And she hated that he was right.
Not that she would admit that to his face.
“Whatever. I have important business to attend to,” she said dismissively and stepped to the side to move around his hulking frame. “Enjoy the party. Or don’t.”
“I heard this was your idea.” Eurig let out a snort and shook his head. “I should have known. Only a human would decide something so trivial would be the answer to the King’s current state.”
Bree tensed. “What the hell do you know about the King’s current state?”
He hadn’t been at the aftermath of the coronation. Bree was certain of it. There had only been a handful of fae left, and she would have remembered his face—and his body—if he’d been amongst them. If word was beginning to spread…it was only a matter of time before the entire Court found out.
Eurig leaned closer, dropping his voice into a low growl. “I know that the King will not be attending tonight’s ball, despite it being a celebration of his new reign. Whatever curse has befallen him, a paralyzed fae cannot walk, let alone dine and dance to music all night.”
“How did you find out?” Bree snapped. “Who told you?”
If there was a leak, Bree needed to find it quickly. And plug it.
Eurig let out a low chuckle, and the scent of mint, cinnamon, and sea filled her nose. “Relax. Rafferty informed me of the King’s condition when I first joined the Academy. And there is no need to worry about me. I will not reveal your precious Taveon’s condition to anyone else.”
Irritation bubbled up from deep within her gut. “Well, there’s no need to be an ass about it.”
“You are right. There’s no need.” He winked. “But it’s certainly more fun to be. I not only know about your precious male’s curse, but I know about your bond. And your feelings for him are written all across that cute little pixie face of yours.”
Bree ground her teeth together and fought the urge to show Eurig exactly how far her training had come in the past few weeks. “Don’t call me cute.”
“And why is that, Bree? Because you’re a vicious beast and not a sweet little thing with a tiny nose?” And then he tapped her nose with his forefinger. He actually bopped her nose. Bree was so taken aback that she didn’t have the chance to react until he’d already strode away from her, disappearing into the heaving crowd. She blinked after him, stunned.
She couldn’t believe he’d just bopped her nose, like she was a cute little pet.
Fisting her hands, she began to stride after him but another male fae slid into her way before she had the chance. He was tall and lithe, his face hidden by a mask. But Bree would recognize his aura no matter what he did to try to obscure his identity.
She narrowed her eyes and stepped back. “Why are you here?”
Bree didn’t say Fillan’s name, even though a part of her knew she probably should. He was infamous, but most of the fae in this room had never actually laid eyes on him before. When Fillan had first shown up in her life, Taveon and Dagen had both given her a grim warning: Fillan never lets a fae see him unless he plans on assassinating them. Or unless he wants something.
Still, if she spoke his name aloud, every fae in the room would know exactly who he was.
“I need to speak to you,” he said quietly as he wrapped a tight grip around her arm. “Alone. And I would appreciate it if you did not make a scene.”
“You’re asking me to not make a scene? You’re the one who showed up here in the middle of a ball meant to celebrate our Court. Not to mention the host of other things you’ve done.” Like kissing her in front of Branok and Conlan, for one.
“Meet me on the other side of the tapestry,” he said in an urgent tone, ignoring every other statement she’d made. “And do so quickly.”
Fillan drifted away from her, letting his body fall into the churn of the crowd. She watched his back slowly melt from her view, anger and fear roiling through her. Logically, Bree knew what she should do. Go straight to Dagen or Rafe and tell them what had just happened. But the logical part of her brain was drowned out by curiosity. Had Fillan found something? He knew about Taveon’s curse. Perhaps he’d somehow found out how to break it.
Or he’d discovered what the color of Taveon’s wings meant.
So, with a deep breath, she followed him through the crowd. She slowed to a stop by the fluttering tapestry. It was the same one that had hung there during the last ball. It was a deep crimson red, and a large pair of wings had been sown into the fabric. King Midas’s symbol, one intended to remind his subjects of his power and strength.
