The boy smiled, and it sent a chill down my spine. This wasn’t a normal smile. There was no joy or humor in it, but there was nothing else either. It was a smile devoid of emotion. A mere stretching of the muscles.
Such a smile on a boy’s face was maniacal.
“Tell me, Lucien Delterre,” the boy said, staring at Lucien with that creepy smile. “How did it feel?”
I tightened my hold on Oz’s hand when Lucien spoke, now that he was given permission. “It felt like death,” he replied plainly, almost as if he was talking about the weather.
The boy’s smile widened, which made him seem far more sinister than before. “What does death feel like?”
“Pain,” Lucien responded in that same dry voice, as I swallowed hard and didn’t even blink as I stared at him. “Excruciating pain.”
There was a short pause before the boy’s smile disappeared, and he held his hands behind his back, beginning to descend the stairs. Seeing him drawing slowly closer to Lucien made my horror rise impossibly higher.
“The Mathenio is a mysterious power,” the boy said as he descended one stair, then another. “Once in every few centuries, a Fae is born with that power, you see.”
The boy reached the end of the flight of stairs and stood mere inches away from Lucien, who glanced down without tilting his head forward. The boy took notice of it, I could tell, because a sudden light entered his eyes.
“The interesting thing about the Mathenio, however, is that this time, no Fae was born with it,” the boy continued as he passed by Lucien, approaching Teya, who, like Lucien, kept her head straight while glancing down at the boy. “So I wondered if the effects were the same.”
And if I went by his previous smile, whatever this Mathenio and its effects were, they were the same. Which made me wonder—if a Fae wasn’t born with this power, whatever it was, then who, or rather,what, was?
The boy raised his hand suddenly and twirled a strand of Teya’s waist-long platinum hair. Teya visibly tensed, but she said nothing, and did nothing, as the boy played with her hair. “You have Fae heritage,” the boy claimed now, staring at Teya. “Who was it?”
Teya’s response was said in a tight, terse voice. “Great-great-grandmother. Thalira of Morn.”
“Ah,” the boy said, eyes widening—again, without emotions, just as if to mimic a human’s expression. “I heard of her defection a long time ago.” He paused, cocking his head. “Is she still alive?”
Teya gave a sharp nod.
The boy hummed, contemplating something, before he let go of Teya’s hair and moved to Blaise. I could see Teya’s shoulders relax, though she was still tense and on alert.
Blaise didn’t move as the boy sized him up. To my surprise, he said nothing and walked around Blaise to reach Oz and me.
I was sweating and trying to gasp for air as quietly as I could the entire time, and when the boy drew close, I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore. It was as if the boy had an aura of pure suffocating malice, so much so I could barely remain standing.
But Oz’s grip was tight, and I clung on to it, thinking about it only, to try and keep still.
The boy gave Oz a once-over and seemed to dismiss him before his violet eyes landed on me.
Something bizarre happened just then.
The boy put his arms around my waist, barely reaching there, too, and hugged me.
I couldn’t move. Could hardly even breathe. I dug my nails into Oz’s palm, but he didn’t flinch and held my hand still, as if he knew that if he let go, I would crumble.
Because the boy’s hug felt like being caged inside Pandora’s box.
“Drew Colter, the Alpha wolf’s human savior,” the boy said now, tightening his hug. My eyes snapped to see Lucien staring at me with the color drained from his face. “How interesting that it wasyouwho disrupted Mack Page’s plans.”
My heart stopped.
What did he mean byinteresting?
He leaned back but didn’t let me go, his hands holding the hem of my shirt. I glanced down at him, meeting his wicked violet stare, and felt my sight swarming, as though I was on the verge of passing out.
“I tried to warn you,” he said, and as if by magic, my nausea, my weak state, and everything else disappeared. It was like the boy flipped a switch. I could let go of Oz’s hand now, which I did, and remain standing without fearing falling to my knees.
The boy smiled again, that strange, sinister smile, and released my shirt as he stepped back to take me in. “I didn’t want you to get involved,” he said, his gaze sharpening. “Especially after my people looked through your apartment and found what it is you do for a living.”