CHAPTER THIRTY #3
The music changed, an upbeat song replacing the slow, melancholy one. Nora’s face shifted as she bounced on the tips of her toes, looking wildly around us. “I told William I would meet him on the dance floor for this song. It is my favorite.”
“Go,” I told her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, go,” I assured her.
“I’ll find you after,” she exclaimed as she pranced to the dance floor, ditching her glass with one of the many men in gray.
I watched her meet William, smoothing her dress, before a quick curtsy and the song began. I stood mesmerized as she danced, her joy lighting up the entire room. Her lithe steps shined upon the dance floor.
She switched to another partner, staying in his arms for just a moment, and her smile spilled into the sky above. Gregory held her, spinning her. He smiled too—a real one. Time slowed. I swore even the stars halted their celestial dance as two souls held each other.
I stood in awe of this one moment they had in front of others, their true feelings on display. A private moment disguised by the masses as nothing but a dance. No one saw the way Gregory’s fingers dug into Nora’s back, the desperation there.
I wished I could capture this, immortalize what they had, that their love existed in a world that told us it couldn’t.
Gregory released her, and Nora spun away, landing in William’s arms, her smile shifting as the moment ended, and the stars filled the room again.
“Emeline,” a hesitant voice said to my left.
I turned to find my birth mother staring at me as she had in the Sphere, as if overwhelmed by my presence. I looked for words to say to her, but nothing came as the air thickened around us.
“I am glad to see you here tonight. It is nice seeing you in the clouds.” She came to stand beside me, her long-sleeve purple gown spilling around her.
All I heard was her parting advice. Look down, Emeline. I lifted my chin.
I would never look down again. I stood in silence, my words too tangled with my anger. It snaked up my spine until my skin crawled. Regardless of how she truly felt about me, she had still made a choice—still chosen my birth brothers over me, never deigning to even visit me in the Minor Academy.
“He seems happy, doesn’t he?” Helen stated carefully. I tracked her gaze to Gregory, who spun Nora once more.
“If you say so,” I stated, watching Gregory’s face fall the moment Nora left his arms.
“Are you”—she cleared her throat—“happy, with your Mate, I mean?”
My chest burned viciously. I twisted the button on my sleeve. “Does it matter? No one cares for my happiness, Helen.” The word mother caught on the immovable knot in my throat. “It’s not what I was made for.”
“I care,” Helen whispered. I whipped my head toward her.
Helen met my gaze, her blue eyes heavy. “Emeline, I—” Helen turned quickly, her words dying as clipped footsteps sounded. Her gaze became vacant.
“Helen, you are needed elsewhere,” drawled a voice, “with the retired women.”
Very few memories remained from before the Academy. Somehow the sound of my birth father’s voice was a vivid one—carved into the very fiber of my being.
“Of course,” Helen stated before she walked away. “Good night, Emeline.”
Vincent watched her walk away before turning all his attention to me. “You disappear for two weeks, not a word of you, no sightings, and then you are here.”
“I was somewhat occupied.” I dug for what Collin had said in the Pod.
An ugly chuckle filled the air. “Collin can spread all the lies he wants about you furthering our cause, but you have done nothing but threaten the Greater Good from the moment you opened your eyes. When the truth comes out, you all shall meet your downfall.”
Unease filled me as Vincent watched Gregory dance with Nora once more, the song coming to an end.
“Collin is a member of the Illum. To insult me is to insult them.” The false bravado rang hollow.
“It’s not. He is young. In time he will see his mistake in choosing you, if the Illum do not eliminate him for his failings.
” Vincent turned toward me, his voice turning malicious and quiet.
“Never question my commitment to the Illum again. My loyalty is absolute. The only insult I have ever given them was you.”
His words slammed into my chest.
“What did I do?” I demanded, because hidden underneath it all was a young girl who wanted to know. I needed to know the reason for his hatred for me.
“Our ancestors built this city after the Last War. They helped create all of this. We had a flawless lineage and unwavering loyalty. Always beside the Illum, almost one of them. Then you ruined everything. My abilities were questioned because of you.”
“Is that why you put me in that blue dress?” I looked at him, wanting to see the answer.
