I gazed at the real reason I’d chosen to wear white tonight.
Quinn’s body was filling out beautifully. A stunning beaded halter top that matched my bracelet led to a baby-doll skirt. Little matching flats covered her feet—all in white, symbolizing her neutrality. Brit must have done her hair. A tangle of braids of different sizes wove up, showing off her sparkling stripes before coming to a high ponytail, which playfully swung behind her. A thin strap of the same jeweled fabric tied under her breasts, accentuating her curves and highlighting her figure. The skirt was perfectly on trend. Another layer of sparkling beading peeked out from the bottom.
‘Close your mouth, lover boy,’ Rowan teased in my head.
He stepped up to my side, decked out in a kilt of his family’s blue and red. I clicked my jaw shut without comment, unwilling to be grateful for his strong presence at my side.
Keeping Quinn alive had connected us. It wasn’t a tether, but mixing that much power created something new. I didn’t understand it, but with Quinn’s link still settling in me, I’d accepted whatever this was and moved forward.
It’s what Quinn would have done.
Brit reached out and steadied my girl. The scantily clad pit fighter’s white leathers were accented with the same sparkling gemstone work as Quinn’s. Brit’s hard, scarred body perfectly balanced Quinn’s tiny, innocent doe appearance. It would throw even the best smooth talker off their game.
‘It’s too bad Joe isn’t here. Brit’s a walking piece of art,’Rowan said.
‘Your only comment is for Brit?’I asked, finally acknowledging our mental connection.
Rowanelbowed me, and I smiled despite myself.
He stepped forward and joined a pack of muscle-bound men in the same kilts as him. The group descended upon Quinn. I lost sight of her, but, to my surprise, voices filtered into my thoughts. It took me a moment to realize Rowan was letting me listen in.
“I see why my son is so desperate to get out of his contract. But, I do have one more, ready to leave my home in a year,” a man’s low voice said.
“Ah, thanks, I think.” Quinn’s voice. “But it’s not about your family; I, uh, don’t even know you. And Rowan’s doing it for himself.”
I could picture her beaming at the big elemental enforcer.
“Love,” the first man who had spoken said. “It’s a thing rarely found anymore. Not the same as happiness, mind you, but necessity breeds invention, not emotion.”
“A deep thinker,” Quinn said. “Must have skipped a generation.”
The group laughed, and jealousy pinched my heart, not for Quinn and Rowan, but for my family.
My life flashed before my eyes, endless hours of training and worshiping. I laughed as a kid—I was sure—but for years, my humor had been fleeting and followed by penance. The demands of the family were my mother’s embrace, while the strict rules of my Prophet were my father’s love.
I rubbed my wrist before pushing down my self-pity and listening once more. A bit of awkward small talk followed. Someone, I assumed Brit, jabbed Quinn’s side when she drifted off topic, and she quickly shifted her dialogue. It took me a moment to realize that Rowan had set up this practice exchange for our girl.
‘Thank you,’I said in Rowan’s mind.
The elementalist smirked.
A few minutes later, Quinn exited the pack of Tates. She didn’t make it five steps before a group of women, Everly included, broughther into their circle. I hovered while trying not to hover, unable to hear without Rowan but not quite willing to let Quinn out of my sight.
She left Everly and made it another foot before a third group of people stopped her. She still hadn’t snagged a drink, but her energy had steadied. I picked my way through the crowd. I couldn’t be by her side, but a few visits wouldn’t hurt anything.
Chapter 33
Quinn
I’dbeenattheMixer for over an hour and still hadn’t made it halfway into the room. The food table had long vanished beneath a tide of bodies.
“Quinn,” a somewhat familiar tenor said, pulling my attention back to my front.
Seth emerged from the crowd, polished in tweed and gold, but all I saw was our last encounter. My stomach clenched. I kept glancing at his cyan-blue hair. Why were there so many damn shades of blue? I couldn’t tell how close it was to Xan’s. Did Seth even know he was related to the Architect?
I suddenly didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
Brit put her hand on my shoulder, and my nerves calmed. Neither Seth nor Xan said anything about the other. I needed to relax and pretend I didn’t know.
