Page 30 of Kiss of Embers

Nine

ZARA

The clearing buzzed with conversation. I stood on the crowd’s edge with Drute at my side and nerves churning in my gut. The muggy night air hung over the gathering like a blanket. Fog huddled on the ground, and crickets and other insects filled the surrounding jungle with their songs. The big moment had arrived, and now everyone waited for Bolveg and the Rules Committee to announce whether the dragons and I were allowed to compete in the Games.

But dusk had come and gone an hour ago, and the demons had yet to make an appearance. After a sleepless night and an entire day of worry, my status in the Games remained in limbo.

“What’s taking so long?” I muttered, my gaze on the empty platform. Fatigue tugged at me, exacerbating the anxiety that had kept me on edge since I gave up on sleeping and dragged myself from bed.

Drute glanced at me before returning his gaze to the sea of immortals. “Some of the vampires complained about the sunlight yesterday. I expect Bolveg decided to play it safe tonight.”

Maybe. Or maybe the demon was putting the finishing touches on his speech to throw me and the dragons out of the Games.

Pressing my damp palms to my cargo pants, I swept a gaze around the clearing. Like the demons, Struan and Finn were nowhere to be found. Not that I’d tried to find them. After the scene I’d witnessed in their tent, I’d raced back to camp and gone straight to bed.

But sleep had eluded me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw things I was never meant to see. Struan kneeling before Finn, his nude body corded with muscle in the moonlight. Finn gripping Struan’s hair as he pumped into Struan’s mouth. Struan’s tight buttocks flexing as he thrust into Finn from behind.

The last had come as a shock. At every moment of the riveting, passion-laden scene, Finn had been fully, undeniably in charge. He’d been mesmerizing to watch, his voice snapping with power even as he spoke just above a whisper. And Struan had obeyed every word.

Then the balance of power had shifted, and Struan had become the aggressor. Although, that wasn’t quite right. He’d…taken Finn, yes, but he hadn’t taken control.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I was grateful for the cloud cover that kept the moonlight from illuminating my face. I’d grown up hearing that dragons were polyamorous. That they devoted themselves to their mates both male and female. But devotion was too mild a word for what transpired between Struan and Finn. I didn’t consider myself a prude by any stretch, but nothing could have prepared me for the passion I’d witnessed.

And I had to wonder, was there even room for a woman between them? As if I’d conjured it, Drute’s warning ran through my head.“If the dragons truly believe you’re their female, theywon’t rest until they claim you. But this could just as easily be a ruse on their part.”

After what I’d seen, it wasn’t an outlandish idea. Possibly, all this talk of claiming was just another strategy for winning the elixir. On the other hand, Struan and Finn had jeopardized their own participation in the Games by declaring me theirs. Was it worth riling the Rules Committee on the slim chance the demons would toss me and no one else?

But maybe I wasn’t seeing the full picture. People who won the Games tended to play dirty.

The noise in the clearing swelled, jerking me from my swirling thoughts. A prickling awareness made me turn my head—and lock gazes with Brader on the other side of the clearing.

I tensed, anger swiftly replacing my embarrassment. I’d fully expected him to show up outside my tent at some point during the day. But he hadn’t. Maybe he was smarter than I thought.

Brader stared, his handsome features creased in a frown.

Don’t come over here. Don’t come over here.

He started forward. Okay, so he wasn’t smarter than I thought.

My wolf shot to the surface, and more tension knotted my shoulders. Drute spoke under his breath as we watched Brader approach.

“Calm, Zara. The last thing you need is an ugly scene right before the demons show up.”

“Then let’s hope Brader doesn’t make one,” I muttered.

Brader moved through the crowd, nodding to the occasional witch or fae. When another werewolf attempted to engage him in conversation, he patted the man’s shoulder and kept coming. I held myself rigid as more than one pair of eyes followed Brader’s progress. Whispers rippled through the crowd. A moment later, Brader stopped in front of me.

“Zara,” he said, his frown still firmly in place. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

Mindful of our audience, I kept my tone neutral. “If only you’d done that before you left Maine.”

Drute didn’t quite manage to smother his groan.

Brader’s jaw tightened. He cast a swift look around before stepping closer. “I deserved that. But I’ve always believed that late is better than never. Well, I had plenty of time to think after you walked away last night. I apologize for what happened, and for joining the Games without telling you.” He paused, and I could almost feel the people around us leaning in as they tried to listen.

The frown left Brader’s eyes, and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a little smile the younger women in the pack never stopped talking about. I couldn’t blame them. It was an effective smile—one I’d been charmed by once upon a time.

“I was an idiot,” he said. Then he waited, his smile in place.