Page 32 of Empress of Ruin
“Lyra’s been traveling for a while. I’d never restrict her freedom, but we’ve maintained our relationship,” I lie smoothly.
Vlad’s wife tenses a touch at the mention of freedom. Not surprising, since I’m sure he keeps her locked up most times and under close observation when she’s out.
“I see. Well, I’m sure you’re quite thrilled to have yourgirlfriendback.” Vlad arches a challenging eyebrow. Girlfriends are not considered permanent significant others in our world,and therefore, not considered valuable enough to start fights or kill people over. “Enjoy your evening.” He and his wife flit away.
“I don’t like him,” Lyra whispers.
“Then you have good instincts.” At the end of this ordeal, depending on how things go, I just might end up having to kill Vlad alongside Silas.
The next person to approach us is Carter, which is expected. He enjoys stirring the pot at every opportunity he gets. If there was money in the business of shit-stirring, he’d do it for a living. Though, I suppose playing around in the mafia is the equivalent.
“Lyra,” he purrs. “I’ve missed seeing such a friendly face at these insufferable events. How was your time abroad?”
She swallows. “Quite enjoyable.”
“I’msoglad to hear it.” Carter’s really laying it on thick. He knows she ran away from me; he’s the one who tipped me off to where I’d find her. “I know Killian wassoeager to get you back. It’s so fortunate that he found you at that graveyard—seems you’d forgotten to tell him you were coming back.”
I tense. Lyra tenses. Carter smiles.Motherfucker. He just couldn’t hold back even for a single day, could he?
The idea of fucking with his business dealings is growing more and more appealing by the goddamnsecond. Maybe Ishouldlegitimately fuck with him, since he seems to be taking great pleasure in fucking with me.
“If you’ll excuse use,” I say shortly. “I believe it’s time for a dance.”
“Of course.” Carter smiles at Lyra, still ignoring me.Why is he fixated on her?“Do tell your friend hello for me.”
We all know who he’s speaking of, but Lyra’s next words land a punch to my gut. “I don’t have any friends,” she says solemnly… and concern flares to life in my chest. She doesn’t sound upset; merely factual, as if she’s accepted her fate of being entirely alone in the world.
That’s something we’ll need to work on.
“Come.” I move my hold from her hip to her hand and lead her away from Carter. We melt onto the dance floor, joining the other couples in a simple waltz.
“What the fuck does he want with Anna?” Lyra hisses.
“None of our business.” None ofherbusiness. In my book, Anna may yet turn out to be leverage. I hope it doesn’t come to that.
“It’s my business—”
“No, it’s not. Trust me when I tell you, Carter is not a man you want to fuck with.” My tone is severe enough that Lyra shuts up, but that flare is back in her eyes. I find that I enjoy it. I don’t like the dimness that’s clouded her of late.
One dance turns into two, then three. Lyra moves a bit awkwardly, obviously unpracticed, but at least she follows my lead. Besides, I don’t need her to dance well—I need us to be seen together, and we are. Every Eyes member here casts us glances that I track. Murmurs start up. I haven’t been in the public eye very much the last several months, which lends believability to my cover story. Now, I’m back, with my beautiful woman in my arms.
After the third dance, the orchestra pauses for a break. People start leaving the dance floor to get refreshments. Lyra also tries to move, but I tighten my grip on her, keeping her in place. We attract the necessary attention by remaining, locked in an embrace, while others flit away.
When I feel enough curious eyes on her, I brush a hand over her cheek and don an affectionate smile, angling my body so only she can see my warning glare.Go with it, my eyes scream.
Then, I release her, reach my hand into my pocket to withdraw a black velvet box, and slowly lower myself to one knee.
Chapter Thirteen
Lyra
No. No, no, no, no, no, no,no.
That’s the only thing I can think as Killian cracks open the box, revealing a stunning diamond with blinding clarity, set in a platinum band that’s been beautifully shaped to look like a collection of vines. Little multicolored gems stud either side of diamond, haloing it.
It’s a beautiful ring. It’s one that might’ve caught my eye had I seen it in a window display. But I don’t pay attention to the beauty; I don’t see it as an offering. I see it as a tiny handcuff.
Why would Killian do this to me here?Except the answer is obvious; he wants to be seen, and he doesn’t have enough regard formyemotions and mental state to be more reasonable, or at least have the decency to forewarn me that I’d be dealing withthislevel of insanity tonight.
