Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Ama
Walking into the ball on Finias' arm was a bold move.
It indicated an alliance between our houses, but it would still be unclear who was voting for whom.
His parents were likely under the impression that he had secured my vote, while the other houses that thought I was whoring myself out likely thought I had secured a vote from the House of Runes.
That placed a big target on my back—one that showed I was a force to be reckoned with. I wasn't here to be quiet, complacent, or stepped on.
No, I was here to make my father proud and win this vote for our house once again.
And I wasn't going to do that by making any shady, manipulative moves.
Staying true to myself was extremely important to me, and no matter what I felt for the men around me, I wouldn't let my values or goals slip from my mind.
I hadn’t realized just how many opinions I had on leadership until I’d stepped away from my father and had to navigate these things on my own.
It was both nerve wracking and freeing. I felt like I was growing through this experience, and it was a completely unintended side effect of something I hadn’t even wanted to do.
Now, though? Well, now I was glad I’d come—and for more reasons than one.
"You look absolutely ravishing. I realize I failed to tell you that earlier," Fin whispered discretely to me. All eyes were on us, and his comment brought a smile to my face, which in turn, caused several enemies to scowl.
They wanted me out, and they wanted me to feel shame at what I was. Who I was.
Something peculiar had shifted within me in my short time at the Summit. While I had an intense desire to prove hybrids weren't lesser, I had also realized that I had been shaming myself for being a hybrid my whole life by shunning the Succubus half of me.
I had treated myself exactly the way I hated others treating me, and it was time to put an end to that bullying too.
No longer would I despise or feel disgust over who I was.
While it was true I had some unresolved mommy issues, I couldn't change who my birth parents were.
They had found love, or so my father claimed, and then I had come along.
I was a result of love, and after meeting these princes, I had to admit I found the line that had been drawn between all the species when it came to relationships disgusting. Why were we not free to love who we wanted to? Why did purity of lines matter?
They didn't.
Lifting my chin, I let my lips pull back into a toothy grin that encompassed my face, “Why, thank you, Fin. You look rather dashing yourself.”
He tossed me a wink and said, “That’s my girl. Shine.”
Swoon. Fucking swoon. He’d just called me his girl.
My eyes landed on the sweet Hellhound I’d found myself intrigued by.
Damien looked dashing, and I genuinely grinned as he took my hand and kissed it politely.
There was a heat simmering behind the kiss on my skin, likely due to his Hellhound nature, and my mind immediately drifted to how that warmth would feel a little further down my body.
Focus, Ama. Devil, how many men do you need?
I missed what Damien said to me as I attempted to tame myself, and I winced as I asked, “I’m sorry, what was that? I got a little lost in thought for a moment.”
He chuckled good-naturedly, thankfully not taking it personally. "I said that my House is only a table away if you need something tonight. I happened to get here first and swapped some of the place cards around," he ended by wiggling his eyebrows at me mischievously.
Smacking his arm playfully, I gushed, "That's amazing. I can't believe you did that, but I totally love you for it. Who did they originally have me by?"
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened and closed repeatedly as Fin made a grunting noise beside me. Completely unaware of my own words, I asked with my brows pinched together, "What? What did I do? I know I didn't fart or anything."
I was positive I’d done something far more embarrassing, but I’d found that, when in doubt…fart jokes. Fart jokes always broke the tension. They were the skeleton key to relieving awkwardness.
As I’d hoped, my comment snapped them out of their shock.
Fin choked on a laugh, and Damien blushed deeply as he answered.
"You uhm, just said that you love me for it.
It's totally cool," he ended by holding up both hands in the universal symbol for "okay", with his pointer finger and thumb tips touching and his other fingers up.
He looked the total opposite of cool right now. More like frazzled, flustered, or downright flabbergasted. Apparently, I had a thing for “f” words right now, which made sense because it felt like all these boys were making me think of sinful things constantly—the biggest one being fucking.
Had I really said I loved him? I suppose I had.
The tips of my ears heated at the fact that I had said “love” so nonchalantly.
It was very much not a normal thing for me to say, and because my brain fucking hated me, I was now thinking of all of the princes in one room, making love to me at the same time.
Where the hell did these ideas even come from? Seriously.
Fanning my hand to get some air moving, I panted, "Do they have air conditioning in here, or am I the only hot one?"
Distract everyone from the awkward conversation. Yup. That was smart.
"I think you're definitely the only hot one here," a rumbling voice purred in my ear. A familiar voice, attached to a man I hadn’t gotten to speak to more than a few moments, but with whom I already found myself enamored. Unfortunately, Drayven had scared him off before I’d had a chance to speak with him much.
Nico.
Finias rolled his eyes and motioned like he was throwing up, and I giggled as I turned around and properly greeted the Incubus prince.
I had felt his powers reach out for me when we first met, and at the time it had confused me.
It hadn’t felt grimy or pushy, like other Incubus and Succubus energies I’d felt.
It was teasing and gentle. Exploratory, even. Like he wanted my power to come out and play with his.
Nico’s eyes were like pools of liquid gold that drew me in immediately.
This man was dangerous. Obviously, as a member of the House of Sin, it came with the territory that everyone was ridiculously good looking, but he was so much more than that.
