of victories!” Flynn slapped Tobias on the back. “To think, the Artist, blessed by The Savior.”
“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Raphael gave Tobias a skeptical once-over. “Why would Cosima want you to win after you failed to give Her a gift?”
“Perhaps it’s his looks,” Orion said. “Tobias is handsome, is he not?”
“Perhaps She simply didn’t want to marry Antaeus,” Flynn scoffed. “I mean, what woman wants a Beast for a husband?”
Orion shrugged. “Some women like beasts.”
“No they don’t. They like nobles. Men of charm and class with perfect teeth, chiseled builds, and ample experience."
Raphael rolled his eyes. “You’re describing yourself, Flynn.”
“I can’t help it if I’m what women like.” Flynn winked.
A plate appeared in front of Tobias, and he tore into it, eager to fill his bottomless stomach. He deadened himself to the world around him, to everything but his ravenous hunger—until a black cloak swept through the room.
Leila.
She was a vision of softness amid a horde of stink and belligerence, her deep-plum dress and dark locks perfectly juxtaposing her skin. Their eyes locked, the world around Tobias a blur—until he realized he was frozen mid-gnaw, his goose leg wedged between his teeth. God, I must look like a savage. He dropped the leg and wiped his lips, but his gaze never left Leila, her hair, her hips.
“You want more?”
Tobias flinched. Flynn stared at him, his eyes large and intruding.
“Come again?”
“Do you want more?” Flynn pointed at Tobias’s chalice. “It’s empty.”
“It’s empty because I never filled it in the first place.”
Flynn swatted his arm, rambling some reprimand while filling his chalice, but Tobias wasn’t listening. Leila rounded Pippa, giving her a sweet squeeze—God, I wish I were Pippa—and when she looked back at him over her shoulder, his heart thumped in response. She glided off through the sanctuary, weaving among the tents, and Tobias stood and followed.
“Where are you going?”
Flynn’s words faded behind him. The hem of Leila’s cloak zigzagged between the tents, and just when he nearly caught up to her, a man staggered in front of him.
“Artist!” Caesar beamed. “The man of the hour!”
Tobias peered around Caesar, searching for Leila, but Caesar poked his head back into his line of vision. “Apologies, brother, for nominating you in the fight. You understand, yes?”
Tobias grimaced. “Of course I understand. Cowardice isn’t a difficult concept to grasp.”
Caesar’s face dropped, and Tobias shouldered past him, continuing through the slew of tents. Dammit, he had lost Leila, but he vaguely remembered where her tent was located—at the far end of the sanctuary, away from the celebration. He spotted it and barreled inside.
“Oh God.”
This was certainly not Leila’s tent. Enzo sat in a chair in the back corner, and Zander knelt in front of him, his head bobbing up and down in Enzo’s lap, his lips wrapped around Enzo’s—
“Fucking cock!” Enzo barked.
Zander spun around, gaping. “Tobias…”
“Apologies. Wrong tent.” Tobias’s face burned. “Oh God.”
He darted from the tent, eager to be somewhere, anywhere but there. Feet clomped behind him; Enzo chased after him, hoisting his pants up over his hips.
“Artist.”
“Apologies, I’m leaving—”
Seizing his shoulder, Enzo spun him around and slammed his back against the wall. “I will snap neck.” He leaned into Tobias. “I will break face with my hands.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You lie.”
“I didn’t see anything,” Tobias said. “If anyone asks, I saw nothing. Do you understand? The two of you were just talking, or sleeping, or—”
“I could kill you now.” Enzo grabbed his throat. “Make this very simple.”
Tobias clawed at Enzo’s hand, but the man kept firm, tightening his grip. Away. The clay still marked Tobias’s chest, yet he remained pinned in place, the blessing unresponsive to his bidding. Dammit.
“This stays between us,” he croaked. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell a tale—one I’m failing to devise right now, as I’m a bit preoccupied by the thought of death.”
Enzo shoved him into the brick, sending new pains splintering through his body. Resisting the urge to wince, Tobias looked him in the eye. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but do it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not a beast. You’re a good man. And you wouldn’t kill without rightful purpose.”
Enzo’s slate eyes were searing, his fingers digging into Tobias’s throat.
“It stays between us,” Tobias said.
Enzo went still—then released his grip, sending Tobias curling forward, sucking in a deep breath.
“One word,” Enzo growled, “and I break face.”
He abandoned Tobias, heading back to his tent.
Tobias took a moment to steady himself, erasing the altercation from his mind. What was I doing again? Oh right, Leila. He shuffled