Chapter Two: Terms of Engagement

Amelia knew when she was being watched.

It was one of the first things Lucien had taught her.

Not how to fight.

Not how to scream.

Not even how to run.

How to know when someone was watching.

Your instincts will recognize danger before your mind does, he’d told her when she was eleven. Listen to them.

At the moment, Amelia’s instincts were telling her that someone had been staring at the back of her head for the better part of five minutes.

She continued eating her strawberry.

“He’s still looking, isn’t he?”

Across from her, Elara didn’t bother looking up.

“Which one?”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed.

“There’s more than one?”

That earned her Elara’s attention.

Her handmaiden slowly lowered her teacup.

“Oh, Your Highness.”

“Don’t.”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Elara smiled.

Amelia hated that smile.

She glanced around Helix’s Upper Dining Hall.

It hardly resembled a school cafeteria.

The original Helix Academy had been constructed more than two hundred years ago, long before supernatural society revealed itself to humans, and apparently whoever designed it believed teenagers required cathedral ceilings, marble columns and enormous arched windows merely to consume lunch.

Long tables stretched throughout the room.

Species no longer officially segregated themselves.

Unofficially?

That was another matter entirely.

The werewolves had claimed three tables near the western windows.

Most of the fae occupied the elevated section overlooking the gardens.

Vampires preferred the darker eastern wall.

Witches seemed to sit wherever they pleased.

The handful of humans enrolled in Helix’s integration programs had wisely gathered near one another.

And Amelia—

Well.

Amelia had a table.

Not because she’d asked for one.

She’d arrived to find it waiting.

Of course she had.

Her court occupied the surrounding seats. Two security officers stood near the doors. Lucien was somewhere nearby, though Amelia couldn’t currently see him.

That meant nothing.

Lucien was always nearby.

Amelia took another bite of her strawberry.

“Who?”

Elara leaned slightly forward.

“The wolf.”

Amelia’s chewing slowed.

She did not look.

“Dante Lennox?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“He’s probably staring because I embarrassed him.”

“You did not embarrass him.”

“He didn’t bow.”

“You antagonized him.”

“He deserved it.”

“And now he’s staring at you.”

Amelia placed the strawberry down.

“I don’t care.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t.”

“Naturally.”

“Elara.”

“Amelia.”

Amelia’s mouth fell open.

Elara smiled sweetly.

There were very few people alive who could address the future Siren Queen by her first name without permission.

Elara had long ago decided she was one of them.

Amelia loved her for it.

Mostly.

She reached for another strawberry.

“And the other?”

“Felix Ashford.”

Amelia nearly dropped it.

“Both of them?”

This time Elara laughed.

“Quiet!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are absolutely not.”

“No.”

Amelia fought the ridiculous urge to turn around.

She lost.

Only slightly.

She shifted enough to glance toward the western side of the dining hall.

Dante was there.

And he was looking directly at her.

Amelia immediately turned back.

Her heart kicked.

“Oh.”

Elara’s eyebrows rose.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your cheeks are pink.”

“They are not.”

“They are.”

“I’m warm.”

“You’re a siren.”

Amelia glared at her.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You practically swim in freezing ocean water for entertainment.”

“Elara.”

“Your Highness.”

Amelia picked up her water.

This was ridiculous.

Men had looked at her before.

Boys had looked at her practically her entire life.

Princes.

Heirs.

Sons of diplomats.

Children of wealthy supernatural families whose mothers had somehow managed to place them beside Amelia at every royal function since she turned sixteen.

She knew what attention looked like.

She knew what men wanted when they looked at Princess Amelia Corvo.

Her name.

Her bloodline.

Her crown.

Her father’s approval.

Her family’s fortune.

Sometimes all four.

Her father had made certain she understood that.

There will be men who tell you that you’re beautiful, little pearl.

She remembered sitting beside him in the royal gardens when she was fourteen.

You are.

She’d rolled her eyes.

