Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
A tlas loosened the collar of his shirt, undoing the top two buttons.
Beads of sweat slid down his spine, clinging to the fine fabric of his shirt, dampening it.
The ballroom was stifling. The heat from the throng of dancing bodies had forced the palace staff to throw open the windows and doors, allowing the brisk night air to circulate through the crushing room.
No one else seemed to notice the excessive heat, they were too busy grinding against one another to the blaring music pulsating through the space.
The obsidian dance floor was packed with fae, vampires, witches, humans, and the like, all moving to the discordant beat of pumping music that set Atlas’s teeth on edge.
Rolling the cuffs of his sleeves, he propped his forearms on the gilded balcony overlooking the ballroom.
It reminded him of the Grand Cru—red and blue lights swirled overhead, the beams crashing into one another, drowning the space in mesmerizing hues of purple.
A band was positioned in the corner upon a structured stage where lights slanted across them, illuminating the vibrant paint smeared across their bodies and instruments.
With every new song, paint rained down on them from above, and they played through the colorful mess, their smiles electric as slashes of pigment stained the air like a rainbow waterfall.
There were cocktails filled with shimmery blue liquid topped with red cherries and pitchers overflowing with frothy ale.
The females were covered in swirls of iridescent glitter, the males all coated in a light sheen of sweat.
His mother would be so disappointed.
Fucking skies, he was disappointed.
This was it.
This was where he was supposed to find a wife, and not just the beginnings of a sham courtship. He was expected to propose.
Atlas roughed a hand over his face, groaning at his prospects.
Perhaps he should’ve made more of an effort when it came to throwing this damn ball.
Then at least he could’ve ensured it wasn’t like a loud, raging parlor in Starysa but an actual event where he could hear those around him talking.
But no, he’d tossed that responsibility aside and was now forced to suffer through finding a bride in an atmosphere reminiscent of his current reputation.
Loud.
Chaotic.
Overly sexual.
Resigned to the fate his father chose for him, Atlas attempted to slacken his jaw, but it was locked tight.
Most of the females in attendance who were available were pretty, beautiful even, but none of them were Ever.
Their smiles all looked the same—practiced and feigned.
All of them were well aware of his magic, they’d heard the rumors, likely fell victim to their own fantasies, and the gleam in their eyes made his skin crawl with unease.
Atlas wanted to be more than someone’s bragging rights.
He didn’t want to be seen as a trophy or prize, he didn’t want to fucking settle .
But his options were to be tossed into a sea of flesh-eating females and be eaten alive, or be sent to Rizenrok Forge, where the only one waiting to greet him would be death.
Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, rubbing away the ache that had started to form.
He shoved off the railing and turned around, only to find Caedian standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, effectively blocking the path to the staircase that would lead to the ballroom below.
His Captain of the Guard stood there, one ankle cocked over the other, a fierce line of disapproval set between his brows. In the wild flash of lights, Caedian’s white hair reflected an array of colors, but his gray eyes darkened to slate in the play of shadows bouncing between them.
Shackled to his own misery, Atlas nodded toward the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
Caedian didn’t budge. “You’re making a mistake.”
No shit.
Of that, Atlas was well aware. He flung his arms out to the side, letting his shoulders rise and fall. “What would you have me do?”
Caedian rolled his wrist, flipping his hand palm up in a mock gesture of contemplation. “You could start by telling her the truth.”
“I already did,” Atlas snapped, clenching his teeth so the ache in the center of his forehead spread to his temples and down to the back of his neck.
“Oh, really?” Caedian countered, one stark white brow arching. “When?”
“The overlook.” Atlas shifted on his feet, anxiety gnawing at him, and his palms dampened. “I told her she was annoying and that I’ve wanted her since the first day I laid eyes on her.”
“Wow,” Caedian drawled, inspecting the hilt of the sword fastened to his waist. “That’s quite the profession of love.”
Atlas bit back a snarl. “Everinne is hardly the type to swoon over pretty words and bouquets of flowers.”
“I don’t know.” Caedian’s gaze flicked to him. “She fell hard enough when that lord of stars was kissing her wrist and showering her with compliments.”
Damn it.
Lord Tovian had practically swept her off her feet.
