From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 160

Chapter 160

Truthfully, I haven’t heard from Walter since my visit, nor have I tried to visit again. I’ve been too busy training with Abraxas and practicing with Atarothz at dawn. Silence settles in the carriage, and I don’t know if it’s the jolting or accumulated fatigue, but I feel dizzy–and starving. Famished.

I hear the horses neigh as they’re reined in, and the carriage door opens immediately. Ciro gestures for me to exit first. I haven’t yet set foot on the step when a scarred hand offers to help me. I examine the hand first, tracing all the scars with my eyes, then follow the arm upward until I meet an unfamiliar face. I’ve never seen eyes so pale green. The rest is just as striking: sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, full lips, a nose that looks like it’s been broken, and a scar through one eyebrow that contrasts slightly with his ivory skin. Far from diminishing his appeal, it enhances it. The whole image is utterly captivating.

“Abraxas will stay close in case you need him,” Ciro’s voice announces behind me.

I look again at those eyes–not only are they incredibly green, but they shine. Shine with life, something I’ve never seen in Abraxas’s eyes until now.

“This is Abraxas?”

Both brothers let out low chuckles.

“So you’ve been toying with Elara, huh?” Ciro murmurs so softly that if I were human, I wouldn’t have heard it.

I’m still stunned. Abraxas does a good job ignoring my expression of shock and, with a sly smile, vanishes, pulling a hood over his head.

“He doesn’t like to attract attention.”

“I don’t think the hood helps much with that,” I comment.

“Don’t worry. He knows how to remain in the shadows.”

Yes, I’m sure he does, I think.

I walk into the mansion on Ciro’s arm. I should be used to this setting by now, having seen it more than once. Naked or half–naked women are everywhere, just like the jugs and fountains of blood where the bolder ones don’t hesitate to dip a finger and raise it to their mouths with ecstatic expressions. From the ceiling hang red silk ribbons, and women I immediately recognize as human dance and sway sensually upon them. Everyone at the party is clustered in little groups and doesn’t hesitate to whisper when they see us enter.

I doubt I’ll ever get used to that part.

No one needs to tell me–Cassian is here. I can feel his presence all over my skin.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

I arch a brow, half curious, half teasing,

“Are you sure there’s something I can drink?”

“You’re not the only human here, remember?”

He winks and walks off to speak to someone I assume is a servant, who nods repeatedly before hurrying away.

You look absolutely exquisite.

I try to suppress the smile forming on my lips.

Isn’t that something you say about food?

I think I’ve devoured you more than once–your lips, your neck, and a little further down… those lips too….

My cheeks burn. I can feel his voice purring inside my head, like he’s toying with the threads in my mind, stroking them until I shudder.

Where are you?

Behind you. He picks up on my intent immediately. Don’t turn around–I’ve got a wonderful view from here.

I’m wearing a dress. You can’t possibly see anything.

1/3

4:42 PM

Chapter 160

家

I see the full curve of your back, that pale, delicate skin I’d mark with my lips and teeth if I could right now, and oh, the promise of a perfect ass. I’d say I see more than enough.

If I thought my cheeks were burning before, it’s nothing compared to now. I’m sure I’ll burst into flames any second.

Ciro’s hand keeps me grounded, snapping me back to reality. He presents me with what looks like a bubbling glass of champagne. I take it by the stem and wet my lips under his pleased gaze.

It doesn’t take long before he speaks again.

“How about a dance?” He looks at me with hopeful eyes. “I think it’s a better idea than standing around getting stared at, don’t you think?”

“Honestly, I’m tired of all those stares.”

“Then let’s go.”

I slide my hand onto his, and we glide elegantly toward the center, where other couples are dancing far more wildly. In the back of my mind, I feel Cassian’s fingers brushing and a low animalistic growl. I try to mentally shush him—not that it’ll work. I can feel his gaze scorching the back of my neck.

Ciro is an excellent dancer–every step full of grace and precision—and I hear the huffs of some women watching him dreamily and me with murderous eyes.

“You’re very popular among the ladies,” I say.

“You know why,” he replies, not even glancing at them. “It means nothing to me. Those aren’t the gazes I want.”

“What do you mean?”

He twirls us across the floor, his hands firm on my waist and my arms around his neck. The aerial dancers move around us like part of a dream.

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