The confluence of bodies made even the vast presence chamber heat up. I was a frost witch. Ice, real or metaphorical, flowed in my veins. But my cheeks still felt flushed.
A cool breeze slipped beneath my hair, down the nape of my neck, and across my collarbones. I recognized what—and who—it was. He’d been silently hovering since Garrick left.
“Dance with me.”
What an absurd proposition. The dance floor—just the center of the circular room, a swirling eddy that moved and glided around the dais—was even more packed than the perimeter where we stood.
“Do I have to?”
Letting him touch me gave him power. Yes, I’d let him take me in the throes of my despair and confusion. That was about release. Garrick had ensured I had plenty of release every single night since we’d returned from the Peace Gate. But letting Syleris put his arms around me for another purpose? It would be too easy to get swept away. Even if that sort of distraction sounded like the next thing to heaven at that moment.
“You want to.”
“Just for tonight, can we speak aloud?” I did not want to spend any more time in my own head than necessary. He must have seen my distress. And for once, he decided not to actively contribute to it.
“Yes,” Syleris said simply. He no longer hid behind me. He was at my side, hand extended in open invitation.
Why did he try so hard to stop me from hating him?
Worse—what if he wasn’t trying at all?
One hand in mine, cupping my palm. Distinctly different from the way Garrick always tangled our fingers together. Still a perfect connection. The other hand at my waist, drumming out a pattern with his long, elegantly tapered fingers against the layers of soft flesh beneath the velvet.
Syleris did not speak at all as he swept me out onto the dance floor. He did not speak into my mind as he led us deftly through the swirl of fae courtiers, lending me his otherworldly grace witheach step. Nor did he speak aloud as my body moved against his. We were not the only ones in a close embrace. Garrick had said that was the point of this night. But despite the hard planes of the male holding me, my mind was elsewhere.
Far away, long ago, on a frostbitten night in a dark forest.
I stared at the gold and silver brocade pattern embroidered into Syleris’ vest.
“It is my death date.”
This winter solstice marked three hundred and seventy-seven years exactly since my resurrection.
His chest moved up and down. “I am aware.”
From one angle, the pattern looked like leaves. From another, distorted stars. It was easier to study his vest than to let myself feel. “It makes me…” I felt nothing. Everything. Unmoored. “I don’t know.”
Syleris stroked his thumb along the back of my hand. “You don’t have to tell me. I can see it all. Feel it all.”
As much as it was an invasion, it was also a relief.
He could see the mess that was inside of me, and still he did not turn away. Still, he chose me as his forever. He saw the darkness, the deep desires I tried to hide even from myself. Maybe it was because evil lived inside of him, as well.
I’d made peace with my crime against Rylynn inside the Peace Gate. Could I make peace with the darkness inside of myself, as well?
“I died on the longest night of the year. Maybe I was always meant to be a witch.”
Syleris hummed. I felt it in his chest. He did not release my hand or my waist. But some impulse or silent communication let me know that he wanted me to raise my chin and look at him. His eyes were waiting. Black, yes. But striated with crooked lines of blue that throbbed with power.
“You were meant to be mine,” he said.
I did not know if I believed in fate or predestination. But in his arms, I could not argue the truth of those words. It was their stark, unyielding truth that gave me the courage to ask the questions that had burned in my mind since the Dark God began to open himself to me.
“You are the Dark God. You created the Unknown Gate. You were party to the curse. Doesn’t this opulence bother you?”
Syleris’ gaze went distant, over my shoulder, but not to the crowd of other dancers and onlookers. He went to another time and place. Maybe even another world.
“The fae have not changed,” he finally said. “I did not expect them to.”
