“It’s time.” She curved back, nodding at the guards. The doors split open, revealing the breathtaking circular room. Istvan used his sixteen-sided central hall as the “ballroom.” The guests arrived at the front entrance that led them through the jaw-dropping grandeur of the main hall, highlighted by old plated staircases, huge ornately curved ceilings, stained-glass windows, and glass fire-bulbs flickering on the gold lampposts lining the room. Waiters and servants took coats and offered champagne while a small orchestra played on the upper landing, filling the room with music.
Then they were guided to the central hall, the gold starburst designed dome ceiling leaving the visitor stunned at the ostentatiousness of the room. A huge orchestra sat on an upper level, where several full bars and tables of decadent food stood. Tons of waitstaff mulled around with rich hors d’oeuvre and champagne. Magic-influenced fire-bulbs and twinkle lights cast the room in a seductive ambiance. It never ceased to leave me breathless.
Heads snapped in our direction; Rebeka always made a memorable entrance. Now her eyes drifted to me.
“You leave them speechless, my girl,” she whispered to me. “Putty in your hands.” She squeezed my arm before ambling toward her husband.
Hundreds of eyes homed in on me, and I was overcome by the urge to turn around, go back to my room, and dive into my bed with a good book.
Sucking in a breath, I lifted my head, directing myself straight for a waiter carrying champagne. Swiping one off the tray, I guzzled half of it back when I spotted Caden across the room, leaning against the bar, his eyes on me.
His gaze felt heavy on my skin. Serious, but filled with something I had always hoped for.
Longing.
I had seen him in a suit or tux many times, and he always made my heart thrust into my throat. Tonight was no different. Dressed in a black tailored tux that fit his body perfectly, a glass of whiskey in his hand, he looked so beautiful I was almost speechless.
Sparkling bubbles danced in my stomach along with my nerves, magnifying like soap suds, causing my breath to gurgle.
He didn’t smile or move toward me, but similar to a magnet, I felt the tug between us. The spark in the atmosphere. A shift in our friendship.
Bodies moved all around me. Music and chatter weaved through the air. The smell of expensive perfumes and food reached my nose, but it all seemed far away.
Caden was all I saw.
I downed my glass of champagne, placed it on a passing tray, and moved toward him.
“Hey,” I barely squeaked out the greeting, my throat tight.
“Hey.” He set down his whiskey glass, his eyes still on mine, hazy with drink. Normally, Caden was too rigid in his training to drink much, wanting to always be at his best. So it was odd for him to get drunk.
Did this have to do with me? What he heard earlier?
My brain scrambled for something to say. I had always been able to talk to him. To tease and be myself around him. Was it because the connection was one-sided, and he only saw me as a friend? Standing before him now, my throat cinched up; no conversation came to my mind.
“You look amazing.” He cleared his throat, his attention moving down the gown. The bare skin between my breasts tingled.
When I had returned to my room after training, this gown had been laid out for me, telling me exactly what I was supposed to wear tonight. Usually, I had a few choices of exquisite gowns. This time there was one.
The floor-length gown was sensual and elegant at the same time. Silvery translucent flowers decorated parts of the ultra-sheer champagne-colored fabric, leaving glimpses of skin everywhere. The material sparkled under the lights like glitter. The plunging neckline went to the base of my sternum and exposed my back, causing me to feel very bare, which was funny because I was practically naked in training all the time. You became very comfortable with being minimally dressed when working out with a small coed group. With genderless locker rooms, we had no room to be modest. I had no problem with my body. I could handle walking around in boy shorts and a sports bra when training and be completely comfortable.
Now I felt uncomfortable—on display like some dessert.
“Thank you.” I grabbed the glass from his fingers, taking a sip, my gaze sliding to him. “Looking forward to when it comes off.”
His head jerked up, his eyes widening slightly.
Chagrin swam in my cheeks with the realization of what I said. “I mean—I didn’t—”
“I know.” A grin drew up his lips. “You’d rather be in workout clothes and tossing someone’s ass onto the mat, making them cry.”
