Midnight Fae Academy Book Three - Lexi C. Foss Page 0,60

opposite of private.

It was downright indecent, and I returned the favor by sinking my teeth into his lower lip and drawing blood. His golden irises swirled in response as I laved the wound.

Then I took a step back before he could repeat the action on my lip.

We weren’t ready for the final stage yet.

Not without Aflora.

“I’ll find you later,” I vowed. “Try not to kill Emelyn while I’m gone.”

Kols grunted. “I’m not promising anything.”

I smirked, then I nodded to a bemused Tray. He seemed speechless after the display of affection between me and Kols. Meanwhile, Ella was just grinning like a loon.

I rolled my eyes and let myself out.

Aflora, I murmured into the void of our connection. If I find out you’re here, I’m going to bend you over a table and spank your ass, then fuck you raw.

No reply.

My jaw ticked.

I should be able to at least sense her, but I couldn’t hear a damn thing. Almost as though she’d been completely sealed off from me… like when she had the collar around her throat.

I paused midstep, my eyebrows lifting. Oh, fuck...

Nacht Manor gave me the chills.

The snakelike vines, gargoyles, and other dark wildlife roamed the grounds, all with one goal in mind—protect the Nacht family.

It had taken me thirty minutes to rewire the defensive spells. Aflora had stood silently beside me while I worked, her mind attuned to mine. If anything, it provided us yet another lesson in Quandary magic.

“Did you memorize everything I just did?” I asked her as we entered the grand hall, having just given our invitations to a nearby Warrior Blood.

No one took notice of us, not even the two gargoyles at the Warrior Blood’s feet.

“Yes,” she whispered. “It was fascinating to watch. Is that how…?” She trailed off, her eyes finding mine as she asked a question I couldn’t hear.

I frowned. “Is that how what?”

She held my gaze for another beat, then her lips curled down as well. “Can you not, uh, hear me?”

“I’m hearing you just fine.”

“No, I mean…” She made a quick gesture at her head.

Oh. You mean in your mind? I wondered, engaging our link.

She continued to stare at me.

Can you not hear me? I asked.

Nothing.

“Hmm.” I released her hand to wrap my arm around her back and steered her into the ballroom, not wanting anyone to notice our hesitation.

She followed my lead, moving effortlessly alongside me through the mass of red-clad and black-clad attendees. It was the same theme every year—women in red, men in black. I would have remarked on how cliché that was for vampire-like fae, but I suspected there was a reason that humans frequently associated the colors with creatures of the night.

Gold and red decor adorned the walls, as well as a variety of torches and candles. All of them held real fire, as did the chandeliers overhead.

Gargoyles walked around with trays, offering drinks.

The tables were finished with black silk.

And the stage at the front contained a throne in the middle of several other ornate chairs, each one representing a Councilman or a progeny.

I forced smiles as we meandered along, not stopping to talk to anyone and instead plucking two blood-infused red wines from a passing tray. I handed one to Aflora and kept the other for myself, then led her to one of the tables near the back. Other couples had behaved similarly, everyone wanting to select an optimal seat for tonight’s event.

Because this was no ordinary gala.

It was more of a theater production, all meant to honor the current political regime.

There would be mingling and talking over wine.

Then a grand entrance from the Midnight Fae Council, including all second-in-command reps and any progenies.

And then the real party would begin, led by Malik Nacht.

A tale would be woven through the air, accompanied by magical charades as they acted out the scenes with fiery figments.

Following the inaccurate portrayal of our history would be toasts and charming words from each power player, the last coming from the Elite Blood King.

I suspected Prince Kolstov would be forced to speak tonight.

I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say about all this, particularly as he’d mated a Quandary Blood this year.

Aflora cleared her throat, her eyebrow arching. “Why can’t we hear each other?” she asked in a soft voice.

I set my wine down and reached over to stroke her necklace. “This really is lovely, dear,” I said, hoping she caught the insinuation in my offhanded comment. I wasn’t ignoring her; I was answering her. Or at least