CHAPTER THIRTY #2
“Different from dancing alone?” Collin whispered as we continued to move around the floor.
“Yes,” I breathed, and he turned me again, my back against his front. I was ready this time as he trailed his hand along my arm, but my body shivered against my will as I felt his breath hit my neck, heard his inhale as he breathed me in.
“You dance very well,” Collin commented as he spun me to face him. The music began to build, the end approaching. “You enjoy it.”
It wasn’t a question, his sapphire eyes assessing me. “I do. It quiets my mind.”
“Is your mind often not quiet?” Collin asked, his gaze piercing.
He spun me a final time, the music swelling and crescendoing, until again, joy sparkled through me.
The music down swelled, and his right hand held my left above our heads, our bodies pressed flush together, my chest heaving against his. We were in his living quarters; he was begging me to say no. I clamped my mouth closed, my gaze on his lips. The moment dissolved with the music.
Collin released my hand, stepping back from me. Without the music, I realized my heart was carrying its own frenzied beat. My cheeks felt warm, but there was a lightness under it all that only music and running had ever given me.
“Would you like another dance?” Collin inquired. The next song started, dozens of Elite couples joining the floor. It was a faster-paced dance with more spins and passing partners.
My heart begged for another go, but I said, “I would love a drink.”
Collin looked away as he nodded, and his firm hand guided me from the dance floor. I forced myself to look ahead even as my body protested, desperate to join them. Collin pushed to the outskirts as Elites bowed. The suffocating feeling returned.
Everywhere I looked, brightly colored gowns met me.
I wondered if I could ever look like them, the simpering smiles.
Their insipidness was as foreign to me as this ball—a part of me content with that never changing.
My black gown was a glaring mark to their cheerful display.
I was not the stars at all but the unending darkness, threatening to suffocate their Elite light.
An attendant appeared, holding a silver tray with bubbles. Collin grabbed two delicate glasses, handing me one. The man disappeared.
Collin took a long drink, looking over my shoulder, and he shook his head a fraction.
“What?” I asked.
“You will wish you stayed on the dance floor in a moment,” Collin whispered. “Remember what I told you.”
“Collin,” I heard behind me.
“Do not bow to them,” Collin muttered under his breath as he gently turned me. “Alan,” Collin said, any warmth dissipating. The Elite man had short, dirty blond hair and piercing gray eyes.
“So, this is your Mate everyone has been talking about, the one worthy of you,” Alan said, sweeping his eyes over me before bowing. I placed my hand in his and he placed a small peck upon it. “Charmed to meet you, Ms. Emeline. I think this union will be beneficial for us all and our storied peace.”
Flustered, I looked at Collin, who smoothly said, “Yes, we both feel the same.” I attempted a smile before taking a sip of my drink.
“I won’t pretend there weren’t many Elite prospects eager for the role as your Mate, Collin. But there is always your next mating.”
My insides hollowed out. His next mating. I hadn’t really thought about what my life would look like beyond the next four years.
“We shall see. I have no intentions for a second mating.” Collin looked straight ahead, avoiding my gaze.
“Ah, well, I daresay your sister can carry on with the distribution of your genes within the Elite population. It is her duty to the Greater Good,” Alan said.
I took a sip to hide my disgust.
“You both must be thrilled to have entered your second moon cycle,” Alan continued, grabbing a glass from a passing tray.
A shock ran through me. We were in the second moon cycle. One moon cycle closer to our procreation phase. My days down to sixty.
“An Illum offspring will be a blessing. There hasn’t been one in my seventy years of life.”
This time, I didn’t hide my shock. The man didn’t look past forty.
“We are delighted to have the first Illum offspring in over a hundred years for the Greater Good,” Collin said.
Once again, my mind reeled, desperate to know why he would choose me for something so important. A warmth touched my lower back—Collin, reminding me where I was.
“To the Greater Good,” Alan said, raising a glass.
I downed the rest of my drink. “The Press published a wager on how many moons it shall take you two. Given her disposition, the most popular guess is two moons. Surely no one would fault you if you decided not to wait, Collin. Give those of us who wagered only one better odds.” The man winked at Collin.
“Glad to know we can provide the Elite with needed entertainment,” Collin stated. I felt like a prized breeding animal.
Two more Elite members joined our conversation. I missed their names as Collin grabbed my empty glass, replacing it with a full one. I took a sip immediately, washing away the revulsion.
