“Mine,” I growled under my breath.
“Kick rocks,” she retorted, flashing a sarcastic grin in my direction before returning to her search.
“Are you looking for a certain… white-haired wolf shifter?”
Her mouth dropped open for a moment. I hooked my foot behind her legs and knocked her off balance, catching her by surprise as I swept her into a grand dip. Her eyes were saucers when I pulled her upright.
I was thoroughly amused.
She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. “What did you do to him?” she accused.
I simply smirked.
A lovely, angry flush spread across her cheeks.
When the music changed, she tore herself from my grasp, darting to the far end of the ballroom.
As if she could escape me.
Never.
I slunk to the edge of the room, keeping to the shadows as Tommins announced the first eliminations and the continuation of the stupid dance trial.
Ginger spoke frantically to her friends as she swayed back and forth in a lazy imitation of dancing.
But still, she looked elegant. Of course.
At the next turn of the music, she launched herself into the arms of the nearest woman while her eyes scanned the dance floor.Looking for me.
Murder simmered in my bones, the urge to destroy every folk who touched her nearly impossible to contain. But at least, if they could touch her skin, her mind was still with me. It was a small consolation.
I twirled a dark-haired witch, only touching her gloved hand as much as absolutely necessary.
Ginger could play her games for now. I would have her soon.
The trial continued.
Folk were eliminated.
I crept closer and closer to my wife.
As the crowd thinned, I corralled Ginger in the corner. She had no choice but to pair with me.
“No!” she groaned, tossing her head back dramatically. “Why won’t you just leave me alone! I’m not interested, clearly.”
“Aren’t you? Why do you keep looking for me, then?”
She didn’t bother denying it. “So I can avoid you!”
“Tell yourself what you must, wife.”
“Stop calling me that!”
I pulled her into my grasp. She resisted for only a moment before she fell into step beside me. She held herself stiffly.
“Why do you run from me, little faun? Are you afraid?” I asked.
“Because I don’t like you!” she hissed, exasperated.
