When she hung suspended by just her thighs, her hands reaching towards the floor, the room collapsed into a singularity of want. I watched her, my balls tight while I gripped the glass so hard I felt like it would shatter. Every twist, every curve, every sharp inhale she made pulled me deeper. And against my better judgement, I couldn’t look away. I struggled against the bone-deep desire to touch her— an urge both beautiful and savage.
The crowd shifted, whispers slithering through shadows as Violet danced. I caught the flash of sharp teeth, the low rumble of hungry voices, the subtle pulse of power from creatures I’d learned to fear long ago. The vampyre twins nearby leaned closer, fingers brushing against each other while their eyes never left her. A wolf’s growl vibrated from another in the corner, too dark to see except for his profile. Even Andy, that siren bastard, watched with a face split between awe and hunger. Danger saturated the air, but Violet moved as if she were the most dangerous thing in the room.
Don’t you fucking look at her, I wanted to snarl. Bare my teeth in a possessive instinct as every safeguard screamed at me to snatch her off that stage and vanish into the night.
Instead, I smiled, because for as much as they craved her, they would not break the safety that is their hidden world, and as much as I hatedto admit it, there was a perverse pleasure in knowing she would walk out with me and not another. She had chosen this path and—as reckless as it was—the fire in her had always burned beyond my control.Beyond anyone’s control, really.Hers was a fire I had no right to extinguish. I would walk out with her in my arms, burning just as Icarus had done.
I loosened my grip on my drink; every cell in my body wanted to break anyone who dared breathe in her direction. Instead, I focused on her, burning into memory every flick of her wrist, every stretch of muscle, every subtle arch of her spine. As the thin scraps of fabric fell away, my heart quickened just like everyone else’s.
Her body curved around the pole, sliding down with a controlled precision that I knew had to require a rock-hard core and steel-trap willpower. Her nipple piercings caught the light, tiny glints of metal against flesh as her fingers reached for that last piece of her outfit. And then. . . she smiled.
Ah, gods above and below, she was desire made manifest.
When she completed that final spin, her body flowing down the pole in one liquid motion, an uncomfortable truth I’d buried beneath survival and cynicism began to take root. I wondered what it would feel like to have her cunt wrapped around me—would she ride me with that same wild abandonment? Would she smile the same way as her legs wrapped around my shoulders, forcing me to taste her? I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and groaned into my glass.
There in Oubliette, surrounded by immortal predators with appetites both ancient and depraved, I knew with a bone-deep certainty I would sacrifice anything to shield her and to keep her safe. Dangerous thoughts lingered in my mind, like a wound slowly beginning to fester, daring me to wish for something beyond what I had told myself was possible with my childhood friend.
Fuck.
Chapter 9
Violet
Jules practically danced beside me as I stepped down from the stage, fabric clutched to my chest. My lungs burned, heartbeat rattling against ribs, realizing I’d overestimated my stamina. Pole dancing for an audience is nothing like riding Hyacinth across open fields or the movements of jiu-jitsu. My body ached in ways I had forgotten.
“Oh my God, Alexis! That was magnificent!” Jules squealed, grabbing my hands, her garnet nails glinting as she bounced on her heels. “I haven’t seen anyone dance that well since, well, me, of course.”
The irony tasted bittersweet. “Thanks,” I managed, the word scraping my throat raw.
“Come on,” she urged, tugging me towards the back. “Let’s get you changed before you freeze.”
But I feel too hot,I almost wanted to whine. I was sweating, dizzy from the high of endorphins.
To think I hadn’t performed in. . . well, since before I was killed.The dark thought slithered forth as I fought to push it back down.
Back in the changing room, I wiped the sweat off my body and slipped back into my street clothes. The only item that stayed the same were my heels and I regretted not bringing a pair of flats when my feet screamed against the cold floor, blisters forming where the heels had rubbed my skin raw.
It would take a few months for calluses to form, I thought then realized, I was already planning on doing this for a long time.Or however long ittakes, I chided myself. I didn’t care what demon I was trading with, I wanted Edward served on a meathook.
I finished, and was startled when I caught my reflection. There stood a woman I almost didn’t recognize: dark brown nearly black hair streaked with red and clinging to temples, eyes bright with adrenaline and the deepest flush. I looked tired but. . . like I just had finished the best fuck session of my life. I laughed to myself. I tried to fix my tousled hair and failed.
Stepping back out, I met with Jules who was speaking with another dancer, the lovely redhead I had watched earlier.
Jules was nodding excitedly. “Yes, it’s a lovely fit. You'll be able to take a break for a bit.”
The girl squealed and gave Jules a big hug and I watched in fascinated mortification as their well endowed breasts squished comically together.
“Oh, thank you Jules!” The redhead said and then saw me. “And you! What a killer set. You were so amazing.” Her praise brought another flush to my face and I mumbled a thank you.
“You were so lovely on stage.” I provided, motioning to her gorgeous emerald green piece she wore. “And you look so cute. I really adore that color.”
“Thanks. It’s cliche but green looks good on our pale skin and red hair.” She pointed to her red curls that I was immediately jealous of when I saw how tight and glossy they were. “I’m Brianna by the way. My friends call me Bri. Stage name is Red which seems silly but my patrons love it.”
She gave me her hand and I felt self conscious shaking it. “Are you Irish by any chance?”
She nodded. “Don’t have much of the accent. How could you tell?”
I smiled. “Oh, the Stablemaster at the school has a similar lilt.”
