The night is just about perfect, save for the absence of Sin and Morgana. Rosie really came through with the snacks, and we roast hot dogs and marshmallows over the flames. Bottles of peach schnapps are being passed around, and a pile of empties is rapidly growing under the table.
The mood is jovial as we all let ourselves unwind for the night. I’m just roasting my seventh marshmallow when Morgana apparates into the cove. She gives me a tentative smile as she approaches the party.
She knows what I’m going to ask before I even get the chance to open my mouth.
“He’s okay, and he’ll be here,” she tells me over the music.
Blowing out my flaming marshmallow, I raise a brow. “How did you convince him to come?”
She grins at me in a way that I’ve never seen her do before. It’s mischievous.
So far, things have been strained between the two of us. I don’t think Morgana warms up to people very quickly, and I’ve been fairly standoffish, given the whole ‘she killed me once’ thing.
Ironic that she’s going to be killing me again.
Life is funny like that.
“He doesn’t want to come. He’s brooding,” she says, smiling smugly.
I frown at her. “But you said he was coming?”
Morgana winks at me, and it’s only a little odd, given her opaque eyes. “He will. Because once the party starts going, I’m going to tell him that you’redancing with Magnus and that he’s looking like he wants to give you a proper send-off.”
I choke on my marshmallow and then sputter laughing. “That is devious.”
Morgana grins. “He’s scared right now and needs the right motivation to push through the fear.”
I give her a warm smile. “Thank you for your help.”
She gives me a small smile in return. “He’s like a brother to me. There’s very little I wouldn’t do if it makes him happy. And you – you make him happy.”
My heart melts at her words, and Morgana saves me from any awkward emotional displays by getting up and raiding the snack table.
When I’m sure I couldn’t possibly have another bite of marshmallow, Magnus and Morgana move the driftwood seats back, and Rosie pulls us up to dance with her around the fire. I get lost in the pulse of the music, the volume so loud now that even yelling doesn’t carry over the beat.
Rosie twirls around the fire, looking completely unscathed by the flames that sometimes lick at her wings. More peach schnaps make their way around, and I’m just about positive almost everyone is drunk. To my credit, I only stumble a handful of times and manage not to land in the flames. I take turns dancing with all of them, spinning and waving our hands in the air as we make loop after loop around the fire.
Sweat coats my body from the heat, and I close my eyes, swaying my hips. A few breaths later, a pair of strong arms come around my waist, pulling me flush against a wall of solid muscle.
Smiling, I don’t even bother to open my eyes, already knowing exactly who’s holding me. Instead, I lean back into Sin, grinding back against him. His hands tighten before he spins me around to face him.
I open my eyes to look up at him, threading my arms around his neck as I continue to sway my hips to the beat. Sin’s eyes burn into mine, and the air between us feels charged as desire crackles between us.
I run my fingers through his hair, and Sin responds by pulling me closer and grinding against me. We dance like that for ages, lost in each other and not saying a word.
Finally, when I might keel over from thirst, I pull away from him, shocked to see that everyone else at the party has left. It’s just Sin and I on the beach.
I grin.
Why do I think that was an absolutely intentional move on their part?
Padding over to the snack table, I grab the small flask I stashed in a box of candy, downing most of it. I spot a tiny remote, half hidden under a chocolate bar wrapper, and lower the speaker’s volume so it’s only background noise.
Turning back to Sin, I find he hasn’t budged and is watching me intently. The shadows from the flames dance across him, making him look even fiercer than usual. My core tightens at the sight as I consider what we should do next.
I know exactly what I want to do.
There’s something about the whole ‘possibly my last night alive’ that does wonders for your confidence.
