“It’s time.” Her voice twinkles with excitement. “You’re ready.”
Am I? Am I ready to walk into a room full of Fae who fear and despise me, to be the centre of their attention?
Absolutely not!
“Enjoy it, Alaya.” Saleen opens the door and gently pushes me through.
Tension rises with each step towards the Grand Ballroom. The castle halls almost look pretty—black-and-golden roses have sprouted everywhere, their petals catching the light.
I hear the murmurs before I see the doors. The golden panels pull open as I approach.
The crowd parts down the middle. Turns towards me as one.
I freeze.
All those eyes on me, brimming with contempt. The weight of their hatred presses against my chest, stealing my breath.
How did I ever think I could be worthy of him when his own people will never accept me?
I drop my head, shame burning through me as I stare at the floor. The weight of their gazes presses down on me, every pair of eyes a brand against my skin.
Then I hear it—footsteps cutting through the silence, rapid and purposeful. A voice roars across the hall, commanding and absolute.
“Music!”
My heart pounds as he reaches me. He extends his hand, and I take it without thinking, letting him lead me though I can’t bring myself to lift my head. He stops abruptly, then spins me to face him. His fingers find my chin, tilting it upward until I have no choice but to meet his eyes.
Pain lances through my heart when I see that mask of tension, rage flaring in those stunning green eyes. Then he relaxes. Smiles down at me. Another memory flashes—that same smile when I asked him to show me pleasure.
I keep my eyes on him as instructed, his words are so full of desire I clench, become slick instantly, and everything disappears.
The gathered Fae. The sweet melody floating through the air. Even the room itself.
We’re alone under the twinkling lights of stars in an inky black sky as his hand comes to my waist, settles on my hip. He takes my other hand in his and sparks fly, his Gift dancing between us where our skin meets.
He leans down, his breath hot against my ear.
“Happy birthday, Alaya.”
I gasp. He knows.
He spins us into the dance, and I don’t take my eyes from him. I can’t.
Then our kingdom explodes.
Chapter Thirteen
Alaya
The sound is deafening—a boom from above that shakes the entire Ballroom. Glass rains down in a deadly shower, tinkling bright against the marble floor.
Kiernan’s hand rips from mine. He’d just spun me in the dance, and I claw desperately to hold on, but my fingertips slip. The last thing I see is his outstretched hand, the pain in his eyes. Then I’m airborne, my dress billowing as I fly backwards. I hit the marble floor hard, the crack against my spine instant and all-encompassing. I keep sliding across the smooth marble until my head collides with something solid. The dull thud makes my ears ring, layering fresh agony over everything else.
Then—nothing.
I come to propped against the Ballroom wall, panic flooding through me.
Have I damaged my ears?
