“One who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”
Okay, that might actually be true of me.
“Someone who makes me feel like I’m more than my uniform or my fortune. Someone who won’t judge me for my past.” He holds my gaze for a few seconds, and his expression grows distant. I can only imagine mentioning his past conjured thoughts of his father. And his own crimes.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my sympathy at bay, but my heart sinks just the same. Heisbeing judged for his past. Not just by me but by the entire Alpha Council. Shouldn’t he be, though? It’s up to the fae to keep the isle safe, to ensure we don’t invite danger through our protective barrier. For if we do, we could summon threats we haven’t seen since the Church of Saint Lazaro sparked their bloody rebellion.
Dorian shakes his head and grins again. “I like someone who’s a good dancer.”
I laugh as he spins me. “I fail on that count. You and I both know I lack grace.”
“No, you don’t,” he says as he pulls me in close again.
I give him a pointed look. “I nearly fell twice in front of you.”
“That doesn’t mean you lack grace. I was watching you dance.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile grows. It’s an expression I’ve never seen before.
“You…watched me dance?”
He nods. “From the bar. You move so freely. I…I like it. I like—”
The breath catches in my throat as his gaze roams over me, his eyes glazed. I stiffen as I feel the hand at my lower back begin to rise, his fingers splayed out, sending shivers up my spine. His other hand releases mine and trails up my arm to my shoulder. My stomach flips and an increased tingle surges through my lips. With a sudden shock, I realize this might be the moment he kisses me. My heart hammers against my ribs as he lifts his hand from my shoulder to my hair. I hold my breath, fighting the urge to pull away, turn my face, do anything but stay still and let him do what must be done. The instinct to fight necessity is senseless. I know it is. Imustlet this happen.
I close my eyes and wait.
But nothing happens.
My eyes fly open, and I realize we’ve stopped dancing. Other dancers continue to move around us, and at some point, the song must have changed again, because the tune is now riotous, matching the pounding of my heart. Dorian remains in place, hand on my hair, eyes swimming as they flit over me.
“Moonlight,” he says, the word coming out slow and soft. “The stars dancing around your head remind me of the moonlight I saw in your hair the night you rescued me.”
“Stars?” I glance up, expecting to find the glare of the stage lights or even fire sprites, but there’s nothing.
“Seven hells, you’re beautiful. Where did you get those stars?”
That’s when I realize something I should have known the minute he started being nice to me.
Dorian Ariko is positively inebriated.
27
Itake a step back from Dorian, a tide of panic rising inside me. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
His eyelids fall in a slow blink. “Not enough.”
“What did you drink?”
“The same thing I always get. Three mugs of ale and a Honey Badger.”
I let out a relieved sigh. Ale is very much a human libation, but anything fae-made could pose risks. While fae can imbibe in almost anything and experience nothing more than fleeting pleasure or a temporary alteration of mood, humans can experience disastrous consequences if they consume certain varieties of fae fruit. Especially for those who haven’t built up a tolerance. Considering Dorian lived in Bretton up until just over a week ago, he can’t be used to such elixirs yet. Luckily, it was just ale. Unless—
“What the shells is a Honey Badger?”
“Ale with a shot of Honey Pyrus.”
I roll my eyes. Well, that explains the hallucinations. Thankfully, it was only a shot, which means its effects should wear off soon.
“I had two of those this time,” he says, cheeks dimpled as his smirk returns. Then he waves his hand in a clumsy gesture. “But before that last one, I had one of…whatever you sent over for me.”
