Page 51 of Throne of Ice and Blood
Soft fingers brush over my shoulder. A shudder of pleasure rolls through my whole body as Draven draws his hand overthe back of my neck, moving my hair to the side. I draw in an unsteady breath as he drapes my hair over my shoulder instead. Every time his fingers touch my skin, it sends lightning crackling through me.
Cool silver meets my suddenly heated skin as Draven positions the necklace around my throat. His breath caresses the back of my neck as he bends down a little to fasten the clasp. Another shiver ripples down my spine with every warm breath that dances over my skin.
“There,” he says. “Done.”
But his hands linger on my shoulders for another second. My heart thumps hard. Then he lets his hands slide off my shoulders. I turn to face him.
Holding his gaze, I try to read the expression on his features while I reach up and brush a hand over the beautiful necklace now resting around my throat.
“This doesn’t change the fact that I’m wearing an iron collar too,” I say. But my voice doesn’t come out nearly as hard as I had intended it to. Instead, it comes out sounding more like a confused question.
Pain flits across Draven’s face for a moment. “I know.” His eyes are serious as he holds my gaze. “But it hides it a little, which will help stop me from murdering someone tonight.”
My mouth drops open slightly, but before I can say anything, he breaks eye contact and instead rakes his gaze up and down my body. And the sheer possessiveness in his eyes when he does it makes heat pool at my core.
“Fuck,” he growls. “That dress should be black.”
My heart skips a beat. But all that makes it out of my mouth is, “So why isn’t it?”
He drags his gaze up to my face again while I realize something that I hadn’t noticed until now. And before he can say anything, I blurt out that realization.
“In fact, nothing in here is black.” Raising a hand, I motion at the rooms around us. “All the furniture, the couches, the armchairs, even your bedsheets, are silver.”
He draws his eyebrows down in a scowl. “They’re not silver. They’re dark gray. Which is halfway to black.”
A laugh of disbelief escapes my mouth. “You can’t be serious.”
“We don’t have time for?—”
“Why is nothing in here black?”
“For the same reason they made you wear silver during the commencement ball.” Before I can so much as open my mouth again, he reaches up and grips my chin while locking hard eyes on me, as if to truly make sure that I understand what he’s about to say. “Now, do you remember that deal we made?”
The sudden seriousness in his tone makes a pulse of dread flutter through me. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“When we’re in public, I need to pretend that you have already broken me and act as if you’re my master.”
“Or…?”
“Or they are going to try to break me themselves.”
“Exactly. This is the first real social gathering where Bane and Jessina can observe us, so they’re going to scrutinize our every move. Do you understand? If they’re going to believe that I’ve already broken you, you need to really sell it.”
My pulse thrums in my ears, but I hold his gaze. “I understand.”
“Good.” Releasing my chin, he lets out a long breath and rakes a hand through his hair. “Then let’s go.”
Anxious worry sluices through my veins as I follow Draven out the door.
I have a really bad feeling about this.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Even though I knew it was coming this time, I still have to suppress a horrified gasp when we walk into the banquet hall and see Isera and Alistair kneeling next to the Icehearts’ table. Just like last time, they’re half-naked, handcuffed, blindfolded with iron, and kept bowing forward by the tight chain linked from their collars to the floor.
Fury to rival the demons in hell courses through my body like liquid fire. I’m going to ram a knife through Bane and Jessina’s hearts if it’s the last thing I do.
