Page 35 of A Court of Ravens
“No,” I admit, sinking onto the nearest chair. “And I won’t. Not yet.”
“You know you have to tell her.”
I nod. Felicity deserves to know what she’s stepping into. But how do I explain that she might be the reason the Veil is thinning? That her very existence could tip the scales of our world?
“Think she’ll run?” I ask, swirling the whiskey in the bottle before taking another pull.
Tomas leans back in his chair, twirling his knife like a fidget toy. “Probably. But if she’s still standing after everything you’ve thrown at her, she might surprise you. Or stab you.”
“Comforting,” I mutter.
Tomas snorts, eyes narrowing like he’s looking straight through me. “Oh, spare me the shite. You think I wouldn’t notice the fresh magic stitched into your skin? The Gloaming doesn’t let me ignore what I’m sworn to protect, and right now, it’s screaming her name. Glamour or not, even a blind, halfwit drunk could see you’re bound to her. Fuck, the way you look at her, I’m surprised you ain’t already on your knees, worshipping the ground she walks on like some lovesick cunt.”
I grunt, the whiskey burning down my throat. “Fuck off. I just don’t want to cock it up. So if you’re done taking the piss, you could be useful and tell me how I don’t fuck this up. Any pointers, oh wise and jaded one?”
“Not a bloody one,” Tomas says with a smug and useless shrug.
“That’s what I need to hear before tonight’s ‘date.’”
He pauses mid-twirl, an eyebrow creeping up. “A human date?”
“Is there another kind?”
His laugh is a rough bark. “Fascinating.”
“You’re a bastard. You didn’t have to jump through hoops with your bond because she was bloody gift-wrapped for you.”
Tomas flashes a wolfish grin, all teeth and no sympathy. “Aye, and she was a vision. Ready and waiting.”
“Must be nice.” I stand and pace the room, the stone floors unforgiving underfoot. “All you had to do was stand for the ceremony and claim her.”
Meanwhile, I’m juggling mortal expectations and a bond that could destroy worlds, but I keep that last bit to myself.
“Boo-fucking-hoo,” Tomas says, examining the blade of his knife. “It’s dinner. Don’t be such a whiny cunt.”
I stop pacing and glare at him. “It’s notjustdinner. I have to tell her the truth.”
“Oh, aye, that you trot around on four legs sometimes?”
Or that bonding with me could kick-start the apocalypse?I think as I stare into the fire.
He arches a brow. “Sure, lead with that. It’s a real panty-dropper.”
“I hate you,” I mutter, taking another swig of whiskey.
Tomas smirks. “You love me.”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Nope.”
I plop back onto the chair opposite him, the firelight casting flickering shadows between us. “So, what do humans evendoon dates?”
His grin widens, a feral thing that makes me regret asking. “Apparently, you bring flowers.”
I arch a brow. “And how wouldyouknow?”
“I consulted the Internet on human courting rituals when our king decided to throw down the gauntlet on you bonding with an Ironlands lass.” He flips the knife once more, then stabs it into the table with a dullthunk. “So give her some overpriced bouquet that does fuck all. Fucking waste if you ask me, but be done with it.”