“Now that sounds like my kind of party.” I smiled around the rim, taking another sip, the smoky flavor burning down my throat.
He snorted, shaking his head. “Guess I need to order another one for myself.” He nodded toward my hand. “Always the little thief.”
“You act as if you can’t just go behind the bar and take the whole bottle.” I rolled my eyes, motioning to the bartender.
“I could take everything here if I wanted.” He leaned into me, his mouth close to my ear, and my breath stalled in my lungs.
My gaze jumped to him, but I forced my expression to stay blank.
He stared at me, his intent penetrating me.
Holyshitholyshitholyshit.
“The same again, sir?” The bartender’s voice jolted me, and I sucked in sharply.
Caden nodded, holding up his fingers. “Two.”
“Yes, sir.” The guy bowed his head slightly, reaching for the private collection of whiskey. Imported from Scotland, it probably cost as much as my dress did, if not more. Everything from the West—from the Unified Nations—was expensive, which allowed only the rich to be able to procure these items.
We both stayed silent. Tension, which had never existed before, now dripped between us like heavy syrup. The bartender set down the glasses, his eyes darting between us with curiosity before he moved on to other guests.
“Caden…” I twisted to him.
“Don’t, Brex.” He stared down into his drink. “It is taking everything I have not to go over and beat the shit out of that te geci.” Motherfucker. His hands rolled up into balls, his glower stretching across the space to where Aron and all the different classes of cadets hung out, drinking and enjoying the night. “The thought of you being with him...”
I turned to face the room, not knowing how to respond.
“I can’t believe you slept with that guy. He touched you.” Caden’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw locking down. “He’s such a douchebag, and you let him…”
“I know what I did,” I snapped. Aron wasn’t my finest moment, a regret that I had to relive daily. I hated that he was my first, that he had something no one else would. But it was done, and in all honesty, I barely remembered it.
But what I did was my choice. My mistake. Caden had no right to judge or condemn me for it.
“When?” he croaked.
“Does it matter? It was a long time ago.” I slammed back a huge gulp of my drink, my eyes watering as it scorched down my throat.
“Brex.”
“It’s none of your business. And why do you care? Aren’t you fucking Lilla?” I glowered at him. “You aren’t my boyfriend. You have no say in what I do. Or who I do.”
He flinched, bowing his head. Then his lips spoke words so low I barely captured them. “What if I wanted to be?”
Like I had taken a punch to the ribs, fear halted my breath—fear I was mistaking the meaning of his words. Heard them wrong. Twisting to him, my chest puffed with tension as his gaze landed heavily on me. With want. Desire.
“Want to be what?” I whispered.
His gaze rolled over my body as he leaned in. “Want to be—”
“There you two are.” Istvan’s deep voice sliced through our bubble, jerking both of us toward him.
His stern expression showed nothing, but his steel eyes went back and forth between us, assessing us like a predator. Also dressed in a tux, Istvan looked every
bit the ruler he was. Handsome, charismatic, ruthless, and arrogant.
“I expect you two to mingle and greet our guests, not hang out with each other as you do every day.” He spoke to us but continued nodding and shaking hands with admirers passing by who wanted to speak with the infamous leader. “I want you both to join me in welcoming Prime Minister Lazar.”
I straightened to my full five-feet-seven height, my stomach already twisting at the thought of conversing with strangers. I learned to be good at it, but I hated it. Since becoming Istvan’s ward, he expected me to play the part as a real daughter would. Using both Caden and me like chess pieces, he strategically moved us around the room.
“These are very important people. I need you on your best behavior.”
“Then I probably should stay here.” My hand went to my stomach, where the whiskey and champagne now clashed.
Istvan’s gaze slid to me. “I believe I said both of you.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. The man could make a monster cower with that look.
Istvan took a breath and strode away.
My focus fell on Caden, longing for him to finish what he was going to say.
