Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,96

to, feelings I’m unused to experiencing. Revna put aside her anger, pain, and need for revenge for me, knowing I need her support to get through this, even if I didn’t know it myself. Loyalty, my mind whispers to me. She may be here to support me, but being here is also hurting her, knowing that her sister suffered in this place. She needs me too, and perhaps we can both get answers.

Glancing at Vaeril, I stroke our bond and release myself from his hold. Placing my now free hand on Eldrin’s arm, I glance up at my scarred elf and ask him to trust me with my eyes before sliding my arm from his. His expression tightens, but he doesn’t stop me. With a slight tilt of my head, I motion for them to follow me. Slowly, I walk to my aunt’s side, knowing without having to check that my elves are following closely behind me. Reaching Revna, I ignore the king and hold out my hand to her, praying to the Mother it stays steady.

“Come,” I call softly. To the king, it may sound like an order, but as she drags her gaze from her sister’s killer, I see the gratitude in her eyes as I give her a way out. Dipping her head slightly, she takes my hand. I link her arm with mine, turn away from the king, and start walking towards the steward, who’s still waiting by the doors.

With my aunt at my side and my mates close by, I stride into the home of my enemy. The last time I was here, I was no better than a prisoner, an ex-slave. Could we be walking into a trap? Possibly. I know there will be no easy way to get out of this. This time, I hold the power because I have something the king wants. I just have to pray it’s enough.

The knock on the door brings a sense of relief. I’ve been dreading this moment, but I can finally get it over with. The anticipation of the event is almost worse, going over what could happen again and again, and it’s pointless. I’m just making myself worry about things I have no control over. I just need to trust in the Mother and believe I am strong enough both mentally and physically to cope with whatever we are faced with tonight.

Once we arrived in our ridiculously assigned, large, opulent suites, we actually did as the king suggested and rested. I suspect I will need my energy tonight. In the main bedroom of my suite, I found a dress that had been left out for me courtesy of the king. My mates hadn’t liked it, in fact, they hated it. It’s a beautiful dress, but unlike my previous gowns with tight bodices and flaring skirts, this is different from anything I’ve ever worn before.

It’s a deep purple lace, and the top has a form-fitting bodice with a deep V-neckline. My bust is small from years of starvation, although it has recently started to fill out, thanks to proper meals, but this makes me look womanly, giving me curves in all the right places. Fitted lace sleeves end at my elbows, showing off all my slave marks and tattoos. The fabric hugs my hips and falls in a waterfall of material with one large slit up to my knee on the left of the skirt.

Ignoring the low growls of the two elves in the room, I roll my eyes and push up from my chair to answer the door when no one else moves to do so, the fabric of my dress swishing behind me as I go. Turning the handle, I open the door to find Naril, who freezes when he sees me.

Shaking himself from his stupor, he raises an eyebrow as he looks me up and down. “That’s what you’re wearing?” His tone is light and has a note of humour in it, but I can tell from the tension in his jaw and the slight furrow between his brows that he’s trying to hide his concern. That’s what worries me more than anything. I can cope with Naril’s teases and censure, but when he’s serious, that’s when I know I need to be troubled.

“It was a gift from the king, I couldn’t really refuse it,” I defend, but I’m now wondering if I made the right choice and if my mates weren’t just uncomfortable because of how tight the dress was. However,