“Dance for me.”
Now my eyes really do fall out of my head. “Excuse me?”
“Dance. For me.” His lips form each word slowly, decisively. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
I dare a step closer. “I—I can’t dance.”
“Try.”?*
My stomach fills with rocks at his request. But his silken voice wraps around me, tugging me closer on an invisible string.
Nothing good can come from this. But maybe it will protect Kai. Protect my friend, who has already endured such horrible atrocities for my sake.
I can do this for him. I will do this for him.
I glance back at the table, to my untouched wine. Snatching up the chalice, I chug as Kylian looks on with an endeared smirk on his face. I drink every last drop, buying myself as much time as I can.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I turn back to him and step forward, a little unsure of myself.
He tracks my movements with a hunter’s stare. The sound of my racing heart and uneven breaths thunder in my ears, tangling withthe snapping fire.
“There’s no music,” I mutter, holding his intense gaze. He leans forward, power crackling around him.
“Are you stalling, Dragon Rider?”
I suck in a deep breath. “I’m not. Sit back,” I command.
Slinking back into his seat, he folds his arms behind his head. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
I stare at the floor as I start to move. Awkwardly at first, my movements lacking the intended grace and sensuality. I wonder if my inability to be seductive is a good thing. Dance too well, and it will rile him up. On the other hand, dance poorly, and I’ll disappoint him.
Either way, I’m bound to lose.
“You can do better than that,” he purrs.
This isn’t to get him off, I realize. He has plenty of bimbos floating around the castle for that. This is to humiliate me. My anger flares, but I continue to sway my hips and run my hands through my hair.
“Better. But you’re still holding back,” he coaches.
I bite back my frustration, lifting my arms above my head.
“Closer.”
He brings his electric eyes to the floor then back to mine. I reluctantly oblige, slipping between his knees and forcing him to stare up at me.
“Better.”
The wine begins to sing inside me, dulling the sharp edge of shame and revulsion that shadows each sway of my hips. With my eyes closed, I can almost forget who it is I’m dancing for. I can almost picture I’m somewhere else, with someone else.
“I want you to dance for me like you would for your little captain.”
My eyes snap open, and fury bubbles up inside me. Before I can stop myself, my hand lashes out to slap him. He catches my wrist with little effort as I seethe down at him.
“There it is.” He leans forward, bringing his face close to mine and whispers, “I want to see your fire. I want to feel it.”
Slipping my free hand into my belt, my fingers close around the dinner knife I stashed there while I drained my wine.
“Feel this, you fucker.”
