The footsteps stop directly behind me.
My breath falters as a large, tattooed hand clasps my shoulder. His thumb brushes my skin before stilling, the movement so delicate I thought I imagined it.
Whispers slither around the room, shocked at my selection. Eyebrows raise and jaws lower. I don’t need to see their faces to know who stands behind me: the most powerful and feared male in recent history, Atlys, the Underworld Lord of Terraguard.
23
A Dance of Silver and Gold
Atlys
Iattempt to listen to the ramblings of this human politician, but all I can think about isher.
Her soul sings to mine.
“The treaty really shouldn’t need too many modifications this time around,” the human Elder says, not bothering to pause for me to respond before continuing to drone on. I do not ask for their name; by the next Summit, they won’t be around anyway.
He’s so tall. I wonder if all Underlings are this tall, a thought from a nearby human rings in my head. I ignore the constant murmur of voices as I do the others. As if the ballroom isn’t already loud enough with actual talking, their thoughts have to fill my head too. Hearing other people’s thoughts has never been a challenge to tune out before, but I’m… distracted.
I give the Elder a curt nod in response, pretending to listen. There are much bigger issues than the growing forces on the Southern Continent.
So handsome, a woman in a red dress thinks as she walks by, eyes lingering on my biceps. On another night, I would consider approaching her, but for some fucking reason, there is only one human I need to get closer to. Not because I’m attracted to her, no… it’s because I need to know why it stops when I’m around her.
The wandering voices in my head—the near constant onslaught of thoughts—are silenced when I’m nearher.
Bored of this conversation, I stretch to my full height, towering over Elder Don’t Give a Fuck. His wince of fear is quickly masked as he scrambles away. Good, I’ve been wanting to move to another spot, farther from the commotion where I can view the room from afar. Hopefully get some peace and quiet.
Crowds part for me like water trailing through sand, creating a moat where I walk.Isn’t he the Soul Eater?andThat’s the Terraguard Lord. I hear he can walk through solid stone! ring through my mind as I pass.
As usual, I ignore the voices. Grateful for the shadows at the edge of the room, I lean against the stone wall. It’s the cold against my back, the only thing familiar about this place. I pretend to scan the floor full of people dancing, knowing full well where my eyes want to land. Wheresheis. The silky skin of her delicate shoulder is permanently seared on my palm as much as it is in my memories. It took more self control than I would like to admit to contain myself when I touched her. So soft, so warm. My chest purrs at the unearthly things I want to do to her.
Never have I felt this way. Unraveled by a single touch. Undone until the world falls completely silent. Utter and complete silence.
By ahuman.
“Discreetly checking out your champion, I see,” the familiar smooth voice of the General of my Coredivers says. “She really is quite lovely.”
“Damaris,” I say in a warning. Deep down, a protective instinct growls at the thought of anyone else looking at my champion. Damaris is unfazed. They understand my sense of humor, my tone, my tells. It is why we work so well together. A war general needs to be able to communicate with their commander with or without words.
Damaris hands me a goblet of wine then leans against the wall next to me. “For a human, that is,” they add.
I growl another warning.
“Oh, do cheer up, Atlys. Even Cadex is enjoying the festivities.” Damaris gestures to my Third, a gargantuan war lord known for demolishing an entire Old World city, now drinking merrily with his champion, a brunette doppelganger of himself, Gryphon, who threw one of the loose boulders across the stadium. The act was probably magically assisted, but his strength was impressive.
But impressive as it was, only one human captured my attention yesterday at the Presentation.
Sheis in the center of the room. The girl from the Source pool is dancing with her short haired friend, head tilted upward as if basking in sunlight.
Unaware that she is the sun itself.
Her golden dress shimmers across her body in mesmerizing waves, changing color slightly with each movement like a sunrise stretching across the sky.
As a creature of the Underworld, I am cold, dark. Whereas she is my inverse, radiant and warm and light andhuman. All of the things I despise and yet I’m drawn to her in some inexplicable way.
My hand aches for the contact of her skin once more. So soft, so… fragile. With one squeeze, I could have broken her clavicle, but I didn’t want to.
How odd.
