Page 107 of Throne of Ice and Blood
“Did you miss it?”
“Yes.” He studies me intently as I close the distance between us. “You’re… different. These past few days, it feels as if you’ve gotten your spark back.”
That’s because I have. After my conversation with Isera and Alistair, I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It didn’t solve the problem that my connection with Draven is probably only a result of the mate bond, but it at least made me decide that it’s time to stop feeling so guilty about what I have to do. I have to help the humans pull off this heist and I have to make Frostfell rebel so that I can launch a revolution that will finally free the Seelie Court. No matter the consequences.
And just deciding that has given me back the power that I have been handing over to other people all my life just because I have let their opinions of me determine how I feel about myself. But now that I have decided to just take what I want for once, and to hell with everyone else, I feel better. Stronger. More in control.
But I can’t tell Draven that, of course, so I just flash him a teasing smile. “Just wait until I use that spark to burn down this room around your head.”
A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come try it, little rebel.”
I shoot him a grin full of challenge as I saunter past him towards the door.
But before I can take so much as a step past him, his hand shoots out and he grabs my arm. Keeping my upper arm in a firm grip, he arches an eyebrow at me. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To change into that damn silver ballgown I always have to wear.”
“No. Not tonight.” Releasing my arm, he strides over to his closet and yanks open the door. “Tonight, you’re wearing this.”
My heart skips a beat as he pulls out a stunning black dress with golden details. Drawing in an unsteady breath, I flick my gaze between the breathtaking dress and the satisfied smile on Draven’s face.
“It’s black,” I state, remembering what he told me about why the Icehearts always insist that we fae wear silver.
Still only wearing that low slung towel, he walks back across the floor and holds out the dress to me. “Yes, it is.”
My heart pounds as I take it. “Won’t they get angry?”
“Let them.” He slides his hand up my throat. With a possessive grip, he tilts my head back and then leans down so that his lips almost brush mine. “You are mine. It’s time the world knows that.”
Anxious anticipation ripples through me as Draven and I at last walk into one of the smaller ballrooms on the ground floor. Faelights glitter in the ceiling, making the carved ice pillars around the room shimmer. Food and drinks are waiting on silvertrays that have been placed on the tables along the walls, but very few people are eating and drinking. Instead, everyone is watching each other with suspicious eyes. As if this kind of event isn’t normal.
It took a lot longer than it should have to put on that black dress and get ready. But that was mostly because Draven simply tossed his towel on the bed, leaving him naked right in front of me, as he started putting on his clothes and armor. I could barely concentrate on my own clothes when his muscles flexed every time he lifted a piece of armor and secured it to his toned body. And the smug glances he cast in my direction informed me that he knew exactly what he was doing. Revenge for the ‘yes, sir’ comment, most likely.
But I still can’t help but worry about Bane and Jessina’s reaction to my dress as I follow Draven deeper into the room.
My heart leaps when I spot the Icehearts. And more importantly, the two people next to them.
Isera and Alistair are standing two steps behind them. Their heads are bowed and their shoulders are slumped submissively, but they are wearing actual clothes. No handcuffs. No blindfolds. No strange contraptions in their mouths. Only the iron collars around their throats.
A wave of anticipation washes over me.
This means that they have managed to fool Jessina and Bane into thinking that they have broken them. Which means that they might have information about the treasury.
My heart patters against my ribs as Draven and I close the final distance to them.
Jessina’s sharp gray eyes immediately dart to my dress.
“She’s wearing black,” she states when we come to a halt in front of her and Bane.
“Yes,” Draven simply replies.
Tense silence falls over our small group. I can almost hear it crackling in the air between us.
Then Jessina clicks her tongue. “It makes her look even more pale and sickly.” She flicks her wrist in a dismissive gesture. “I approve.”
I have to suppress both a sigh of relief and an annoyed scowl. Standing a step behind Draven, I keep my chin lowered and my eyes on the floor.
“Everyone else is having fun, I see,” Draven says, obvious sarcasm in his voice.
