His smile curved, sharp as a blade. “Sweetie, that wasn’t a compliment. It was a warning.”
The words stole my breath. My fingers tightened against his shoulder. “Maybe you should try looking away, then.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound low and rough, like it had been pulled from somewhere deep.
“Oh, no,” he smiled, voice dropping as he spun me back into his chest. “I think I’d rather let myself burn.”
His words made me stiffen.
The dance pulled us through both light and shadows, and for the first time that night, I felt seen. Not feared, not resented, butseen. When the music ended, Malakai released me without lingering, though his gaze held mine for a moment longer, like a promise.
Only when he stepped back did I realise how quiet the ballroom had become. Lionel was watching from the end of the room, his expression unreadable. There was a storm in his eyes, and I couldn’t tell if it was anger, hurt, or both.
CHAPTER
26
My chest felt too tight, cornered by the eyes of the two men who made my head heavy with thoughts and confusion.
Lionel was still watching from the other side of the ballroom, shoulders tense, jaw set. The distance between us was like a chasm, but I couldn’t even begin to cross it—not with the weight of the fear of causing more damage between us, not with my own heart pounding like it was about to set me on fire from the inside out.
“Well.” Ashley appeared at my side, like a spark catching dry powder, looping her arm through mine before I was able to react. She was grinning like a cat who found a whole pantry of cream.
“That,” she whispered, dragging me towards the edge of the floor, “was the hottest thing I’ve seen all week. You, miss girl-on-fire, are officially a war crime.”
I blinked at her, heat still burning under my skin. “Ashley—”
“No, no, don’t even try to play innocent.” She lifted her eyebrow, casting a pointed glance at Malakai, who was still standing where I left him, hands clasped behind hisback, entirely too composed. And then at Lionel, whose glare could cut steel.
“You’reglowing, Ethalyn. Literally, look.” She gestured to my hands, and sure enough, tiny sparks were still dancing at my fingertips.
I snatched my hands back against my skirts, mortified, but Ashley cackled.
“Relax, if anything, you made half this ballroom fall in love with you.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially, as she leaned in. “And, judging by those faces—” she jerked her chin at Malakai and Lionel. “—you might’ve started a war between those two. Which, for the record, I fully support, as long as I get a front-row seat.”
I groaned, pressing my free hand to my face. “You are not helping.”
“Oh, I’m helping,” she chuckled cheerfully, tugging me towards the refreshment table. “Trust me, what you need right now is a drink and someone to tell you that you just owned this entire ballroom. Leave the brooding boys to sort themselves out. Or fight. Preferably with their shirts off.”
Despite myself, I laughed, a short, shaky sound that loosened something in my chest. I adored Ashley, she always knew exactly what to say to cheer someone up. She was my knight in shining armor, and she was well aware of it. I watched happily as many of the Aetherions invited Mey up for a dance—and rightfully so, she looked stunning. Nate stuck to chatting with people, rather than dancing, almost acting a bit nervous.
Right, none of us were used to this, we were used to starvation and muddy slums… at times like these, all of that felt like a horrible nightmare that we had awoken from. Eve kept to the sideline, I wondered if she had even allowed herself to relax and dance, or if she was too busy eyeing Lionel still.
The ball was drawing to a close, with polite applause and the faint smell of smoke from too many candles. Some people kept dancing, others scurried away, but Lionel was nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll be right back,” I nodded to Ashley. She waved at me, gobbling down a drink before she went to prank Nate.
I found him outside, on a balcony that faced towards the gate, staring at the moonlit village as if it personally offended him. The night air was cold enough to bite, and the stars overhead were too bright, too sharp.
“Lionel?” I kept my voice soft.
He didn’t look at me. “Shouldn’t you be inside? Withhim?”
The words struck like a slap. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He finally turned, and his expression was something I had hardly seen from him; not only anger, but hurt so raw, its only rival was his face in the forest when he had seen my fires the first time.
“You think I didn’t see it?” His voice was low, shaking. “The way he looks at you? The way youlet himlook at you?”