“Caden…”
“Not now, Brex.” He shook his head.
Pinching my lips, I exhaled. This night already felt too long.
“After you.” Caden motioned for me to go first.
All I wanted was to be alone with Caden. What was he going to say before his father cut him off? Did he want to be my boyfriend? Was he finally admitting there was something there?
Later, Brex, I chided myself. Just get through this damn night.
Drinking down the rest of my liquid courage, I rolled my shoulders back and followed Istvan, trying to shove away the gnawing urge to walk straight out the door.
Chapter 5
“Prime Minister Lazar, sorry to keep you waiting.” Istvan dipped his head slightly to the man standing across from Rebeka, who was joined by his family. Alexandru Lazar was in his fifties, short, with an average build. His dark hair was short, silvering, and styled perfectly. He had dark brown eyes, a long narrow nose, and thin lips. His dress uniform, also laden in medals, flaunted his power. “You remember our son, Caden. And our ward, General Benet Kovacs’s daughter, Brexley.”
“I do, General Markos,” he replied with a thick accent, slanting his head at Caden. “It is good to see you again, Caden.”
“You too, sir.” Caden shook his hand, their exchange formal and stiff.
“Brexley.” Lazar took my hand, his thin wet lips brushing over my knuckles. Peering up at me, his eyes lingered over my body. “Exquisite as always. Truly a work of art. You become even more bewitching every time I see you.”
It was no secret he loved women and thought taking lovers was a man’s right. He had made it clear since I turned fifteen that he wanted me to be one of those women.
“Prime Minister.” I curtsied with a smile, tugging my hand away, rubbing it inconspicuously in the folds of my dress. I had learned how to school my face into a pleasant smile while screaming on the inside. “A pleasure.”
“I hope Rebeka kept you entertained.” Istvan touched his wife’s back, sharing a fake “we’re so in love” smile between them.
“Your lovely wife could always entertain me in your absence. I enjoy her company much more than yours, Istvan.” You couldn’t mistake the innuendo drenching his sentiment. His stern face and eyes stared back at our leader.
Rebeka’s eyes slid to her husband with unspoken words, but a false, sparkling smile still stretched her mouth as she swished her hand at the prime minister. “Always such the charmer, Alexandru.”
Tensions were high between Romania and Hungary. Instead of coming together when they realized splitting off from the Unified Nations was in nobody’s best interest, they doubled down, wanting to acquire more land from the other. It was a constant threat, a thin line of alliance, which at any time could crumble.
Budapest always had a turbulent past, being tossed from one dictator to another, finally coming out of it only to turn its back on the king and queen, reverting this land back to authoritarian rule with a penchant for war.
“She was just confirming our cargo would be heading out tonight,” Lazar stated, a challenge in his voice.
Cargo? As far as I knew, Romania went through Ukraine to export their supplies. Another leader attending the party who walked the line between enemy and ally. The room was full of adversaries, all pretending they got along and wanted peace between us. You’d think fighting the fae would bring humans together, but it didn’t. Instead, they bickered and fought amongst themselves, each trying to seize more power.
“Yes, though I don’t think this is the place to discuss it.” Istvan shoved his shoulders back, the war of egos battling it out. It would have been more honest if they had drawn out their dicks and started using them as swords.
“Why?” Lazar lifted his eyebrow, motioning around the room. “Isn’t this exactly why you invited me? The room is set to impress. I do hope I wasn’t supposed to be daunted by your wealth and power, Istvan. That would be a shame.”
I could recognize the clench of Istvan’s jaw, the negligible twitch in his left eye. It was so slight no one would notice, but I had spent years pissing off Istvan.
“The items will be departing on the last night train before dawn. Without a hitch, I assure you.”
“I am taking a great risk with you.” Lazar took a sip of his champagne. “If President Ivanenko hears of our deal, let’s just say the next time he comes here, it will be with troops.”
