Chapter thirty - eight - Liars Dice

Birds chirping whistles come from above the high trees, and my brows slowly narrow to the point my face hurts. I'm standing in the middle of the forest, a few miles from Darius's cottage with verdant pines and a cool breeze that we never tend to get in Emberwell during the day. "This is—" I say, staring straight ahead as twigs crumble beneath my boots. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

Nothing, I am looking at nothing that is what.

Turning to the side, I watch as Darius cocks his head while Tibith rests on his shoulder. They smile without a word sending a flutter of irritation my way. So, I say, "Is this where you plan to dump my body? Your ultimate plan to end my life? Saving me so I would believe you don't mean harm to then trick me—"

I pause when Tibith and Darius both share a knowing look. Tibith slides down his arm as Darius steps towards me. My cautious glare doesn't go unnoticed by him as he just smirks and leans into my ear with a tender whisper, "Close your eyes."

My eyelids instantly droop heavy, affected by his voice, and then the strangest rush of sparks prickle my skin, a surge of power and a sensation I don't hate. It's... liberating.

A silhouette then appears, followed by soft purrs, causing me to gaze up at the sky. Shock pounds into me as a dragon flies ahead, and I turn with it to see a herd of them. Lavender aster coats the greenery where dragons rest and play with one another. Large rocks encase the clearing, and as my eyes shift to every corner, they land on an Inn far ahead.

The earthen hues match the forest with vines sprawling at the sides, enchanting and a haven. That's what I imagine this is, a safe haven for dragons.
"Many Merati's joined their powers to glamour this entire side of the forest," Darius says. I stay staring in awe at everything, even as Tibith runs past, jumping in the air to catch a butterfly. "It wasn't until I first came here two years ago that I decided to hide endangered dragons and creatures."

This is what the Venators have been in search of. "Why two years ago?"

"The one who leads most shifters approached me. He wanted me to join them."

"But you said no." I turn to him, thinking back to the attack in the city.

He lifts a shoulder, stroking a dragon near him by the snout. "I prefer working on my own, but it doesn't mean I've not helped a little here and there with building their resistance to steel and bringing by fledglings. It's the only place a shifter can feel... normal."

Shame trips over my body at how we mortals have had it so much easier than shifters for the past 300 years.

"I—" My need to apologize cuts off as soft rumbling sounds come from the side. I turn to see a dragon whelp crawling across a rock. He lets out a small squeak like when one yawns, and I angle my head, closing in on it. The scales glisten almost silver with blue hints in them. Its wings are barely developed, yet I bring my hand out as the dragon sniffs and golden slit eyes gaze at me.

"He likes you," Darius comments, and I look over my shoulder as a soft smile takes over his lips.

"Yeah... I guess he does," I say, focusing on the whelp again. It leans into my palm, nestling its head. Before I can stop myself, my mouth parts, and I'm smiling freely. A smile and a soft laugh at once that hurts my cheeks and evokes such love.

I wish that feeling could last a lifetime, the thrill of it but too soon am I forced to think of the fledgling I killed. It's as if I want to remind myself of it, to not let it go because all the guilt trapped in my heart won't let me forget.

My hand hovers over the scales, and it trembles. My entire body does. I suck in the air, then out, and I'm back in the dungeons; the chains crash against my ears while the dagger falls perfectly into my palm.

I drop my hand and shake my head before I blink, swallowing the harshness in my throat. Staggering, I look to my left, where Darius holds my forearm, so I don't fall. His other arm slides around my waist, steadying me.

The vision of the dungeons disappears, and I'm back in the forest fields; my heart twists and aches in my chest.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on with you, Goldie?"

I can't. I don't want to. "Nothing is going on." I almost stumble as I push myself off him. "I'm just still weak from the attack."

He stares at me with absolute silence. His eyes drift from my face down to my chest, and in an instant, I know he is trying to listen to my heart. I start to walk back the way we came from before he can sense my lie, and I mumble in panic, "Shall we head out—I should—"

"You haven't even gone in yet." He stops me and grabs my shoulders, turning me towards the Inn.

Oh, Solaris, no.

"Darius, no! They will notice I'm not one of them, and not to mention I've killed a few during the attack. I'm not ready to be torn apart. It'd be too unfair when I'm still weak and have no weapons," I hiss as I spin to face him. Still, my words only seem to amuse Darius even more as he folds his lips but ultimately can't help letting out a laugh.

My face burns and I'm positive steam is billowing out of my nostrils. "Why are you laughing!"

"Just trust me, Goldie. No one will do anything if they see you are with me. Plus, I'd hate to have to—" He pauses for a moment, his gaze sliding from my eyes to every other part of me before settling back on them. "Tear apart my own kind."

