"Of course," she said, taking his offered hand and ignoring the way her skin crawled at the contact. "I'd be honored."
Vex didn't dance. He circled. Every movement brought him closer, testing how much she'd allow. That lazy smile never wavered.
She kept her expression pleasant, but she didn't let herself relax into the dance. Didn't let her guard drop for a second.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured as they moved through the steps, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
"I don't know what you mean," she replied innocently, keeping her tone light.
"Of course you do. You're far too intelligent to pretend otherwise." His smile was knowing, almost approving. "The question is whether you're prepared for the consequences when he finally breaks. When that control he's so proud of shatters completely."
She let her gaze drift over his shoulder to where Dante stood.
His conversation with Aldric had died. He wasn't even pretending to listen anymore. His dark eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.
His hands were clenched so tight she could see his knuckles from across the terrace. His jaw was rigid. And his shadows were spreading across the floor, straining toward them.
This was what she'd wanted. To make him feel it. To make him understand what he was losing.
But hells, the way he was looking at her. Like she was the only thing in the room. Like he might burn down this entire paradise just to get to her.
"Perhaps he needs to break," she said quietly. "Perhaps some things are only valued when there's a real risk of losing them."
Vex's laugh was low and appreciative. "Clever. Ruthless, even. But be careful, sweet thing. Predators are most dangerous when cornered. Most unpredictable when they realize what they're about to lose."
She should have bristled at the endearment. But somehow, in thiscontext, it felt less possessive and more observational. Like he was acknowledging the game she was playing rather than trying to claim her as his own piece on the board.
"I can handle dangerous," she said.
"Can you?" Vex's gold eyes glittered. "I wonder if you know what you're really provoking. What happens when a Death Lord stops holding back.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine.
As the song ended, she stepped back from Vex with a polite smile, relief washing through her at putting distance between them even as she kept her expression serene.
She found herself facing a small line of potential partners. Word had spread through the gathering that the mysterious Lady Brynn, the one who'd transformed from uncertain tribute to something that commanded attention, was accepting all invitations to dance.
Several courtiers from various realms were eager to discover what the fuss was about.
She glanced once more toward Dante.
He hadn't moved. His eyes still burned with that desperate, barely leashed hunger.
She held his gaze for a long moment.
Then she turned away and accepted the next offered hand.
LVI.
DANTE
From across the terrace, Dante watched Caelum spin Brynn through a waltz, their movements graceful.
Separate. Cordial. Untouchable.
It was the performance they'd both committed to for the investigation's sake—the distance that was supposed to protect her from becoming a target. He understood the necessity. Had agreed to it himself.
He took a sip of wine, the taste bitter on his tongue, and tried to focus on anything else. The political conversations happening around him. The orchestrated displays of unity. The subtle power plays between courts.