She’d blushed and fluttered her lashes, enjoying every minute of his attention, and what had Atlas done in return?
First, he’d scorned her for her behavior out of pure jealousy, then used his magic on her when she sucked his cock.
Hardly chivalrous and not at all worthy of winning her heart.
Even now, just imagining those lips of hers on his shaft sent a thrum of desire coursing through him.
His blood heated, and he raked both of his hands through his disheveled hair, hating himself for giving in to her so quickly.
But it was more than just physical attraction on his behalf, it was a bone-deep longing, the kind that made him never want to be separated from her. All those days, all those years he’d spent avoiding her, had been nothing short of torture.
And that fucking mating bond…the one that sizzled and frayed whenever she was near, waiting to snap into place, wound itself into a knot inside of his chest, threatening to cleave his heart in half.
Atlas stalked toward the doorway, but Caedian held up one hand, halting him.
“I know you, Atlas. I’ve known you longer than you’ve known yourself.
I’ve seen the way you look at her, taken note of that jealous streak that morphs into cold-blooded possession.
I’ve seen such a shift before, almost intangible to the naked eye, yet clear if you recognize the signs.
” Caedian tilted his head, his gaze narrowing.
“It’s more than love, isn’t it? She’s your mate. ”
Atlas could only stare at him.
His mind emptied of all rational thought because someone else knew, someone else realized what was happening to him.
Thank fuck it was Caedian and not Veros.
“Choose her.” Caedian’s voice was quiet, yet the words rang in Atlas’s head, echoing like warning bells.
“What?”
“Choose Everinne to be your wife.”
He shook his head. “I can’t, Veros will kill me.”
Caedian smirked, unsheathing half of his sword so the blinding lights of the ballroom slashed across the blade in an array of colors. “He can try. Veros might be the Lord of Time, but you’re the Prince of Prava, and I know where the line is drawn between friendship and duty.”
Atlas tucked his hands behind his back and paced the small balcony, the click of his boots silent over the roar of music and voices reverberating through the ballroom.
He ran his teeth along his bottom lip, a spear of apprehension piercing his gut.
If he did this, if he chose Everinne, then there was a very real chance he would lose his best friend.
Veros had made it perfectly clear he wanted Atlas to keep his hands to himself, to neither toy with her affections nor her heart.
But Veros didn’t know his sister occupied Atlas’s every waking thought, that she haunted his dreams, that when Everinne was around, Atlas couldn’t even fucking breathe.
She’d stolen his air. His heart. His soul.
And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Except…marry her.
Another thought rushed to the forefront of his mind, and in one second, his blood turned to ice. He stilled, glancing over at Caedian, who was still lounging against the door.
“Caed…” Atlas blew out a harsh breath. “She could refuse me.”
He shrugged, as if such a thing was impossible. “Then you kiss her. She’ll know with absolute certainty then.”
Atlas dropped his head back, rolling it from side to side until his neck cracked.
A kiss would be damning. Everinne would feel it, she would be able to sense the bond, she would know the moment it snapped into place.
But that didn’t mean she had to accept it.
What if she didn’t want him? She could deny him, deny their bond, and the suffering would be inescapable.
For the rest of his days, whether it be centuries or an eternity, he would be tied to her.
Her heartbeat would pulse through his veins.
Anytime she drew breath, his lungs would fill.
He would share her dreams, her thoughts, her emotions. All of it. All of her. Forever.
And for him, there would never be another.
Caedian shoved off the door frame, adjusting slightly to allow Atlas the opportunity to pass.
“Listen, if you don’t do this, if you choose someone else because you think you’re unworthy of her, and because you’re worried it might ruin your friendship with Veros, the regret will eat away at you like a disease.
” He paused, then added, “I’d rather die than be separated from my mate for an eternity. ”
Death would be welcomed, a long-awaited reprieve.
“I’m going to ask her.” The words fell from Atlas’s mouth before he could stop them, before he could take them back.
His mother’s ring burned a hole in his pocket, and now he could only picture the sparkling teal sapphire on Everinne’s finger.
“The fuck are you waiting for?” Caedian barked, jerking his head toward the swarming ballroom. “Go find her.”