"I'm flattered," I say dryly.

He clicks his tongue. "Can't have the only person Tibith likes dying."

"He is right, Miss Nara!" Tibith says from the ground and then skips to the doors of the Inn.

I groan as Darius leads me up to the entrance. Anyone would think I'm idiotic for agreeing to any of this, but as we enter through the doors, chatter and jeers greet me.

It's a dimly lit tavern busy with shifters sitting and drinking on round tables. A polished oak countertop serves warm foods that mix with the heady scent of ale. Pale yellow walls darken with the shadows of everyone, then lighten as some shifters unfurl flames from their palms, laughing as they flick it to others.

I jump back as Tibith rolls past with a giggle and into the crowded Inn. I don't even realize I made a sound and clutched Darius's arm as people seem to stop what they are doing. Mugs slam onto the tables, and the music stops. They all turn their heads to us—specifically me.

Grave faces and flares of their nostrils catch my scent. I glance up at Darius and frown as he looks at my fist tightening on his shirt. My hands unlatch from him in record speed before he turns to the shifters.

"As you were." A graceful bow, borderline mocking as the corner of his lip lifts into a stunning smile.

As if nothing has happened, they resume to talking and drinking. A struck of irritation unleashes in my veins at Darius's smug expression but not before my gaze widens as a goblin passes us, smiling up at Darius while waving his drink in a matter of greeting.

I recognize the same bat-like ears and remember the goblin Archer—Darius took back from the Draggards.

Darius notices my gaping expression and says, "Told you he was safe."

He really is...

I shake my head with disbelief, but then a man yells Darius's name. It's gravel and hoarse, reminding me of a rustic violin. Darius and I turn our heads to the man slapping the backs of other shifters and halts before shaking Darius's hand in a friendly manner. Though shifters do not age past thirty, you can notice when one is mature just by the structure of their face, firm, sharp lines across the forehead just like the shifter back at the dungeons.

Flecks of brown and green sparkle in his eyes as he gives me a once-over. Chestnut hair rests by his shoulders, matching the thick beard and sheen golden skin. Leaning to the side of Darius as if trying not to be conspicuous, he asks, "What is a mortal doing here?"

"She's no threat, Gus," Darius says in the same whispering tone. Do they not realize I am right here?

Gus's brows rise and lips thin. "I hope you're right—"

"You must be the leader," I interrupt them, uncaringly as Gus's eyes shift to meet mine.

He takes a step towards me, looking at my face in the sternest expression, much like Idris's stare on others when he wants to intimidate. "The one and only."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glance around the tavern. Some shifters chant at someone who strips down nude at their demand and stands atop a table scattered with dice. Wanting to clear that image from my mind, I look at Gus. "Is it normal for you to let your people walk around naked? Or is that too much for you to control as a leader?"

His eyes narrow a fraction, studying me. I raise my brows as a response before he bursts into a bright laugh alongside Darius.

My forehead scrunches at what is going on in front of me. Gus pats his hand on Darius's shoulder and glances at me, this time with a warm smile. "What's your name, mortal?"

"Naralía," I answer firmly. I did not expect that reaction. "Ambrose."

He smiles, waving his hand for us to follow him. "Well Naralía it's called the Liars Dice with our own spin on it."

Darius places a hand on the small of my back, nudging me forward. Shifters stop to glance at us again but my gaze lodges onto the brown woolen shawl covering Gus's tunic.

"Anytime someone challenges a bid and wins, the other has to strip naked as a bet," Gus continues as we stop by a table of four male shifters. "Darius always makes a spectacle of stealing their clothes, though."

Of course, he steals them though I make a face unimpressed by the outcome of this bet. My guess is that it was Darius's idea in the first place. I turn to him, drawling my words as I lift a single brow, "And here I thought, you had their garments for different reasons."

He chuckles under his breath and inclines his head as he closes any space between us. His bottom lip traces the curve of my ear as he whispers, "Just because I take their clothes doesn't mean I don't sleep with them before it, Goldie."

A sudden tightness engulfs my throat, and I fight to swallow. I scowl as he straightens with a half-satisfied smile, and I stare at the dark liner around his eyes. It creates such contrast to the various brown and golden colors that it reminds me of dawn.

I clear my throat, letting my gaze wander away from him. "Well, have you ever lost?"

"He never has," one of the shifters grumbles, getting up from the stools as the rest do.

"Even if he did lose," Gus adds. "I know for certain he'd have no shame in walking around bare."

"Always exposing me, Gus," Darius comments with a light-hearted laugh.

"Someone has to, kid."

