Kael stood, pulling Alina up with him. “I have no rhythm,” she lied, suddenly shy, stumbling a little.
“That’s why you follow my lead,” he said. His hands found her waist, warm and sure. Her own slid up to his shoulders, and he drew her closer, until there was no space between them but breath and possibility. His body pressed flush against her. Alina couldn’t hide a shiver as she registered every tiny detail. The strong frame, the firm muscles, the taut belly, the large, warm hands. Each and every single finger. She wanted to never stop feeling him, to hang on tight for the rest of her existence.
They swayed. At first, Alina counted every step, every movement, terrified she’d ruin it. But the wine, the fire, the press of Kael’s hands…all of it combined to erase her self-consciousness. Soon, she was lost in the music, the world around them shrinking to the two of them.
“You smell like honey,” he said, voice low.
“I rolled myself in it the whole afternoon.”
“Now that’s a sight I would have loved to see.” His voice was pure velvet—exactly as she had imaginedit all these weeks, lying alone and freezing in her cot. Desire flamed deep in her belly, spreading like warm, oozing liquid through her core. Honey, indeed.
Kael’s hair fell across his forehead, and, impulsively, she reached up to brush it away. His eyes went soft, almost vulnerable, and he squeezed her waist in response. They turned, and now her cheek was against his chest. His pulse thrummed, wild and nervous, and Alina couldn’t help but smile, proud to have done that to him.
He murmured something, and she felt it more than heard it. “You make it too easy to forget everything else.”
She pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “That’s the idea, isn’t it? For tonight, at least.”
They turned again, a little off-balance, and nearly collided with another pair. Alina giggled as Kael caught her by the elbows, holding her steady. It left their faces inches apart, breath mingling.
“Perhaps we’ve had enough wine,” he murmured, but made no move to let her go.
“I think we’re supposed to keep dancing,” Alina replied, but her voice was soft, her words sticking together.
He bent his head, and for a moment she thought he’d kiss her. Instead, he nestled his face into the place where her neck met her shoulder, inhaling deeply. His embrace tightened, pressing her to him. She could have sworn the world stopped. Her heart did anyway.
Then, from the edge of the square, a group of children set off a cluster of lanterns. The sky erupted with little bursts of light, everyone cheering. The spell was broken.
They came apart and Kael rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish.
He caught her gaze from under his brows and let out a shaky laugh. “Saved by the rabble.”
For an awkward moment they stood, but then he took her hand again and they started walking away from the square, neither of them eager to return to the noise or the reality waiting beyond the circle of warmth. They walked in silence, but it was easy; they needed no words to understand what was being communicated.
They had been found lodgings in separate houses just beyond the main street, simple cottages with clean floors and beds that didn’t collapse when sat upon. Hers was the first they reached and she turned to face Kael in the moonlight.
He hesitated, hands in his pockets. For the first time, he looked uncertain.
“Well,” he said, drawing the word out. “We’ll need our wits tomorrow, if we want to survive the festival’s aftermath.”
“Is that your way of saying goodnight?” she laughed, leaning back against the door.
Kael shrugged, looking down. “I never was much good at endings.”
Alina reached out, caught his hand, and squeezed. “Then don’t end it.”
He looked up, and in that moment, she saw every hope and fear reflected in his eyes. He stepped forward, crowding her against the door, but did not kiss her. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers and just breathed, slow and steady.
His lips brushed her temple, lingering. “Goodnight, Alina.”
She watched him go, every sense alive.
When she finally slipped inside, her skin still tingled where his hand had held hers.
Alina sat on the edge of her bed, the darkness alive with the memory of his touch. Tomorrow would come, and with it all the uncertainty and danger and heartbreak of the world.
But tonight, she would dream of him.
She wondered if he would, too.