Alexander had tapped the tip of her nose.

But some men will tell you because they want something.

“How will I know the difference?”

Her father’s expression had changed.

Just slightly.

Time.

She hadn’t understood.

“Time?”

Anyone can pretend for a little while. Very few people can pretend forever.

Amelia looked down at her plate.

She wondered whether her father remembered saying it.

Probably.

Alexander Corvo remembered everything.

Especially when it concerned her.

“You’re thinking about your father.”

Amelia looked at Elara.

“How do you do that?”

“I know you.”

“That’s frightening.”

“It should be.”

Amelia smiled.

Then a shadow fell across the table.

Every member of her court went silent.

Elara’s expression flattened.

Amelia looked up.

Felix Ashford stood beside her.

Up close, he was somehow even more offensively attractive.

His hair wasn’t black, she realized.

Dark brown.

Nearly black, but when sunlight spilled through the windows, warmer strands appeared underneath.

His eyes were strange.

Gold.

Not metaphorically.

Actually gold.

Fae.

Amelia had met plenty of them before, but she’d never particularly understood why people became so ridiculous around them.

Now she did.

A little.

Felix smiled.

“Princess.”

Amelia stared at him.

He waited.

She waited.

His smile faltered by approximately half a centimeter.

Amelia enjoyed that.

“Lord Ashford.”

Something flickered in his eyes.

Surprise.

He hadn’t expected her to know who he was.

Interesting.

“May I?”

He gestured toward the empty chair beside her.

“No.”

Silence.

Someone at the table coughed.

Elara lowered her head.

Amelia knew perfectly well she was hiding a smile.

Felix blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You asked if you may sit.”

“I did.”

“And I said no.”

Across the dining hall, someone barked out a laugh.

Dante.

Felix’s jaw tightened.

Amelia delicately lifted her glass.

“Was there another question?”

Felix stared at her.

And then—

he laughed.

Not the polite little chuckle people gave when Amelia said something mildly amusing.

A genuine laugh.

Amelia wasn’t expecting it.

“You’re interesting.”

Her eyebrows lifted.

“And you’re interrupting my lunch.”

Another laugh came from across the room.

Felix glanced toward Dante.

His expression promised murder.

Amelia followed his gaze before she could stop herself.

Dante raised his glass toward her.

She frowned.

He winked.

Amelia’s stomach did something deeply inconvenient.

She turned back.

Felix caught it.

The amusement disappeared from his face.

Only for a second.

Then it returned.

“Very well, Princess.”

He bowed.

Properly this time.

“I’ll leave you to your strawberries.”

Amelia looked at her plate.

Then at him.

“How do you know I like strawberries?”

Felix’s eyes dropped to the three remaining berries sitting directly in front of her.

Amelia stared.

Elara made a strangled sound.

Felix’s mouth twitched.

“Wild guess.”

Amelia wanted the marble floor to swallow her.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness.”

He walked away.

She waited.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Then Elara whispered, “That went beautifully.”

“Be quiet.”

“That was painful.”

Felix dropped into the chair across from Dante.

Dante was grinning so widely Felix briefly considered breaking his jaw.

“Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You laughed.”

“Couldn’t help it.”

“She said no.”

“I heard.”

“The entire dining hall heard.”

Dante took another drink.

Felix leaned forward.

“You think you’ll do better?”

Dante shrugged.

“Couldn’t do worse.”

Felix stared at him.

Dante’s grin returned.

Felix pointed toward Amelia’s table.

“Go.”

Dante looked over.

“Now?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Because apparently you’re so charming.”

“I never said charming.”

“No. You just sat over here laughing while I walked directly into an execution.”

“You asked permission.”

Felix frowned.

“What?”

“That was your mistake.”

Felix stared.

“You intend to approach the daughter of Alexander Corvo without asking permission?”

“Yep.”

“Wonderful. I’ll notify your family.”

Dante stood.

Felix’s eyebrows rose.

“You’re actually going?”