Red wings meant raw power. The kind that could not be contested or matched. Most Dark Fae had black wings.
And Taveon had silver ones, a trait so rare that she had been forbidden to speak of it, even with Lord Dagen.
Oh, how badly she wanted to know what that meant.
Bree dipped beneath the tapestry and ran face first into Fillan’s chest. Cheeks flaming, she took a step back and smoothed down the front of her dress, as if she’d somehow wrinkled it, even though she’d done nothing of the sort. She just needed to something to do with her hands. Something that did not involve reaching out and touching Fillan. Anywhere.
He is an assassin, Bree.
So, why did he look like nothing of the sort? Sure, he came across as deadly and as dangerous as any of the Dark Fae, but he did not hold that darkness as heavily on his shoulders as the rest. There was something lighthearted in his eyes. Something softer and kinder than most of the fae she’d met so far. And yet, he was a killer.
Perhaps his smile was merely a mask, just like Taveon’s mask of brutality and Dagen’s mask of indifference. Because Taveon was as far from brutal as one could get, and Dagen cared far more than he wanted anyone to know.
Fillan cracked a grin, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You look flustered.”
“Yes, well.” She swallowed hard. “You caught me off guard. You know, just like you usually do. Are you even capable of showing up like a normal person instead of some kind of creepy wraith?”
He pressed a hand to his heart and mimed stumbling back. “Ouch. A wraith? How positively horrid.”
Bree crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t pretend to be offended. You’re anything but. Anyway, get on with it. Why the big cloak and dagger scene? What’s so urgent that you had to show yourself in the middle of the party?”
“I did not show myself. Fillan lifted his mask over his head to reveal his very chiseled jaw. “Now, I am showing myself. To you and you alone.”
Something about the way he spoke those words made Bree’s heart rage like a bull let loose in a crowd.
“I’ve come to warn you that—” He stopped suddenly and cocked his head. A strange expression crossed his face, one that was something akin to half-irritation and half-amusement. “Oh, here we go again.”
Fillan’s arm shot out, and he wrapped it around Bree’s waist before she had any idea what was happening. She let out a sharp cry of alarm, but his mouth landed on her lips before any sound could escape between them. Eyes wide, she wrapped her hands around his arms and half-heartedly tried to push him away. But then she felt the tightly-coiled biceps and felt the hardness of his perfectly-formed chest. And his lips…they shot a delicious thrill down to her toes, and her entire body sighed against him.
Traitor, Bree thought to herself. Her treacherous body would just not listen to the warnings she screamed inside her head. He’s dangerous. Get away from him. Run! Run very far away...
But instead, she curled toward him, her back arching as his soft lips moved sensually against hers…
“Not again,” a sharp voice called out from behind her.
With a gasp, Bree jumped back at least five feet to put as much distance between her and Fillan as she could. Her heart lurched against her ribs, rattling like the tracks of a train. She spun on her feet, knowing exactly what she would find before she even saw it.
Conlan and Branok. Again. And they were sc
owling at her as if she were the grossest bug they’d ever laid eyes on.
“Lord Conlan. Lord Branok.” She gave each a slight bow of her head. “I can explain.”
“No need to,” Conlan said as he narrowed his eyes. “Clearly, your affection for the King only goes so far. If you want to lie in bed with an assassin, it’s your head, not ours.”
Chapter 12
Bree
Bree whirled on Fillan, her heart racing. She pushed him once. Then twice. “What the hell was that all about? How dare you fake kiss me again! You knew they were coming, didn’t you? What’s the point of this? Are you trying to turn the Court against me?”
“Relax.” He gave Bree a lopsided grin, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “No need to be angry about the falseness of it. If you would like a real kiss now, I am more than happy to oblige.”
Bree’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”
His gaze turned dark, dangerous, and thrilling. Bree shivered as he closed the space between them. “More than serious. Just admit you want a kiss from me, and I will show you the difference in one that is all for show and one that is very much real.”