“I have to say,” another male said to me. I didn’t dare guess his age this time. He had jet-black hair and brown eyes and a pompous smile. “It is honorable for you to continue to live among the Minors on the ground to help our cause in this ridiculous Reaper business.”
“Yes,” Alan agreed. “Your commitment to root out this evil is most commendable. We, the Elite, find ourselves surprisingly in your debt. The Illum chose a worthy vessel.”
What exactly had Collin been telling them? I took another sip, resisting the urge to throw it in Alan’s face.
“However, it would seem the Reaper received your message from the dinner, Collin,” Alan continued. “He has been quiet for some time now.”
“Scared, I’d say,” another man sneered.
“As he should be.” Collin’s hand sprawled on my lower back. I felt nauseous.
“Does she not speak?” the other man asked.
“Would that be a bad thing?” Alan chuckled. “Is there any use in her words?”
“Elite manners are the great distinguishing factor between a civilized mind and a defective one,” the other added. “Perhaps there is weight to the debate of whether Minors are capable of being reformed.”
I opened my mouth as two things happened: Someone said my name and Collin turned me away from the men.
“Emeline,” Nora greeted me smoothly. She wore an off-the-shoulder golden gown, tiny chains crossing her exposed back.
It was eerily similar to my blue gown. She curtsied before linking her arm through mine.
“There you are. If you’ll excuse us,” Nora said with a honeyed smile, “but if I do not steal my soon-to-be sister now, I daresay my brother will hog her all night.”
“For obvious reasons,” one of the talking heads joked.
“I promise to return her for a dance soon, brother,” Nora told Collin, who simply nodded at her before he captured my hand and placed a kiss upon it, and that magnetic power tugged on me.
Nora pulled me away as I heard one of the men say, “There is no way you make two more moons.”
“It will be a testament to my willpower if I do.” I felt Collin watching me as we walked away.
Nora leaned into me. “I am sorry I didn’t come sooner. I just saw Collin’s signal.”
“Collin’s signal?” I asked as we stopped on the opposite side of the ballroom.
“Yes, to rescue you,” Nora said, grabbing a glass. A golden ring with a large emerald gleamed on her finger. “Like my dress?” Nora asked, swishing golden fabric about. “I was inspired.”
“I like the color,” I told her.
“How have you been? I am sorry we haven’t gotten together. I wanted to reach out, but I had my visiting days for Arabella and James. Eleana’s is next week.”
“How are your offspring?” I asked.
“They are healthy and well cared for.” Nora smiled sadly. “Still, the goodbyes seem to get harder. I usually find it difficult to leave my bed afterward. It’s why I didn’t reach out.”
“I assumed you heard my argument with Collin and decided against being my friend.”
Nora tilted her head. “Why would you think that?” She waved over a man in gray carrying a tray.
“Well, he’s your twin,” I stated, like it should be obvious.
Nora shook her head, grabbing several sweets from the tray and handing them to me before taking some for herself.
“Don’t go far,” she warned the man before eating a delicate dessert. “I am more than aware of how enraging he can be. I do not fault you. Collin has always acted first and informed later,” Nora said, rolling her eyes.
“But Nora, I am a Minor. Why would you want to be my friend?”
She smiled, her eyes traveling over every inch of me. “I do not see a Minor. Even with your eyes, Emeline. I see a woman who has been treated unfairly.”
I remembered the day I had met her. My defect had been exposed, and she hadn’t said anything.
I took a bite of the food, praying it would carry the knot in my throat away. The drinks had left me dizzy. Or maybe it was the conversations or the incessant noise of my thoughts. I didn’t know anymore.
I glanced up at the stars, my thoughts and feelings as endless as the sky above. Was that why I was always at war with myself—perpetually enraged by the depth I always carried? The peace it stole from me?
“I can see you discrediting yourself,” Nora said softly.
“I will not try to dissuade you. I know better.” She searched the dance floor.
I was sure she was seeking out a certain man with brutally short hair.
“If any of my offspring had been deemed a Defect at birth, I would love them all the same. We women, regardless of status, are all vessels in the procreation system. We are all alike if we care to see it.”
“You believe that?”
Nora turned toward me, her eyes burning with the fierceness she sometimes showed. “With everything I am. I hope one day we’re more. Arabella is almost of age—I cannot stand the idea of one of these men with his hands on her.”