Dante picked up an apple.

“Watch.”

Felix sat back.

This could only end well.

Amelia had almost recovered from the strawberry incident when someone took the chair beside her.

Not asked.

Took.

Amelia slowly turned.

Dante Lennox bit into an apple.

Her entire table went silent again.

Elara closed her eyes.

Amelia stared at him.

He chewed.

Swallowed.

“Hi.”

Amelia couldn’t believe him.

“Did I invite you to sit?”

“No.”

“Then why are you sitting?”

“Chair was empty.”

“It’s reserved.”

“For?”

Amelia opened her mouth.

Nothing came out.

Dante waited.

She looked toward Elara.

Traitorously, Elara became fascinated with her napkin.

Amelia looked back at Dante.

“For someone else.”

“Who?”

“Someone.”

“What’s their name?”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed.

Dante took another bite of his apple.

“You always ask this many questions?”

“Usually more.”

“How exhausting.”

His mouth twitched.

Amelia noticed.

She wished she hadn’t.

Dante Lennox wasn’t beautiful like Felix Ashford.

Felix looked like something sculpted.

Perfect features.

Perfect hair.

Perfect smile.

Dante looked—

rougher.

There was something untamed about him.

His dark hair looked as though he’d run his hands through it rather than bothered with a comb. The scar through his eyebrow should have made him less attractive.

It didn’t.

And his eyes—

Amelia hadn’t noticed them outside.

Gray.

Storm gray.

They were currently studying her with uncomfortable intensity.

His gaze moved across her face.

Her eyes.

Her nose.

Her mouth.

Then back to her eyes.

Amelia straightened.

“What?”

Dante frowned.

“Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“So were you.”

“I was not.”

“You were.”

“I was observing.”

Dante smiled.

“What’s the difference?”

“I’m a princess.”

He laughed.

Amelia’s lips parted.

Nobody laughed at her.

Not like that.

Not openly.

Not without immediately apologizing afterward.

Dante didn’t seem remotely concerned.

“Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Use the princess thing whenever you’re losing an argument?”

Amelia stared at him.

“I am not losing.”

“Sure.”

Her siren nature stirred.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No glowing eyes.

No mystical wind sweeping through the dining hall.

Just something ancient shifting beneath her skin.

Something that disliked being challenged.

Amelia leaned slightly closer.

“You’re very disrespectful, Dante Lennox.”

His eyes changed.

Barely.

The wolf heard it.

Not her words.

Her voice.

Sirens carried power differently from other supernatural species.

It lived in sound.

In cadence.

In the delicate space between one word and another.

Amelia had spent her entire life learning to control it.

She hadn’t commanded him.

Hadn’t compelled him.

But she’d allowed just enough power into his name for him to feel what she was.

Dante went still.

For the first time since he’d sat down, his arrogance disappeared.

Amelia smiled.

There.

Much better.

“You should be careful,” she said softly.

Dante’s eyes remained locked on hers.

“Was that a threat?”

“A suggestion.”

His wolf pushed close enough to the surface that Amelia could see silver flash through his irises.

Elara stiffened.

One of Amelia’s guards moved.

Amelia raised one finger beneath the table.

Stay.

Dante noticed.

Again.

His gaze returned to her face.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

He smiled.

Slowly.

Not mocking.

Not arrogant.

Interested.

“You’re not what I expected.”

Amelia’s power retreated.

“And what exactly did you expect?”

“Princess.”

She frowned.

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It is.”

Dante stood.

Amelia looked up.

He placed the untouched half of his apple on her plate.

Her mouth fell open.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Eat it.”

“You bit it!”

“Other side’s fine.”

Amelia looked genuinely horrified.

Dante laughed.

Then he walked away.

Amelia stared after him.

Then at the apple.

Then at Elara.

Elara was silent.

“Say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Your face is saying plenty.”

Elara finally looked toward the retreating werewolf.

Then back at Amelia.

“Your father is going to kill him.”

