Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 31: I Absolutely Want to Cause a Scene

Kane looked pissed as hell.

He was scowling at Septimus, his hands flexing at his sides. Seraena swallowed. She'd only seen him this fucked off once before, and it was when Vulcan had tried to kill her during the Grand Race. That had ended with Kane threatening her cousin with a knife in front of the entire Gongonian council.

This wouldn't be good.

Septimus raised an eyebrow. "And you are...?"

His voice dripped with condescension. Kane took a step closer.

"Your new problem." His voice was low. "Take your hands off her."

Septimus held his gaze. Slowly, he slid his hand further down Seraena's back, his fingers splaying over the curve of her ass. His smile was dissolved sugar. "You don't want to cause a scene, do you?"

A muscle ticked in Kane's jaw. "Oh, I absolutely want to cause a scene."

"And who do you think people will side with?" Septimus arched an eyebrow. "You, or the future High Lord?"

Kane stilled. When he spoke, his voice was deadly calm. "What did you just say?"

Septimus looked smug. "I've asked Seraena to marry me."

"You asked," Seraena cut in. "I haven't said yes. And I'm not going to."

She couldn't keep the irritation out of her voice. Septimus's sweaty hand was burning through the silk material of her dress, and the sudden urge to kick him in the shins was almost overwhelming. A godsdamn shame they were in public. She could feel people watching her, whispering behind their fans. The only person who wasn't looking at her was Kane; his blue eyes were fixed on Septimus, and colour burned high in his cheeks.

Septimus sidled closer. "Oh, I wouldn't count me out yet, Raena. You'll find I can be very... persuasive."

Disgust rose in her chest. "I don't need your fortune."

"I wasn't talking about my fortune," Septimus murmured. "I was talking about this."

Septimus gripped the back of her head, twisting her face upwards. His mouth tasted of biscuits and salt. And saliva. So much saliva. Seraena hardly had time to process his tongue invading her mouth before Septimus was shoved violently backwards.

Kane stood beside her, murder in his eyes.

He lunged. Seraena leapt forward, grabbing the collar of his suit jacket and sloshing thornberry juice all over her shoes. Kane twisted, snarling, his eyes half-glazed like a feral animal. She yanked him backwards.

"K—" She caught herself. "Flint."

Kane blinked. Some of the red haze receded from his eyes, although he was still breathing raggedly, his hands flexing as if aching to punch something. Septimus snorted.

"Flint Hemlock?" That strange gravel-drawl turned amused. "I've heard of you. A glorified stable boy."

Kane's smile was the edge of a knife. "Call my dragon a horse one more time, Greenstock. I'd love to watch him incinerate you."

"Kane." Seraena spoke low in his ear. "Let it go."

Kane was breathing hard, his eyes fixed on Septimus. The other boy smirked and curled his fingers, and Kane's body tensed under her hands.

"Stop," Seraena hissed.

For a terrible moment, nobody moved. The violin music died, leaving a hollow void in its wake; the only sound was the shift of expensive fabric and the scuffle of shoes against tile. Someone whispered. Another person laughed. It didn't matter, Seraena thought, her heart pounding; the main thing that mattered — the only thing — was getting Kane out of the ballroom before he did something that got him arrested.