The front of his jacket was shredded, and he pulled his arms out of the sleeves, discarding the ruined material on the floor.

  “I liked that jacket,” he spat.