“Eleanor,” I said to Morgaine, interrupting her conversation with her friends and Millie. “Would you like to dance?”
Her eyes flashed with anger and hatred, but she knew to refuse would only cause a scene. “I’d love to,” she ground out, and took the hand I offered. I led her to the middle of the dancefloor, took her hands, and we started to dance.
19
MORGAINE
“What are you doing?” I asked under my breath.
“I’m just enjoying the party, like everyone else.” That ridiculous smirk hadn’t left his face since he’d first caught my eye across the room. He scrubbed up well for a black-hearted witch killer, and I could see a few of the young women sneaking frequent glances at him, even while he was dancing with me. I had a mind to tell them exactly who they were pining for: their brand-new High Sheriff with his elite witch hunting skills and his hands covered in blood.
The man who had infiltrated their ranks in order to track me down, and would likely have them all arrested and executed the moment he didn’t need them anymore.
But that would only put a target on my own back. Millie might have appreciated my assistance as an experienced and skilled healer, but if she knew I was a witch would she feel differently? I still couldn’t be sure. Best to keep my identity secret, as I always had done. Self-preservation was the key to a long and happy life. Or it had been, until I’d become too attached to a young witchling and her death had set me down this dark and winding path towards self-destruction.
“What are you thinking?” Stefano asked. His breath smelled sweet as its warmth caressed my cheek. My lip curled.
“How much mead have you had?”
He chuckled. “Not much. I just thought this was the only way for us to have a private conversation without anyone overhearing or questioning why we’re talking alone.”
Private?In front of the entire gathering of the rebels? Yes, this conversation was definitely private.
“What is there to talk about?” I knew we had a lot to discuss, but I’d been enjoying the frosty atmosphere between us since the ritual failed, and despite knowing we couldn’t go our separate ways just yet, the distance had been refreshing. This closeness, with his muscled arms around me and the masculine scent of him filling my nostrils was…disconcerting.
His hand on my waist burned through the white dress I’d borrowed from Millie, and his voice was rough. “The plan to attack the castle will go ahead in a couple of days.”
“I heard,” I said, coolly. The way his brown eyes were focused solely on me was making my skin prickle uncomfortably.
“We need to talk about how it’s going to work, with this new damaged version of the bond.” He leant down closer to my ear as another couple danced past nearby. “It almost killed me to be so far away from you before, I doubt this bond will allow us to be as far apart as the Burrow and the castle.”
My breath had become shallow as his voice tickled my ear, his physical presence filling my senses. I shook it off; I was a grown woman, not some moony eyed maiden. “What are you saying?”
“You will have to come along on the mission. Make up some excuse; offer your healing abilities. Make yourself indispensable. Or we will both be forced to face the consequences if the bond disagrees with our separation.”
I knew he was right, but I wanted to argue with him. “And what if you’re killed? Or maimed? I’m supposed to just let you walk into an ambush and be captured because you can’t bear to lose face in front of these disorganised, shambolic idiots?”
He tilted his head, his voice thick with sarcasm. “I didn’t know you cared, Eleanor.”
“I don’t,Dante. But I don’t want to see you die moments before the bond takes me with you. I’d rather be the one doing the killing, once the bond is broken.” My chest rose quickly and I knew my cheeks were burning, but every time we argued I felt it. The burning fury I’d been pushing down for years. Centuries. And somehow, he brought it to the surface and let it rage until it fizzled out, without getting his fingers burned.
The song came to an end and I felt his arms begin to loosen, but I wasn’t ready for the conversation to be over. I tightened my grip on his wrist. “Stefano, I—” I didn’t know what I wanted to say. How could this frustrating man make me feel so confused?
He paused, waiting for my reply. Then his gaze softened, the smirk turned languid, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair back from my face, his lips parting to say something.
But he froze, his gaze caught on something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a young, blonde girl dancing with her mother. Her hair was almost the exact shade of Rosemary’s. I watched them both laughing and twirling for a moment, so joyful. So alive.
It felt like a knife had twisted in my heart.
I looked back at Stefano and his expression had smoothed, the smirk was back in place and his hand had returned to my shoulder.
“Forgive me, Eleanor. Where are my manners? Let me fetch you something to drink.”
I started to tell him I wasn’t thirsty, but he was gone, blending into the crowd until I couldn’t see his head of dark curlsabove everyone else’s any longer. I didn’t wait, I knew he hadn’t truly gone to fetch us refreshments.
I told Sal and Lavender I needed some fresh air, and made my way to the trapdoor. Stepping out into the moonlit courtyard I felt like I could finally breath, after days underground. The next new moon was still weeks away, and I didn’t know how much longer I could stay with the rebels without losing my handle on sanity. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that the attack on the castle would happen in just a few days; after that I could convince Stefano that we needed to find somewhere else to lay low. That our time with the rebellion had run its course, and we were at more risk of being found here than if we found another coven to hide out with until the ritual could be performed again.
The scent of roses filled my nostrils as I took a seat on a cold, stone bench and looked up at the sky. Stars blanketed the midnight blue, surrounding the sliver of moon peeking through.
