Page 132 of Throne of Ice and Blood
Magic flows through the connections that I’ve made to their feelings of drunkenness and makes them flare up. Not into the massive wildfires I can normally create. But enough that people start laughing too loudly and swaying a little on their feet. As if they are much more intoxicated than they really are.
A sort of merry chaos quickly spreads through the room.
With my heart fluttering nervously in my chest, and my energy draining at a steady pace, I hurry through the throng. When I’m almost at the dais, Isera finally glances up. She blinks in surprise at the seemingly very drunk dragon shifters around her.
“We’re getting out,” I hiss at the two of them. “Right now.”
Alistair snaps his head up as well.
And neither of them hesitates. Lurching into motion, they hurry after me as I start back towards the door. My pulse thrums in my ears. All around us, people are talking too loudly and stumbling and slapping each other on the arm and giggling. I fervently pray that none of them will notice us. Magic flows out of me. I need to release it soon, or it will take too long for my energy to build back up.
We pass the table by the outer wall where drinks and bites of food have been placed on gleaming silver trays. Two dragon shifters in elegant suits are leaning against the table. Their eyes slide in an out of focus, as if they can’t keep their vision straight because of how drunk I’m making them feel. I keep my head bowed, trying to stay as invisible as possible while I pass them.
“Hey,” the black-haired one suddenly says. His hand shoots out and reaches for Isera’s arm, but he’s too clumsy to actually grab her. While straightening after the failed grab, he rakes hisgaze up and down her body. “Why did they give you clothes again? I prefer you half-naked.”
Isera picks up a knife from the cutlery that has been laid out on the table.
And rams it into his throat.
I gasp.
Blood spurts from his carotid artery when she yanks the knife back out. It splatters across Isera’s face, but she doesn’t so much as flinch. She just whirls towards the guy’s companion and rams the knife into his throat as well.
In the span of a few seconds, two dragon shifters collapse to the floor, their life bleeding out of them.
Isera’s blue and silver eyes are so cold and devoid of all sense of remorse that a chill races down my spine. She just spins towards the next group of dragon shifters, who haven’t even noticed the slaughter yet, while flexing her hand on the handle of the knife.
But before she can take so much as a step towards them, Alistair rushes forward and wraps his arms around her waist from behind. Lifting her off the floor, he spins back towards me while carrying Isera.
She struggles hard against his grip, and her voice is vicious as she snarls, “I want them dead. I want themalldead.”
“We will kill them,” he snaps at her while hauling her towards the open doors to the patio. “I swear we will fucking kill them all for what they did to us. But first, we need to get the hell out of here.”
Isera growls curses but stops fighting so hard. With a grunt, Alistair half shoves, half throws Isera out the door. While he hurries out onto the patio as well, I flick my gaze across the ballroom again.
Glittering faelights shimmer against the decorations and glitter in the jewelry that the female courtiers are wearing.Everyone is still laughing and stumbling as if they’re severely drunk. No one has noticed a thing.
An unexpected pulse of pride ripples through me. I might be way stronger with my magic than even I knew.
Darting out onto the patio, I cut off the flow to my magic and then close the doors behind me again.
A pair of commanding golden eyes stare down at me from only a step away.
Draven.
His face is splattered with a few drops of blood, but he looks otherwise unharmed.
“With ten seconds to spare,” he announces. Then he jerks his chin while starting towards the side gate on the west side. “Any problems?”
I open my mouth to reply.
A shriek cuts through the night as someone inside the ballroom screams in shock. Now that my magic is no longer clouding their senses, someone must have noticed the two dead bodies that Isera left behind.
“Uhm…” is all I manage to reply while giving Draven an apologetic grimace.
“Azaroth’s fucking flame,” he growls.
We sprint towards the barracks.
