A curious look washes over his face, and his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, less like he’s performing for the other royals. “I’ll teach you.”
I bite my lip, my heart pounding like a wild animal desperate to escape.
“Come on,” he coaxes, his voice low and inviting, a gentle pull that tugs at something deep inside me. “It’ll be fun.”
Fun.The gods know I haven’t had much of that in my life. I hesitate, caught between the desire to escape this reality and the unexpected pull of his cheerful confidence. It’s as if his grin tugs at something unfamiliar in my chest, a spark of longing I can’t quite place.
Reluctantly, I place my hand in his, and the moment our skin touches, an unexpected jolt of energy races through me, igniting every nerve ending. “Okay.”
King Ashton leads me onto the dance floor, and the crowd parts to make room for us, their eyes following our every move. Anxiety builds inside of me as I become the focus of the fae.This was a mistake. I’m going to make a fool of myself.
The music shifts, slower now, the melody wrapping around us like a warm embrace. He places one hand on my waist, firm yet gentle, and keeps the other clasped around my hand, guiding me effortlessly to a tune I’ve never heard, a dance I’ve never imagined. My other hand rests on the top of his shoulder, not really knowing what to do. There’s a strange intimacy in the way he holds me, a connection that sends my pulse stuttering.
To my surprise, I don’t stumble. I don’t step on his feet or tumble to the ground. I just… let the fae king lead me in this odd dance. The world blurs around us, the other fae fading away into a swirling background of colors and sound. And it’s strange how familiar this all is, as if we’ve danced this way a million times before, in another life.
“You’re better at this than you let on,” he says, his brown eyes glinting with amusement.
“It’s all you,” I confess.
“It’s not. Trust me, I know. I’ve had many poor dance partners, more than I can count,” he says, leaning in slightly, his gaze fixed on my face with open fascination.
I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I look down, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his attention. I'm… no one. Less than no one. I’ve been told that every day since I was ten years old. Why are these fae kidding themselves into thinking I'm special?
I nibble my lip. “Well, maybe we’ve been dancing long enough…”
He looks surprised, as if he can't fathom why I would want to stop. “Done already? Surely you want to dance longer?” His tone is light, playful, but there’s an underlying seriousness that tugs at my heart.
I do want to, but I don’t. “This just feels strange. You. Me. Everyone.”
“Strange but fun?” he asks, lifting a brow, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“I don’t know.”
His voice drops, low and intimate, as if we’re the only two people in the room. “I think you enjoy my company more than you let on.”
“Huh?”
He tugs me just an inch closer. “I think I’m just what you need.”
“What are you doing?” I ask, confused and a little alarmed at the way the energy has shifted between us.
“Why, I’m flirting with you, Alette. Don’t they do that in the human world?” he replies, his tone so casual, so sincere, that it takes me a moment to process his words.
It wasn’t obvious before, but now it is.
There’s something intoxicating about his attention. But along with that warm feeling, there’s a nagging voice in the backof my mind, reminding me that this is all just a game to him, a performance for the other fae and a way to keep me on his side, to do the quest. Because all he wants is his connection to the elements back. I study him, searching for any hint of deception behind his dazzling smile and playful remarks.
I’ve never been great at reading people, but I know in my gut that the man before me is hiding some aspect of himself. There’s something lurking beneath the surface, something dangerous and bloodthirsty that I can’t quite grasp. It’s the same thing that all the fae are hiding tonight.
Before I can dwell on it further, a voice cuts through the music. “Well, isn’t this cozy,” someone sneers, the disdain thick in their tone.
I glance over my shoulder and see King Oberon standing near the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes locked onto me and King Ashton, his scowl deeper than usual. Or maybe not. This guy has done nothing but scowl since I met him. All the kings make me nervous, but no one more than the king of the fire fae.
“What do you want, King Oberon?” King Ashton asks, his tone light but his posture stiffening, the air between them charged with tension.
“I want to dance with her,” King Oberon says, stepping forward with unsettling confidence.
“She’s already dancing with me,” King Ashton replies smoothly, refusing to relinquish his hold on my waist, his grip firm.
