Page 109 of Threaded
Not that she truly minded their presence; all those in that room with her, both those Selected for her and those she’d chosen for herself, made her feel more comfortable than she’d felt since the night she’d drank too much whiskey with her family around a campfire in the quiet of the Ivory Forest.
Then, of course, there washim.
She refused to acknowledge him as he lurked in the shadows of one of the pillars at the edge of the living room. But she could feel his cold, tanzanite gaze on her, following her pacing steps as she worked her way through the events in the game park yesterday.
The silver woman, the same from the balcony at thePorofirat, running from guards in Shawth’s livery.
The confession Andrian spat at her through clenched teeth. His possessiveness, his claiming, the all-consuming hunger written across his face.
Thatkiss.
She couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down her spine, curling her toes and tightening her hands into fists.
Mariah stopped her pacing and fanned her gaze over the other’s, momentarily snagging on Trefor, who sat on the couch closest to the windows and where she currently stood. His closely cropped hair was so pale it was almost white, and as she met his sea-green gaze, a grin burst across his face that nearly cracked her in half and had her giggling in return.
They’d bonded last night. She could feel that new bridge between their souls, beside the other four, his like gentle ocean waves, playful and restless. He was one of her youngest Armature, right alongside Matheo at twenty-seven, yet the bonding ceremony had felt so …platonic. Whatever reaction Sebastian had pulled from her during that first bonding hadn’t replicated itself as intensely with the others. Or, perhaps it was only because she now knew what to expect, how to build the bridge between their minds without losing herself in the process.
Either way, she was glad. While the version of herself who’d run wild through the streets of Andburgh since her eighteenth birthday, desperate for freedom and autonomy and justsomethingto make her feel like she was truly the one in control of her own life, would’ve gladly taken anything her warrior Armature would give her, the person she was now …
It shocked her how much she’d changed in just a few short months.
Maybe it was because she’d become too fucked up by a dark-haired devil with shadows beneath his skin.
The continued feel of Trefor’s stare on her pulled her back from her darkening thoughts. He was so full of light, of warmth, the opposite of Andrian in every way.
Down his bond, Mariah could almost feel the words dancing on his tongue. Finally, he spoke.
“Just so I understand … why is apologizing to him completely off the table again?”
Mariah froze, her gaze turning molten.
“Trefor, I think if you weren’t already bonded to me, I would chuck you off the balcony for that.”
Twin tanzanite flames bore a hole into her back.
She ignored them.
Trefor went pale at her words, and Mariah felt immediate regret; he was too kind, too understanding. He didn’t understand her plight with these lords. At least … he didn’t understandyet.
She spoke before he could. “But I think you’d be far too much of a hassle to replace at this point.” She sighed. “Just … trust me when I say that what he said doesn’t warrant any apology from me.Ever.”
Mariah remembered that Trefor, who’d been stationed away along the edges of the throne room the night of thePorofirat, likely hadn’t even heard the words exchanged between Lord Donnet, Mariah, and Andrian. He’d seen the commotion occur, sure; had seen Andrian draw his knife and elicit a sliver of blood from the lord’s neck. But he’d not been privy to the words that caused the night to disintegrate into confusing chaos.
There was a moment of silence as the group processed Mariah’s words before a flash of red hair in the midday sun drew her attention. Quentin leaned forward where he sat on the couch, running a hand through his flaming shock of hair, a cocky smirk on his face, and proceeded to break the tension in the air in a way only he could.
“So, those two Kreah girls. They’re hot, right?”
Mariah only slumped her chin against her chest and heaved a sigh. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sebastian pick up one of the many pillows from the couch and fling it across the space, hitting Quentin squarely on the side of the head. Disgruntled noises rose in response from Quentin’s side of the couch, but he quieted and his face returned to his usual grin when he caught Matheo’s eye.
Matheo, who’d stood on the dais behind Mariah when the Kreah party was being introduced. Who, besides Sebastian and Andrian, had gotten perhaps the best look at Kiira and Rylla as they’d formally introduced themselves to Mariah and Ryenne. Mariah didn’t miss the smirk that spread over Matheo’s face. Nor did she miss the wink he cast in Quentin’s direction as he nodded, just once, as if trying to send a subtle response to Quentin’s question.
A frustrated sound ripped from her chest, something between a growl and a groan.
“Can you all please keep your dicks in your pants for more than five seconds?”
That voice immediately sent ice rushing through Mariah’s veins.
“Well, that depends, Mr. Broody,” Ciana responded, twisting in her seat to face Andrian where he still sulked in the shadows. “We will only if you can.”