Vincent smirked maliciously at me. “I didn’t send you that dress, but my unending gratitude to whoever put you in the color you earned at birth. The despair it brought your mother to see you in the color she fought so hard to keep you out of.”
“She what?” My breathing became difficult.
Vincent chuckled. I detested the very sound of it. The way it found every crack in the walls I had spent my life building, crumbling them in an instant. He smirked like he knew.
“If she hadn’t intervened, the moment I saw your eyes you’d have been in blue or worse.
You breathe today because she was too spineless.
My reward for my moment of humanity was to be stuck with the woman who gave me you.
They removed me from the program and blamed my genes, not hers.
I would never be assigned another Mate.” My ears rang at the declaration.
Helen had cared. Vincent’s vicious tone sliced through the ringing.
“Even if you pop out some Elite offspring, you will return to where you belong. But mark my words, when you fail, which you will, you will destroy everything Collin worked for. Either way”—his brown eyes found mine, and I hated that our gazes matched with the lens in—“I will enjoy watching you fall and the chaos that ensues.”
I fought off the stinging in my eyes. My heart stilled in my chest.
A warm hand rested on my lower back, and Vincent’s features changed. “Collin, nice to see you this evening. I was just telling your Mate how stunning she looks.”
Collin stepped into me until his front was almost fully pressed against my back.
I didn’t fight the comfort I found in it—I might have even leaned into it.
“Now, we both know that isn’t true,” Collin bit out with that quiet fury.
His hand found mine, pulling me away, before he paused, turning back to my birth father.
I collided into him. “Vincent, the Illum truly are getting impatient. You should have had answers by now. It was a task beneath your intelligence. That’s what you said.
” Collin’s sapphire eyes looked like chips of ice as he glared at Vincent.
His hands found my hips, steadying me. “If that were true, one would think you would have delivered by now. You more than anyone understand the ramifications of disappointing the Illum. Now, if you’ll excuse my Mate and me—we are expected for another dance. ”
A new song started, though I could hardly hear it over the broken beat of my heart as we reached the dance floor.
Collin stepped away from me and began to move, and the training kicked in. I tried to find the quiet dancing brought me, but shame clung to me, burrowing under my skin.
Collin held his hand out. I placed mine in his, and he spun me until I was dizzy. I released the breath I had forgotten I was holding. Collin caught me, steadying me.
I continued to move, being led by Collin, trying to ignore the one thing Vincent had said that had left me too exposed, that had altered everything.
I tried to stay one step ahead of the words that fed my fire. The crescendo swelled, and I prepared for the final two turns.
The song paused, shorter than a breath, before the finale. Vincent’s confession roared in my ears as Collin spun me once.
The despair it brought your mother—
Twice.
—to see you in the color she fought so hard to keep you out of.
I care.
My throat tightened, the air too thick. Collin disregarded what was proper and spun me again.
My shock loosened my thoughts’ grip.
He spun me a fourth time.
I saw his mouth tug up on the side before he spun me a fifth time. Finally, I landed in his arms.
He gripped my hip as his other hand ran down my spine, and in his magnetic pull, my mind quieted.
The music faded, but Collin didn’t release me. My eyes locked with his.
A new song began and the whispering of others filtered in. I felt their pelting stares and heard someone titter, “Oh, the Press is going to love this.”
The reminder of the roles we were playing felt like a slap in the face. Once again, I had lost myself around him. I forgot how his work was hurting people—destroying everything beautiful and different. My body couldn’t see what my Mate stood for.
Not looking at him, I stepped away, quickly curtsying, and beelined for an attendant holding a tray of delicate glasses. I grabbed a glass, downing it immediately before grabbing another. I drained a second when Collin stood beside me, holding his own glass.
“Too many of those will befuddle your mind,” he said under his breath.
“Maybe I want to be befuddled,” I shot back.
“I would advise against that, given the audience we have.”
My face grew warm, frustration coursing through me at the constant need to be aware of the Elite.
“What was that on the dance floor, the extra spins and the—the touching?” I sputtered, hating how my body had reacted to it instantly.
Collin took a sip from his glass as I ditched my second, grabbing a third. “I was attempting to distract you. To quiet your mind.” Collin stepped closer, putting himself between me and the Elite—who still watched us.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I muttered furiously. I brought the glass to my lips, but it was pulled away.