Blinking, Bree shook her head, hating how hot her cheeks suddenly felt. “Stop messing with me.”
“Very well.” Fillan stepped back, sucking all the warmth of his body away along with him. She yearned to pull him back. Because a part of her truly was curious about that kiss. If that toe-curling one had only been fake, she couldn’t imagine how it would feel if he put his emotions into it…
“I came here to warn you that I have heard an attack is planned for tonight. I do not know what and I do not know when. Or by who.” His gaze locked on Bree’s. “Just know that there will likely be death this night.”
Bree shivered, eyes going as wide as the moon. All the heat she’d felt moments before drained from her face. “An attack? Where did you hear that?”
“I cannot reveal my sources. Not even to you.” He stepped closer once again and dropped the ghost of a kiss on her forehead. The touch made her eyes flutter shut, and she leaned toward him, body yearning for more even in the midst of the terrible information he’d just provided to her. “Be careful, Bree.”
A cool burst of mist swarmed over Bree’s skin, and she opened her eyes to find nothing but blank space before her. Fillan had vanished. Again. But not before telling her that someone had planned an attack on the Court this night. She needed to find Dagen before it was too late. He could alert the guards and clear the Great Hall without making too much of a scene. Panic was the last thing they needed, and if the Court got wind of an impending attack, they would question Taveon’s ability to protect them from harm.
Bree ducked under the tapestry. Conlan and Branok were already waiting for her. Their faces were twin scowls as they took in her wide eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her lips that still ached for more of Fillan’s touch.
“I assume you are somehow keeping your dalliances with the assassin hidden from Taveon, even with your bond,” Conlan said, pursing his lips. “But be assured, Redcap girl, we will inform him once he returns to the world of the living. We let it go once. We will not let it go again. You are clearly involved with Fillan, and the King needs to know exactly what one of his closest advisors is involved with.”
Bree didn’t want to imagine the look on Taveon’s face when he found out she’d been caught kissing Fillan—twice. But she couldn’t also help the thrill that went through her at Conlan’s words. Taveon considered her one of his closest advisors. It was a thought that warmed her far more than she would have expected.
“Honestly, it’s not what it looked like.” Or was it? “And there are more important things to worry about right now. Fillan told me that there will be an attack on the Court tonight. We need to tell the guards so they can calmly and quickly clear the hall.”
Branok’s eyebrows lifted to the top of his forehead. “And did he warn you of this alleged attack before or after he took you to his bed?”
Her neck filled with an impossible heat. “He didn’t take me to bed. It was just a kiss. One that I didn’t ask for, by the way.”
But it had definitely been one she’d enjoyed…
“You are new here, Bree,” Conlan said softly, though not gently. “So, you will not be as aware of Fillan’s reputation as you should be. This would not be the first time he lied in order to get a female to do his bidding.”
Bree gaped at the Lord. “What are you talking about? Lord Dagen said that Fillan never revealed himself to anyone he did not intend to kill.”
“Dagen may have…exaggerated. Most likely in hope of getting you to stay away from Fillan.” Branok and Conlan exchanged a weighted glance. “Fillan may have a reputation as an accomplished assassin, but he also has a reputation with the females. He is…quite popular, it seems, and he is able to charm his way into anyone’s bed.”
“Females,” Conlan said with a bark. “Why they are attracted to an assassin is beyond me.”
Irritation flickered through Bree. Strangely, she felt kind of…jealous. Even though their kiss had been all for show, the way he kept showing up as some kind of wraith-like savior had made Bree feel a little special. But clearly that wasn’t the case if he was making girls around the realm swoon at any chance he got.
“Look.” She cleared her throat. “There was no taking to bed, okay? Fillan was being serious. There’s an attack planned on the Court tonight.”
Branok and Conlan exchanged skeptical glances once again. “I doubt he was being as honest as you thought he was. Even if he is right, ending the ball early would do far more harm than good.”