Ivanenko was the Ukrainian “president.” A ceremonial title. With the walls falling between the fae world and Earth twenty years ago, there really were no presidents or prime ministers anymore. They each got a piece of the city they shared with fae leaders. But they clung to the old titles like wailing children trying to hold on to a favorite toy as it got tossed into the fire.
Ivanenko’s power was multiplying as he acquired more soldiers, money, and weapons. Rumors of him working with the fae to expand his influence over other human-ruled lands abounded. His threat to conquer their land loomed over both Hungary and Romania.
“It will make both our countries very wealthy.” Istvan kept his voice low, his eyes sliding around the room, making sure no one overheard him. “Once it is out there. We will control the trade—become untouchable. Have power and unyielding armies at our fingertips. Trust me. What I have seen… There is no question it works.”
What was he up to? The wealthy businessmen in Leopold owned all of the human factories in the Savage Lands, not Istvan. I wasn’t naïve to think he didn’t dabble in their dirty dealings or know what they were doing. He had to. It was the only way to survive in these times in the East. And as a ruler, he needed to know everything going on, but he mainly stayed away from trade, letting his fat friends get fatter.
This felt different. What deal had he made with Lazar? And what were they exporting out of here?
“However, let me stress again that this is not the time to discuss such matters.” Istvan cleared his throat, his demeanor lightening as he grabbed a champagne flute from a tray, his eyes falling on me. “We have much more pleasant things to plan.”
Like an icy finger scraping down my spine, I shivered, my stomach twisting with alarm at his heavy gaze.
“Yes. We do.” Lazar twisted to peer behind him, flicking his head at the figures. His stunning wife, Sorina, stepped forward, silent and demure. She used to model, prostitute, and work in adult movies before he pulled her from the trenches and made her rich and pampered. He treated her similar to a second-class citizen, and probably reminded her at every turn he could send her back into poverty’s cruel embrace. She smiled and did all the right things but was vacant and dead behind her eyes. I wanted to feel bad for her, but she made her own bed...
A man stepped up to Lazar’s other side. Sergiu. I had met their son only twice, many years ago, and he rendered a very less-than-stellar impr
ession on me. He had been uptight and difficult, tattling on Caden and me if we did anything he found inappropriate. Which was everything.
A year older than Caden, he still looked like a teenager. He was an inch taller than me, with a slim frame and the same cruel eyes his father had. His longer brown hair waved back as perfectly as Lazar’s. His nose was more bubbled at the end, resembling his mother, Sorina. Some might think him good-looking enough, but I never did, especially because he was as interesting as a dry rag, and had an evil cruelty behind his stiff demeanor.
He might have grown in age and height, but his sour expression suggested he was still an uptight prick. The rumors about him made me dislike him more. The gossip was Sergiu wasn’t only rough in bed but outside of it too. He treated women like punching bags to alleviate the rage he kept behind the unemotional facade.
“Sergiu, it’s been a while.” Istvan shook the boy’s hand. Sergiu nodded, muttering something I couldn’t understand.
Damn! This was the longest night ever. My head twisted, searching for a tray of alcohol, landing on Caden’s face. He kept his expression pleasant and neutral, but I knew he was feeling the same way I was.
Kill me now. I let my eyes roll enough for him to see. His lips went white as he pinned them together, trying not to laugh.
“Brexley?” Istvan’s stern voice drew my attention back to him.
“Yes?”
“You remember Sergiu, I am sure.” Istvan tilted his head to the man in question, the intensity in his eyes making me feel like I missed something. Something very vital.
“Y-yes.” I pulled my focus off Istvan to Sergiu, dampness coating the back of my neck. “It’s nice to see you again.”
He kept silent, bowing his head at my comment, though his eyes raked over me. Unlike his father, his stare was full of judgment.
And I came up short.
“There will be some time to get to know each other before the day.”
Huh?
“Day?” I swallowed, a dot of sweat trickling down my back.
Caden jerked beside me, his form going rigid, his eyes locked on Istvan. “Father?”
Savage Lands (Savage Lands #1) Page 4
