“Fuck,” I grumbled, fists clenching and unclenching. I wanted to go find him, but I was torn between not wanting to start something I knew wouldn’t end well—because Mase had it right when he said it was different with Dathal—and marching right onto that dance floor and staking my claim.
Goddess, help me.
I might as well club him on the head and throw him over my shoulder while I was at it. Except from what I’d experienced of Dathal so far, I’d likely end up with my throat slit if I tried anything like that.
Why I found that thought hot was anyone’s guess.
“Nick,” Mase whispered, catching my hand as I stepped forward. He waited until I glanced his way before speaking. “Think carefully before you do anything.”
“Why? I’m not proposing marriage. Only sex, if Dathal’s interested. Nothing more.”
Mase’s eyebrows scrunched together. “But I thought…”
“What did you think? I’m not you, and Dathal isn’t Rys. I like him, and I want to fuck him, and hopefully he feels the same. That’s all. Don’t go reading anything else into it.” If I said it enough times, maybe I’d believe it because that was all it could be.
If I was a smart witch, I’d leave Dathal well alone.
But no one had ever accused me of being that.
Shrugging out of Mase’s grip, I walked slowly towards the dance area, scanning the crowd as I went. Predictably, Mase got up and joined me. “Where’s Max tonight?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed his arrival. “I thought he said he was coming.”
Mase sighed. “Sorry, I was meant to pass on his apologies. He and Jake had pack business crop up at the last minute. Max sounded less than pleased about it, so I didn’t ask.”
“Fair enough.” Whatever else I might have said on the subject died on my tongue as we reached the edge of the dance floor. Axel was easy to spot, dancing with his head back and his eyes closed, sandwiched between a couple of men who looked as though they could snap him in two if they wanted.
Dathal was nowhere to be seen.
I scanned the floor again. Maybe I’d missed him?
Nope.
No sign of silver hair other than on Axel.
Where the fuck was he?
Had he already found someone and left? No. He’d have walked past us and I’d sure as fuck have noticed that.
My feet took on a mind of their own and I found myself heading into the throng of people in front of me, intent on reaching Axel. Whatever sixth sense fae possessed seemed unaffected by the club’s magical inhibitor, because Axel disentangled himself from his dance partners and turned to greet me with a smile just as I came up behind him.
“Nick,” he said, filthy smirk in place. “Fancy seeing you here.” Stepping up to me, he slipped his arms around my neck. “Dance with me.”
I shook my head, but Axel tsked. “One dance.” He winked and shimmied closer. Those shorts hid nothing, and it was a testament to how much I wanted Dathal that I didn’t react to Axel rubbing up against me.
Well, not much anyway.
I wasn’t dead.
“I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he added, and when I looked pointedly at the arms he already had draped over my shoulders, his grin turned wicked. “Mostly.”
Fuck it.
It wasn’t like I could search the whole club for Dathal. If he hadn’t come looking for me, then maybe I should accept that he wasn’t interested. “One dance,” I muttered, setting my hands on his hips, more to stop him from grinding against me than anything else. Not that I thought he would. But the mischievous gleam in his violet eyes made me wary. “And keep your dick to yourself.”
He laughed loudly, head tipped back, the long, pale column of his throat inviting. I could see why shifters gravitated towards him.
Again, unwelcome thoughts pushed their way into my head. Was that where Dathal had gone? Off somewhere with fuckingSyrian. I closed my eyes, refusing to let myself succumb to the jealousy threatening to overwhelm me. I had no right to it. Dathal was free to do whatever and whoever the fuck he wanted, and I had no business getting pissy about it.
“You know,” Axel said, pulling my head down so I’d hear him. “Sex with a fae is different when they have magic like Dathal’s.”
