Kael’s hold was iron and alive, locking me between his chair and mine before I could fall to my shame. For a moment I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t dare look at him. Not yet.
When I finally did, his eyes were dark as a brewing storm. I felt everything—his warmth, his strength, the force that could squeeze and crush me if he chose. His hand pressed firm at the smallof my back, fingers burning through the fabric of my robe. He held me there for the span of a single breath, then pulled me closer, and my wine-dazed mind betrayed me with the thought that he might draw me onto his lap.
Instead, he pushed me down with his other hand, forcing me back into my seat.
“You sit down, Evangelina. Dinner’s not over.” His voice struck like a hammer, low and final.
The heat of him lingered even after he withdrew. I sat still, obedient, the air thick between us. When Selena returned with the others, glee and wine clung to them like perfume. She brushed her hand across Kael’s shoulder as she passed, leaning close to whisper something in his ear.
I didn’t hear it.
And gods help me, I both wanted and didn’t want to know. It twisted through my chest like a corkscrew, cruel and deep.
When she sat beside me, she smiled, but her eyes were full of something.
Pity.
I still wasn’t sure whether I liked Selena. Or whether she liked me.
“It is a beautiful night, Evie,” she sang. A dirge through my ears. “Still, I understand choosing the comfort of a warm hall. The air is freezing outside.”
A servant set a plate of apple strudel before me before I could respond. Even if I had found the words, whatever I might have said, I swallowed them. I didn’t dare reveal how flushed the wine had left me. Silence was safer.
Jorren raised a toast to dessert, he and Isolde suddenly back on speaking terms. Friends, or something that resembled it. Thalen rambled about strudel. I barely heard a word.
All I wanted was to leave. Run. Hide in the corner of my chambers and forget this cursed evening. The humiliation of what hadhappened with Kael still burned through me, and Selena’s opacity only drove the blade deeper.
Then, as if fate enjoyed my suffering, my fork slipped from my hand.
The clink of silver on marble was lost beneath Thalen’s laughter.
“Oh, perfect,” I muttered under my breath.
I leaned down, peering beneath the table. The fork glinted near Kael’s black boot. I reached for it, and my hand accidentally touched his thigh.
What he did next stole the breath from me.
He shoved my hand aside as if swatting a fly out of orbit, but he didn’t stop there. His hand found my thigh.
Rough. Firm. Unforgiving.
He squeezed hard enough to make me gasp. A sharp yelp broke from my lips before I could stop it.
Every head turned.
Dozens of eyes fixed on me. I froze. I needed an excuse—fast—or I would drown beneath the weight of their stares.
“S-sorry. I dropped my fork,” I stammered.
A few doubtful looks lingered, but they soon turned back to their plates. Conversation resumed, shallow and distant. I was given another fork.
Kael’s hand was still there. Still pressing. Still crushing.
I sat trapped, every muscle taut, pulse roaring in my ears. I didn’t know whether to pull away or stay perfectly still. My body had already chosen for me. I couldn’t move.
It hurt. His grip was punishing, a reminder of his strength.
But beneath the pain, something darker stirred.
