“You’re ridiculous,” I say, still smiling.
Kieran grins wider, clearly pleased. “You’ll find that’s part of my charm.”
Kieran glances around at the other dancers, then leans in slightly, a spark of challenge in his voice.
“I think we make better dance partners than this lot,” he says, eyes gleaming. “What do you say we show them how it’s done?”
I barely have time to protest before we’re spinning—the world a blur of firelight and color, music wrapping around us like wind. I tip my head back, laughing, dancing with Kieran. The warmth and freedom of the night soak through me.
Laughter bubbles up despite myself.
As we twirl again, my gaze drifts beyond the revelers—past torches, past music and movement—to the shadows watching from the edge.
I feel it before I see him—Thane, just beyond the firelight. Eyes locked on me.
He stands alone—half in shadow, half aglow. His expression is unreadable. But his eyes never leave me.
The Summer Solstice pulses with life around us—laughter, music, the thrum of drums echoing in the ground—but all of it fades to a hush in that moment. Even from here, the air tightens—thick with something unspoken.
Something burning beneath the surface.
Kieran’s voice pulls me back to the present, to the rhythm and heat of the dance.
“So,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips, “what do you think? We’re better than them, aren’t we?”
His confidence is infectious, and for a moment, I let it sweep me away—even as Thane’s gaze lingers like a shadow I can’t shake.
After several dances, I’m flushed. The music, the laughter, the press of bodies—suddenly, it’s too much. I murmur something about needing a drink and slip away, weaving through the crowd until the noise softens behind me.
I pour a cup of cool water first, drinking deeply, the crispness soothing my throat. But the tension doesn’t leave.
After a moment’s hesitation, I reach for the wine. I pour a generous serving, watching the deep red liquid swirl in the cup, catching the glint of firelight. Slowly, I bring it to my lips.
I hear his voice before I see him. Low. Smooth. Unmistakable.
“You look nice.”
My pulse stutters before I even turn.
I glance over my shoulder, my breath catching as Thane steps from the shadows. His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate, lingering just a moment too long.
I glance down, smoothing a hand over the fabric of my dress. Lyra and I went to the village days ago to shop for tonight. The fabric hugs my frame, falling just below the knee—but moves with me, light and unrestrictive.
His words are simple. But his gaze traces the lines of my dress—drinking me in.
Warmth curls through me.
I take a deep sip of wine, the floral notes sliding down my throat. It does little to steady me.
Being this close again—after months of training, of his hands adjusting my stance, pulling me up from the ground, pinning me down.
Each moment comes back in a flood. Charged. Electric. Unfinished.
Thane chuckles, low and warm. “The color suits you,” he says, eyes flicking to the green fabric. “Still keeping ties to Earth Clan?”
Torchlight flickers over him—black leathers fitted like armor. The fire-forged embroidery catches in the glow. He looks gorgeous—powerful, untouchable. My fingers tighten around the cup as his smoke-gray eyes pierce through me.
“Home sweet home,” I reply, taking another sip from my cup. My brow furrows slightly. “You’re still in your leathers? Were you out flying?”