"I can agree to that," I say and clap my hands together, releasing a breath at the sudden confidence in me. "So, how do you play this game?"

"Why?" Darius drawls wryly as I look up at him. "Eager to lose against me, Goldie?"

"Not at all," I practically whisper, drawing nearer to him this time as I stare into his eyes. "I'm always up for a challenge."

Everyone breaks out into amused murmurs as I step away. "Where'd you find this girl, Darius?" Someone calls out, but Darius's gaze never leaves mine as I make my way to sit down.

"More like she found me," he murmurs with a smile that can only mean he's implying our first meet and how he'd won.

That prompts me to think of something.

"I'd like to place a different bet," I announce, ignoring Darius's confusion flooding him. "Whoever wins gets to ask the other five questions they mustn't refuse."

Questions he can't back out of, not like he usually does, even if I'm aware I could be the one to lose instead.

He grins, lowering himself onto the barrel stool. "Quite tame of you, Goldie."

I hum in agreement, extending my hand out to him. "I guess I'm just not as eccentric as you."

Another laugh releases from his lips, melodious and deep, as he shakes my hand. It's a deal.

Gus stands at the side, citing the rules as Darius grabs the cup with five dices inside. I survey him as I pick up mine, also containing the same amount. It's a game of lie and deception with a bit of luck on your side. Once we roll a hand and flip the cup down on the table, you hide the dice from your opponent. We then begin bidding what we believe is the value under both cups until either of us challenges the other, calling them liars and showing what we have underneath.

If the amount the person bids is correct, the other loses.

"You're not going to try and listen to my heart, are you?" I slant my head, pouting my lips in sarcasm as I shake the cup. "Because now that would be cheating."

He chuckles. "If we all did that during the game, then there'd be no point in playing it, would there?" We both slam the cup face down as he gestures a hand to me mockingly. "You first."

Shifters surround us, watching avidly. And since Darius expects me to disagree, I choose to tilt the cup enough to see all the dice. Three, sixes, one, four, and one, three shows under the rim shadows.

I gaze up at Darius, my voice neutral. "Two, fours."

His lip tugs at the corner, and then he lifts his cup. "Three, fours."

"Confident, are we?"

"Always, Goldie."

"If I win you won't be anymore."

"Well if I lose, I take it with pride, unlike you."

I glower at him then huff out a breath. "Four, fours."

"You know I've noticed something with you." He cocks his head, pursing his lips. "Whenever you're flustered, freckles dot your cheeks."

I want to touch my skin, race to a mirror to check, but I don't want to give him that satisfaction. My fingers grip the cup tightly as I say with force, "I'm not flustered."

A shake of his head, smiling down at his hand. "You're only proving me right, Goldie. Five fours."

Solaris, it's like he tries to do this on purpose.

Gus chuckles at that, and others murmur, clinking their mugs.

Exhaling sharply, I count my dices. He's said five fours, while I have one, if I'm to call him out as a liar, he could have four fours, and my one will count as a five, making him win. Deciding to play on luck and a bit of fakeness, I let my eyes dart across the room as if on high nerves. "Six, sixes," I say quietly, taking a gamble.

Shifters now laugh at me for bidding so high, and Darius's smirk darkens with a sense of sensuality to them. He leans forward. "Liar," a velvety whisper that heats the back of my neck, up to my ears.

Keeping my eyes level with him, we both lift the cups revealing our dice. His show three sixes and two fours. Equaling the bid to six sixes with mine.

I've won.

For once, I've won.

Shifters cheer incredulously, and the excitement that flurries through my veins is endless as Darius's brows rise at the total of the dices. When he lifts his eyes at me, I'm smirking just like he was.

"What a foul mortal you are," he croons.

I grin wickedly. "Only the best against a dragon pig."

"I'd like a go with the mortal," a young golden-haired male says, squeezing between others. He shoots me a wink that I scrunch my nose at in disgust. "Minus the question bet you made, I'd rather the nudity."

Brave of him to go after I'd beaten Darius and how unfortunate for him to believe I'd undress over this game. With greedy eyes, his hand goes to the cup that Darius's palm still lies over but—

"I'd advise against touching the cup," Darius says with fierce lethality in his tone as he slowly glances up at him. "Cutler."

Cutler gulps, nodding uncontrollably. "Right, sorry, Darius," he mumbles causing me to stare wide-eyed as he retreats. Gus drags him by his neck and others away, muttering something about not messing with Darius.

I roll my eyes at that and force a smile at Darius. "You owe me five answers now."

"Once you have the questions, you'll get them, don't worry, Goldie."

Doubtful, his playful tone makes me believe otherwise, but as I go to glare, music swarms the air, and I lean to the side as shifters join the center of the tavern. Some play on the flutes creating an upbeat tempo along with the gitterns and drums.