Conlan gave a nod, continuing. “It would only signal to the rest of the realm that something is wrong here.”
“There are guards stationed all around the castle grounds. Experienced males who are far more powerful than a random attacker,” Branok said. “No weapons are allowed in, and no one can get in or out without being vetted first.”
“Fillan got in, didn’t he?” Bree pointed out.
Conlan waved his hand dismissively. “Fillan is a unique case. If he wanted to carry out an attack on the Court, putting an end to the ball would not stop him in the least.”
Shaking her head, Bree took two steps back away from the Lords. “So, you’re going to do nothing.”
Smiling, Conlan grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant before crossing the space to press it into Bree’s hands. “No, I am going to enjoy myself. And you should, too.”
“Do what you came here to do, Bree. Mingle. Make sure everyone thinks the King is fine. And keep an ear out for anything that might point toward whoever is behind his curse.”
Bree curled her fingers tight around the wine glass and tipped back her head to empty the contents into her mouth. The bitter liquid burned her throat as it slid into her stomach, but it didn’t stop her from grabbing another and drinking it just as fast. When she was done, she wiped her sleeve against her lips and stormed away from the Lords who still watched over the proceedings in the corner with their nonchalant expressions pasted across their faces.
They might not care about Fillan’s warnings but Dagen would. She needed to find him. Quickly before—
A massive body stepped in front of her. She glanced up. Eurig.
With a frustrated sigh, she pressed against his chest, but he didn’t budge even the slightest. “What are you doing, Eurig? Can you please get out of my way?”
“Somehow, you get even ruder when you drink.” He lifted his chin, eyes glittering. “Where are you off to in such a hurry? I saw you sneaking behind the tapestry and then back, and those Lords over there did not look particularly happy to see you.”
“None of your damn business,” Bree snapped before letting out a heavy sigh and pushing at his chest. “Move. It’s important, Eurig.”
His eyes flicked across her face, and he frowned. “Something is wrong.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
&n
bsp; “Tell me, Bree,” he said in a low voice.
“Why would I tell you of all people?” she asked. “You’ve done nothing but convince me that you’d rather see this Court burn down than anything else.”
“That is not true.” Eurig’s gaze went razor sharp, and he nodded, as if he suddenly understood every thought whirring through Bree’s mind. “Is someone in danger?”
Bree sighed. As much as she hated to fill Eurig in on what was happening, she knew he wasn’t going to leave her be unless she spilled. “Everyone is in danger. There have been reports of an attack planned for tonight. I need to find Dagen or Rafe and tell them what’s happening so they can get everyone out of here safely.”
Eurig gave a nod, and suddenly he was all business. “You take that half of the Great Hall. I will take this one. We will find the others more quickly if we split up. What should I tell them if I find them first? Who is attacking?”
Bree shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything but what I’ve told you.”
Eurig regarded her carefully, his expression full of wariness. “Some might say you don’t have anything at all.”
“You going to help me or not?”
Eurig gave a nod and disappeared through the mingling crowd. Bree watched him retreat, and she couldn’t help but notice how the muscles in his back rippled as he moved. He was a strange one. Something in his existence as an outposter had hardened him to the rest of the realm. He liked to put on a big show, but Bree wondered exactly what he was hiding beneath his gruff and angry exterior.
Bree turned and made her way in the opposite direction. She cast her gaze around at the horned fae, sizing each one up as the potential attacker. But none of them stood out to her more than any of the rest. With their masks and their horns, they all look looked dangerous.
When Bree had first come to Underworld, she had feared these fae. They had seemed monstrous to her, and she had been certain they were capable of far worse things than the most despicable humans were. But she’d been wrong. While some of these fae were indeed full of dark things, they held the darkness far differently than humans did. They embraced it, and they learned how to use it without letting it take over their minds. The Dark Fae knew the power of the darkest parts of themselves without becoming a part of the darkness themselves.
A Heart of Midnight (Dark Fae Academy Book 2) Page 7
