What the hell was he thinking?I thought furiously.
Refusing to go along with the Bloodweaver’s scheme risked revealing our deception outright. But what Casimir didn’t know—what I had intentionally concealed from him—was the last piece of my bargain, the favor that Evren was now calling in.
The guilt I felt for lying to Casimir was overshadowed by a sudden, burning pain in the rune on my arm: a warning that denying Evren his favor would mean severe magical consequences.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I reassured Casimir, once again trying to wriggle out of his hold. “You can trust me.” I wondered if he knew how bitterly the lie tasted falling from my lips.
Several of the dancers cast curious glances our way, goggling at the two men staring one another down, probably assuming I was at the center of some twisted romantic quarrel.
Casimir spoke through clenched teeth. “If you harm her, I will ensure that you never wake to see another sunrise.”
The Bloodweaver’s returning smile was full of poison. “Is that a threat, Darkseer?”
Casimir bore down on him, his face mere inches from Evren’s, making him flinch at the violence in his gaze. “It’s a promise,” he said softly.
Evren snorted. “I’d like to see you try.Now, girl.”
Reluctantly, Casimir let me go. He watched with fear and resentment burning in his gaze as Evren dragged me by the arm from the ballroom and into an alcove.
“You didn’t think I’d forget about your debt, did you?” he asked in that mocking tone.
Seething with fear and fury in equal measure, I remained silent.
Evren shot me a cruel smirk and withdrew a small vial containing a dark, viscous liquid that looked horrifically like blood.
“Make sure the Darkseer drinks this in the next ten minutes. And remember, girl,” he added, his fingers digging into my forearm hard enough to bruise. “There will be consequences if you fail to uphold your end of the deal.”
My fingers curled around the vial, shaking with nerves. “Whatever’s in this—it won’t kill him, right?”
Evren chuckled darkly. “It won’t kill him. As long as you do what you’re told.”
I nodded, fearing I might be sick if I tried to reply.
Evren jerked his head, releasing me. I all but ran back into the ballroom and found Casimir waiting for me, his lips pressed thin in barely contained rage, his eyes storming. I realized that I was breathing heavily, my hair sticking to the sweat coating my bare back. Wordlessly, Casimir took my hand and dragged me to the far end of the ballroom, shoving several disgruntled guests out of our way in the process.
His eyes searched my body for signs of damage. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Did he?—?”
I nodded.
“And he—they bought your performance?” His tone was skeptical.
“Yes, I gave a convincing show.” I gazed up at him, my eyes begging him not to believe me. The vial burned against my skin in my dress pocket.
Casimir gave a stiff nod and frowned. “I don’t like this.”
“I don’t like it either.” My stomach was a rat’s nest of guilt and shame. Why did lying to Casimir feel worse than lying to anyone else?
Make sure the Darkseer drinks this in the next ten minutes. I felt the compulsion of the magic stirring under my skin. Make him drink it. So much like Devereaux’s glamour, the pull of Evren’s bargain was so powerful that ignoring it felt almost painful.
My smile wavered as I looked into Casimir’s eyes. “I’ll get us some drinks,” I suggested. “Wait here.”
The magic steered me toward a table towering with bubbling champagne. I plucked two glasses from the top. With trembling fingers, I unstoppered the vial and emptied the dark contents into a glass, my back to the room to conceal what I was doing. As it made contact with the alcohol, the blood-red potion vanished. I sniffed at the glass. There was no scent. Undetectable.
I’d spiked Casimir’s drink.