"What are they all doing?" I ask, and Darius swivels his head around.

"What does it look like, Goldie?"

I carry on staring as female shifters shake their gowns and stomp their feet on the ground.

Dancing, they're dancing.

Darius gets up and extends his hand out to me, and I blanch.

"I don't know this dance either," I say warily. I do not need a repeat of the Noctura dance.

Darius smiles wide, grabbing my hand either way. "You don't have to."

"Wait, Darius—" I protest, but he pulls me from the chair, dragging my stubbornness to the center. I try to dig the heels of my boots into the wooden floorboards, but he lets go as people start twirling one another, raising their hands in the air to clap in rhythm. Darius disappears from my view as a girl of ebony locks links her arm around mine, facing the opposite way, and smiles. She spins me with small jumps in her step and then switches arms until she passes me onto someone else.

My eyes go round, trying to adjust to a new person. I search for Darius, tipping my head in every direction except each time my partner whirls me around; I'm with another. I squeal with delight as a man of russet locks picks me up from my waist and pivots me before I'm dropped onto the floor, joining arms with him.

The drums beat to the same movement of our feet and clapping of the hands that I forget where I am for a moment. These are all shifters I never thought I'd even as much as approach other than to detain or... kill.

And the reality is they are not so different from a human—from me.

Somehow the scent of mead pervades with the movements, reminding me of home, back when I would join my brothers on the night of Noctura, dancing to the gold stardust falling.

I loosen myself, closing my eyes as a grin sneaks its way onto my lips. Tipping my head back, I continue smiling. Another shifter now holds my hand upward, spinning me consecutively until it all becomes a blur, and I collide with the next person's front.

A laugh bubbles in my throat as I press my palms against the man's chest for support, but as I drag my gaze up, the blur becomes a clear image of Darius's eyes twinkling at me.

"Dreadful dancer, Goldie," he murmurs brazenly.

"Really?" I droll. "Because I'd say I took inspiration from you."

His eyes brighten in mischief. "Ah, so what I'm hearing is that I inspire you," he states, and before I can retort, he's grabbing my hand and twisting me outwards.

I shake my head, unable to contain the amusement as he reels me back in and dips me far enough for my eyes to line with the tables and stools upside down.

And just then, the music comes to a stop. Laughter convulses out of me, making my shoulders shake, and my head whips along with my body as he pulls me upright. Everyone else cheers and whistles to the ending of the dance while Darius keeps a grip on my hand up at the side. He inquires, "Have you thought of your first question yet?"

I slow my breathing to an exhale, and any trace of smile flees from my lips. I have too many questions that not even five will suffice. "Not yet," I say.

His laugh is soft and sultry like a harp as his other hand tightens around my waist. "Make sure each one is worth it, Goldie."

They will be, at least, I hope.

A different sound of music plays, a bright tone from the fiddle. Darius and I don't move as others start to dance again. He looks as if he's tracing my entire face with a certain stare that's unrecognizable. I'd question him with annoyance, but a woman appears, tapping his arm.

He glances over his shoulder as she asks him for a dance. When he looks back at me, I shift away from his hold in a daze. I nod for the girl to do as she pleases with Darius, and I make my way up to the bar counter where Gus stands behind it, overlooking the entire tavern.

"He's a wild one, eh?" He gestures his chin towards Darius.

"Worse than that, I'd say," I mumble, sliding my bottom up onto the stool. My feet dangle off the barrel as I stare at Darius, now lifting the girl off the floor and spinning her around. I can just about hear her laugh over the instruments.

Gus chuckles, but it quietens, and then he says, "It's rare you get these moments."

That draws my attention away from Darius and onto Gus as I frown. "What do you mean?"

He rests his forearms against the counter. "Well, despite him salvaging creatures and playing a game here or two, the nights always end with him drinking far too much."

"So, it's rare to see him sober?" I analyze, tipping my head forward.

"It's rare to see him himself," he clarifies, and his gaze returns to Darius with a sigh. "That boy has dealt with too much since a young age. The meaning of trust doesn't exist to him. It took him one drunken night to tell me a snippet of his life." His words take me off guard, and my frown only deepens as he looks at me pensively. "But with you, it seems like you are the first he trusts."

Silence flakes off me. I don't know what to say or how to respond to such an assumption. Trust is the last thing I'd have imagined between us. Before, I'd wanted to kill him, capture him, and still to this day, he aggravates me in more ways than one. Why would he trust me?

I look at Darius one more time, Tibith now joins him, rolling up his shoulder, and I wonder why I'm even trusting him myself.