Maeve watched Arianna and Titus dancing. Her own time was running up. Soon it would be Christmas and the Sacred Seventeen Party where customarily Maeve’s betrothal would be announced.
But no one was saying anything. Not even Mal. In fact, he told Primrose he thought the preservation of Magical bloodlines was vital. How was she to stand at his side and he an exception to his policies?
Mal, always in her thoughts, whispered to her.
“Don’t fret, Little Viper. You have time to set things right.”
Maeve looked up at him. “They are watching us,” she said, her smile never faltering.
“They are,” said Mal.
Leslie Loxerman and The Committee of the Sacred were just across the ballroom.
Maeve continued to stare up at him adoringly.
“You’re good at that,” said Mal, as he pulled her closer.
Maeve tilted her chin up towards him.
“Not yet,” said Mal, smirking down at her.
He danced them around until they were back in a good line of sight.
“Now,” said Mal, slowly bringing his lips gently to hers.
This kiss was the opposite of how she was greeted when she arrived at his flat early that morning. When he pushed her against the wall in the darkened hallway with demanding and paralyzing force. She didn’t mind that kiss at all.
Nor did she mind the way he delicately and loosely kissed her now. But that wasn’t what she wanted them to see.
With a sharp inhale, she pushed to her toes, and wrapped her fingers through his hair. She spread her mouth open and ran her tongue across his lips.
Mal tensed under her, and then relaxed with a chuckle into her lips.
Maeve looked to Leslie Loxerman. Disdain curled at the old witch’s lip.
Maeve bit into his bottom lip, her teeth raking across the skin as she lowered back down to her feet, never breaking her gaze with Loxerman.
Maeve didn’t smile. The song ended, and she looked up at Mal. His hands slid behind his back.
“Always the rebel,” he said darkly.
“You said to get it done,” said Maeve innocently.
She left Mal to charm the guests and went into into the Dining Hall to get a drink and look for her father. The room was empty save for Abraxas and one of the boys she recognized to be Alphard’s friend who were seated at the bar. They were sitting so close Abraxas was nearly in his lap.
A few seats down was Reeve and his Commander, Eryx.
Maeve smiled softly.
Abraxas’ cheeks were flushed. Maeve put her arm around him.
Maeve, darling,” drawled Abraxas. “Have you met Hugo Septum?”
Hugo extended his hand to her, and she took it.
“Pleasure,” said Maeve.
She turned to Abraxas, who was clearly very drunk.