Amelia looked at the apple again.

Despite herself—

she smiled.

Dante returned to Felix’s table.

Felix stared at him.

“An apple?”

Dante sat.

“It worked.”

“You gave the Siren Princess a half-eaten apple.”

“She kept it.”

They both looked.

Amelia was arguing with Elara.

The apple remained on her plate.

Felix frowned.

“Beginner’s luck.”

Dante smiled.

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.”

“She likes me.”

“She threatened you.”

“Still counts.”

Felix rolled his eyes.

Then his gaze returned to Amelia.

Sunlight had shifted through the enormous windows.

It touched her face.

And for the first time, Felix noticed them.

Freckles.

Tiny ones.

Scattered across the bridge of her nose.

Almost invisible.

Strange.

He’d never seen a siren with freckles like that.

Then there were her eyes.

Green.

Not sea green.

Not the pale blue-green common among Corvo sirens.

Deep, vivid green.

Felix’s smile slowly disappeared.

Dante noticed.

“What?”

Felix continued staring.

“Nothing.”

“That’s your thinking face.”

“I don’t have a thinking face.”

“You do. It’s ugly.”

Felix ignored him.

There was something peculiar about Amelia Corvo.

He couldn’t place it.

Something familiar.

Not because he’d met her before.

Something else.

Something in the structure of her face.

The light around her.

The almost imperceptible shimmer beneath porcelain skin.

For one strange moment—

Felix thought of his grandmother.

Then Amelia turned away from the window.

Whatever Felix had seen disappeared.

He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

Dante leaned back.

“So.”

“So?”

“Rules.”

Felix looked at him.

Dante lowered his voice.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

Felix smiled.

Now they were speaking his language.

“No interference.”

“Meaning?”

“You don’t sabotage me. I don’t sabotage you.”

Dante nodded.

“No using magic.”

Felix looked offended.

“I wasn’t going to enchant her.”

“You’re fae.”

“You’re a dog.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed.

Felix smiled.

“Fine. No magic.”

“No wolf intimidation.”

“Obviously.”

“No family influence.”

Felix nodded.

“And neither of us tells anyone.”

Dante glanced around the dining hall.

“Agreed.”

Felix extended his hand.

Then stopped.

“One more.”

Dante waited.

Felix’s eyes returned to Amelia.

She was laughing now.

Actually laughing.

Head tilted slightly.

Green eyes bright.

For a moment, she didn’t look like the future Siren Queen.

She looked like a girl.

Felix looked back at Dante.

“If she tells either one of us to stop—”

Dante’s expression changed.

The humor vanished.

“We stop.”

“Completely.”

“Obviously.”

Felix nodded.

That mattered.

Whatever game they were playing, Amelia Corvo wasn’t property.

They weren’t monsters.

Just idiots.

There was, Felix thought, a distinction.

Dante extended his hand.

“May the best man win.”

Felix clasped it.

“Oh, I intend to.”

Across the dining hall, Amelia suddenly looked toward them.

Both men released each other’s hands.

Too late.

Her eyes narrowed.

Felix smiled and lifted his glass.

Dante did the same.

Amelia stared at them for another second.

Then turned to Elara.

“What are they doing?”

Elara glanced across the room.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

Amelia frowned.

She looked down.

At the half-eaten apple still sitting on her plate.

Then toward Felix Ashford.

Then Dante Lennox.

Two heirs.

Two ancient bloodlines.

Two men her father would undoubtedly despise.

Amelia picked up the apple.

Elara stared at her.

“You cannot possibly be considering eating that.”

Amelia examined it.

“I’m not.”

“Thank the gods.”

She carefully wrapped it in a napkin.

Elara looked even more concerned.

“What are you doing?”

Amelia smiled.

“Returning it.”

“Amelia.”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking—”

“He started it.”

Elara sighed.

And somewhere across the dining hall, completely unaware of the trouble approaching him, Dante Lennox smiled.

The wager had begun.