“And I suggest you try for some manners. Do you know who I am?” he growled, jerking her again, roughly, as if for good measure.
“A complete ass?” she suggested in a tone that was probably unhelpful to her current situation, but she couldn’t resist. A tingling sensation swarmed her free hand as her dark lightning gathered, preparing to zap the arrogance right off this wizard’s face.
“You witches are all the same. Power hungry, ungrateful little bi—”
“Mr. Roswell.” Icarus’s tone was unmistakably clear, his gaze zeroing in on the grip the boy had on Seren with a ferocity that would frighten the god of war himself. “I believe your father is waiting for you.”
The young wizard’s eyes flashed towards the staff table at the large man seated on the other side of Cyrus who sat beside Headmistress Sinclair. Trembling, he released Seren to try to skirt past the handsome professor who was eyeing him with unequivocal disdain. Before he could slip by, Icarus reached out, catching his arm much the same way he’d grabbed Seren’s, and then bent down an inch to whisper something in the wizard's ear.
Seren watched with unbridled delight as the boy went paler than the full moon before nodding vigorously and rushing away towards his father. Icarus watched him go for only a moment before turning back to Seren with a rueful expression. “I’m sure you would have liked to handle that, but you’re in enough trouble as it is.”
Seren only gaped at him, taking in the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark suit fit so perfectly around his cut frame. He was as handsome as the day she’d first laid eyes on him–maybe more so now that she knew what could be found beneath; that the inside was good, and brave, and everything a man should wish to be.
“What did you say to him?” she asked, allowing her eyes to trail away for the briefest of seconds before settling back on the man she pined for above all else.
Icarus smirked. “I simply reminded him what happens to those who cross a Darkmore. Shall we?”
Seren didn’t think her jaw could hang open any further but, realizing it could, snapped it shut before staring at his hand held out to her, wondering if this was his idea of a joke. “Do you mean to ask me to dance? In front of a room full of people?”
His chuckle was deep and warm. “Yes, Seren, that’s the idea. They've just announced the partner switch, so now's the best time if we don't want to lose each other.”
If she believed this night to be a dream before, she was almost certain it was now, yet the shaking of her knees was the only tell giving way to her nerves and disbelief. She rested her steady hand in his open palm and he swept her close. Not nearly close enough for her tastes, but as a beggar she would take whatever he offered.
When his other palm closed around the thinning of fabric at her hip, Seren sucked in a quick breath. The rush of pleasure shooting through her was sweeter than the wine had been, and her fingers clutched at the shoulder of his suit jacket as though she might fall if she didn’t hold on tight enough.
“Breathe, Seren,” he whispered as little black pulsing currents threatened to spark to life along her skin.
She did as told, sucking in deeply only to push a great gust out between her full, pursed lips. Icarus stared at them, a longing of his own simmered behind his eyes, and she knew that there was no denying it. He wanted her like she wanted him. She let herself melt into his touch as they twirled to the tempo of the waltz, and reveled in the sharp breath she elicited from him when she made to move closer, pressing her chest into his.
“Damn the gods,” he groaned. His fingers tightened on her waist, forcing a careful distance to be maintained, but the way they dug into her skin was a pleasure all on its own. One that drew a soft whimper from her, and she couldn’t help but smirk up at him, batting her long lashes.
“Is there a problem,professor?”
His returning look was scathing in its heat, twisting through her in a way that sent more pleasurable jolts down her spine. She was getting to him, carving at his willpower the way a river grinds down stone over time.
Overhead, fall leaves of vibrant red and canary yellow drifted down as if they were dancing in an autumn-kissed forest rather than the dining hall. One landed in Icarus’s dark hair but before she could reach up to brush it away for him, it vanished. She smiled at the reminder of the magical world that surrounded them. Of all the possibility it held.
“You look lovely by the way,” he said after a falling crescendo signaled that the end of the melody was drawing near.
Seren felt a satisfied heat rush to her cheeks. “You don’t look so bad, yourself.”
He smirked at that and twirled her for a final time so that she ended the song with her back pressed into his chest and one of his strong arms encompassing her. She wondered if he could feel her heart slam beneath her ribs and then hoped for it. She wanted him to know the effect he had on her. How it was incomparable to anything she’d ever felt before.
But a frown from him broke the enchanting spell they'd fallen under. A smattering of applause broke across the room and another song started up, but he released her, scanning the dance floor with a growing franticness.
“What is it?” Seren asked, irritated to have to share his attention with anything. But then she remembered the danger that hovered upon the evening.
“They’re gone,” he murmured.
“Who?” Seren asked, scanning the room with him, trying desperately to keep the panic out of her voice so that the others near them would not wonder.
“Arabella, Calder, my uncle. All of them. We’ve lost every godsdamned one of them.” A rigidity settled through him and Seren’s stomach turned dangerously, threatening to expel her wine and the food she’d nibbled on.
“The stone. Do you think they’re going for it?” she asked, following him through the crowd that seemed to be growing thicker by the moment.
Tucking close to him, Seren leaned in so that she could hear as they moved through the noisy hall. “If I had to guess. Tonight would be the perfect night to do it. And I didn’t explain the barrier, I just told Calder to stay put. But he never listens. I shouldn’t have taken my eye off him.”
The words pierced Seren’s chest like a dagger, threatening to drop her where she stood. Her grip on Icarus’s arm loosened as the rush of pain overwhelmed her. Of course, she was worried for Arabella but she didn’t regret their dance. She simply couldn’t.
