My hips undulated and cascaded into the rolling of my belly. Spectators threw black petals at my feet while others reached for me. Some even attempted to jump on stage, briefly distracting me from the routine. Allory’s men that were stationed around the platform deterred the wildly aggressive crowd. They hadn’t been this rowdy last time.
My costume left little to the imagination—enticing men and women alike—but I still couldn’t fathom the audience’s obsession with me. I tuned them out and let myself pretend that tonight I was a dancer and nothing else mattered except the music.
For a while, it seemed to work. If this was my last night alive, at least I was doing something I loved.
With a demure smile, I curtsied as cheers and whistles deafened my ears. I could only hope my performance had been satisfactory enough for the king. Amid a blur of white clothing, candlelight, and shadows, I searched for him.
When my gaze snagged on a figure worthy of Allory’s description, I nearly tripped.There. That had to be him.
Seated at an intimate, low-to-the-ground table not far from the stage was a striking man with fair skin. His demeanor was calm yet commanding, contrary to the lustful enthusiasm from those around him. Even with a mask, his face was captivating.
A shiver coursed through me as I was guided back into the suite. I ensured every candle in the room was lit until only the scent of jasmine filled the air. I doused myself in more of the glittery tonic with shaking fingers. I buried my face in my hands, careful to avoid my lips contacting the glitter.
“Pull yourself together,” I rasped. It didn’t work. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t do this. I was going to die.Basilwas going to die?—
Heavy bootsteps scuffed from behind. I froze. Someone else was in the room with me.
Looming past my shoulders in the mirror’s reflection stood a masked figure donned in white boots, gloves, pants, a long-sleeved fitted tunic, and a scarf around his neck. Tendrils of black curls peeked from beneath his hood.
It was him. The man from the crowd.
King Zephyr.
I cleared my throat, raising my chin to greet the king of Gemini. He was only a man, a human, I reminded myself. Except he wasn’t; he was a Chosen. A royal with elemental magic, capable of sucking the air from my lungs with a twitch of his fingers. Capable of creating gusts strong enough to crush me with the flick of his hand.
Perhaps his gifts also included stealth, for I hadn’t heard him come in. Not a knock or even creak of the door. I wasn’t ready for what needed to come next. “It’s rude to enter without permission,” I blurted.
Great first impression.I recovered by bowing with lowered eyes. I could do this. I was adept at flirting—I simply needed to act the way I had for Markus.
“Apologies,” I said more breathily. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
His footsteps paused before slowly resuming. I held my breath until there was only silence. Heat licked at my back where he hovered. In the mirror, my gaze trailed and caught on his linen pants that stretched taut over muscled thighs.
He wasn’t just powerful in name or magic.
“Don’t stop there,” he crooned almost mockingly.
I frowned at his masked face in the reflection. His white-gloved hand reached out to touch a lock of my hair. I shivered in fear, the warmth of his body too close for comfort.
“Soyou’rethe Black Rose after all,” he murmured, head cocked to study the curl dangling between his fingers. “Fitting, or ironic?”
“Of course I am,” I said quickly, keeping my voice airy enough to sound like Yarah—Thusiah. I wondered what all she had been subjected to. A man of his power and a woman of her station… I didn’t have to guess. “What a pleasure to see you again.”
“You remember me?”
My chest heaved drastically in our reflection. The candles flickered around the room, illuminating only half of his pale, sharp face. While there was something familiar about him, I knew he was testing me.
“Before I dance, I’ll pour us some wine.” I twisted sharply. In my haste, my feet tripped over his. With a startledoof, my knees crashed into the ground. I looked up, my face mere inches from his groin.
“Is this what they call dancing these days?”
My parted lips gave way to a smirk. “You tell me.”
His head cocked inquisitively down at me. We remained in this scandalous position, the quietness stretching loudly between us. Perhaps he wanted me to take control. I reached for the band of his pants tucked under the hem of his shirt. His gloved hand caught my wrist. “What, exactly, is your intention here?”
Heart hammering, I purred, “To please you.”
He released his hold on me. “Do you know what I am?”
