“Now you’re not playing fair.” After giving the corner of her lips a peck, I led her from the altar and to the awaiting dancefloor, where couples already twirled circles around one another.
Several guards escorted Nanok and Fintan into the throne room despite their reservations about having animals inside the castle. Nanok was immediately on the hunt for food, while Fintan searched for Sylvie, content to roam the space when he’d found her and received some good head scratches.
Rathan brought us silver goblets filled to the brim with red cranberry wine. Sylvie was quick to grab one, sipping on it and humming over how sweet and delicious it tasted. I arched a brow at how quickly she finished it, beckoning for another. Sipping from my glass, I chuckled into the goblet, my laughter echoing against the metal.
Sylvie was on her second gulp of fresh wine when she paused and squinted at me. “What’s so funny?”
“I suppose I should’ve warned you about fae wine when you’re not used to it.”
Sylvie gazed into her cup with the most adorable little pout.
“But then I realized there’s no danger with you throwing your inhibitions out the fucking door now and again, is there?” Pulling her closer, I nuzzled my nose against her temple. “And you’re always safe with me, Sylvaria.”
“Mm,” she cooed into my neck, her fingers playing in my hair. “Then twirl me until you’re the only thing keeping me standing.”
Laughing, I obliged her request, waltzing us in unruly circles between others twirling on the dancefloor. Sylvaria let her head fall back, giggling, some of the wine in her goblet splashing to the floor. The lively music melted into a slower, seductive pace as the violin in the band took center stage.
Sylvaria caught my gaze, bringing her wine to my lips and encouraging me to drink. Flashing my fangs at her, I slipped the cup from her grasp and downed it, handing it off to the first tray that passed. “You’resofucking handsome, Jack.”
Pulling her tighter, I dipped my pinky into the low back of her dress and pressed my forehead to hers. “I know.”
“Frosty, you son of a—” Sylvie cackled, her joyous laughter rivaling the music.
Capturing her mouth with mine, I slow-danced us in circles, my fingers massaging the back of her neck and tangling in her pale, wavy hair. The wine’s effects buzzed in the back of my head, and I slunk from the dancefloor, yanking Sylvie into the darkened area behind the thrones. There was just enough space between the altar and the wall for us to fit, facing each other.
“What’s this? The king sneaking away during such a prestigious ceremony?” Sylvie teased, nibbling her bottom lip and looping her fingers in my belt loops.
Pressing the hardened thickness straining in my pants against her stomach, I placed my hands against the wall above her head. “I couldn’t fucking help myself. I was right, by the way.”
Sylvie unabashedly palmed my erection, squeezing the fabric. “About what?”
“What a queen you would make,” I whispered, my voice gravelly. The crown complemented her hair, her glowing, lilac eyes, her high cheekbones, but most of all, it suitedher.
Sylvie smiled at me, bright and full of vigor, before whimpering. She crashed her mouth to mine, her fevered motions knocking my crown from my head. I caught it before it hit the marble floor, holding it at my side. My free hand teased tantalizing circles over her wings against the wall. We were two teenagers who snuck away to make out in a broom closet in that moment.
Fucking winter’s curse.Iwas the first one to pull away. Panting, I ran my thumb over the smeared lipstick staining Sylvie’s mouth, smoothing it out. “We should get back to the party, Snowflake.”
Sylvie pouted and shoved her forehead against my chest. “I suppose you’re right yet again.”
Chuckling, I stroked her hair. “We have all night, my mate.”
“I’m holding you to that—” Sylvie started, gripping my cock through my pants again. “—yourmajesty.”
“Promises, promises,” I mused, nudging my head for her to move first.
Wickedly shimmying past me, making sure her tits brushed my ribs, she waved at me before thrusting her fists in the air when in view of the crowd. “Who wants more wine?”
Shaking my head, I speared a hand through my hair, straightening it before resting the crown on my head. When I appeared from behind the altar, Rathan stood in the crowd with his arms folded and a knowing, sardonic grin playing on his lips. I shrugged at him.
The night carried on with two more casks of wine opening, the dancing becoming far more chaotic and messier. Sylvie had grabbed the attention of our lead chef, interested in how he made certain dishes, before offering her own advice. Nanok and Fintan received enough attention to last them several lifetimes. And me? I was content to prop myself on a wall and observe it all, let it sink in what a lucky bastard I was and how this night could not have been more perfect.
The sudden dull scent of sulfur hanging in the air had my shoulders tensing. There were several firelit lamps and endless candles, but that particular smell put me on full alert. Nanok’s head poked above the crowd, his nose sniffing the air. Our shared wintry glow radiated in his eyes, his teeth baring in a protective snarl.
A plume of grey smoke and spiraling, inky black tendrils appeared in the middle of the dance floor, a shadowy figure materializing a moment later with a blade poised at one of my guards’ necks. I’d prepared for it. Only it was impossible to guesswhenit would happen. Stepping in front of my mate, my palms poised in front of me, I readied to deal with the Snow Queen once and for all.
One moment,I was deliriously happy and tipsy on fae wine, and in the next, I’d immediately sobered at the sight ofDiedre.
When the room fell silent and all matters of celebration ceased, Diedre clacked her teeth. “Oh, by all means, don’t stop the party on my account.”