He oozed confidence that wasn't cocky, just self-assured.
Like, when he knew what he wanted, he went for it, and nothing would get between him and what he desired.
And, at this moment, the predatory glint in his eyes told me that what he desired was me. In keeping with my new self-love motto, I allowed my Succubus energy to rise to the surface and reach out to him as I offered him my hand to shake and said, "Hello there, Nico. It's nice to see you again."
Disregarding my hand, he reached out and placed his hands lightly on my bare arms as he leaned into my ear once more and whispered, "The pleasure is all mine, gorgeous.
" As he spoke, I felt his energy twine together with mine, followed by a featherlight stroke where the slit in my dress exposed my leg.
Damnit. He was good. Nico was literally so good at this—the man oozed sex, and my knees felt wobbly and weak.
How was he touching me, though? His hands were still on my shoulders, so I knew it had to be his power. Unless it was his...No, do not go there, Ama.
"Save me a dance," he quietly demanded as he pulled back from me and walked away towards his house's table, which seemed to be in the opposite corner of the large ballroom.
I swear, the man could read a dictionary and I'd end up in a pool of my own drool. His voice was so fucking sexy.
The clearing of a throat drew my attention back to Damien, who supplied an answer to my previous question, "The House of Sin and the House of Fallen were originally the tables closest to you."
"Thank fucking devil you changed that," Finias groaned out, and I smiled coyly, liking the slightly territorial tone to his voice. It wasn't jealousy, which made it all the hotter. His hand reached out to snake around my waist and settled lightly on my hip.
Damien's gaze immediately latched onto the move, and I saw his face fall slightly. My heart panged at the idea of making him feel uncomfortable or unwanted when he had been so amazing and supportive. Wiggling out of Fin's grip, I looked up at him and asked, "Grab me a drink?"
In a very bold move that shocked even me, as we had so many eyes on us, Finias leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before walking toward the bar set up in the back corner of the room.
There was already quite a long line. I suppose booze was the quickest way to ease the nerves at gatherings like this.
Turning to face Damien, I held out a hand and smiled, "Want to dance? I think he's going to be stuck for a while."
His eyes flashed orange for a moment as he played with his cufflinks nervously before responding, “I’d be honored.
” My hand was still outstretched for him to take, but he was glancing at it nervously, so I retracted it, feeling confused.
We’d have to touch to dance. Why would he say yes to my offer if he was afraid to touch even my hand?
As my hand began to drop, his shot out to catch it, and he moved closer until we were separated by only a few inches. "I'm sorry. I've just never felt such an intense desire from my Hellhound before, and I worry about him taking over when I'm with you."
I admittedly didn't know much about how the Hellhounds’ shifts worked. Curious, I asked, "Is he a separate entity from you?"
He rolled his eyes exasperatedly as he answered, "Yes. My emotions are heightened by his, but we do often have distinctly different impulses on how to handle situations."
Intrigued by this, I inquired, "Like when? I don’t know much about Hellhounds…but I would like to know more about you, Damien.” Was that clear enough? I felt like I was being pretty damn clear.
His free hand rose up to tug on the tight collar of the dress shirt under his jacket as he winced. "Like right now. He wants to mark you, and I'm really fighting the urge to do that, as it would be completely indecent, and you are clearly with Finias."
Oh. Wow.
Genuine butterflies erupted in my stomach at his gentle, polite, yet honest answer. His answer didn't scare me away like I think he thought it might, based upon the wince and trepidation with which he had said it.
Tugging on his hand, I began to walk towards the dance floor in the middle of the room. "Let's go dance."
Relief flooded his features, and his shoulders relaxed as he let me guide him to the edge of the crowd that was dancing slowly to the same pianist and violinist duo from yesterday.
Turning to face him, I placed my arms loosely around his neck, and his hands came to softly touch my waist. He looked at me nervously, as if asking permission.
He was so sweet it made my toes curl in delight at the genuine soul that resided within him. He was a rare gem. We began to sway to the music, and I decided I wanted to keep learning more about this incredible man.
"So, was that your Hellhound rising to the surface when your eyes flashed orange?"
"Yes."
"You said he wanted to mark me." Damien's body tensed slightly. "Does that mean he approves of me?"
"You could say that." He smiled, amusement flashing in his gaze, as his hands tightened minutely against my waist.
I nibbled on my lower lip out of habit before I remembered I had lipstick on and stopped. I wanted to ask him if I could meet his Hellhound, but I couldn't figure out if that would be rude of me or not.
Eh, fuck it. I didn't get the feeling that he would be put off by my honest questions.
Peering up at him from under my lashes, I squeaked out, "Can I meet him? Not now, obviously, but eventually—"
He immediately stopped moving, and I groaned, apologizing, "I'm so sorry. I knew I shouldn't have asked that."
His large hand pushed my chin up to look at him instead of hanging my head in embarrassment. "I would love for you to meet him."
There was an intensity to his gaze I didn’t completely understand, and everything in me told me to tread lightly—that maybe this other part of Damien wasn’t as sweet as he was. The dual nature of this man seriously turned me on, and I found myself wanting to experience both of them.
Before I could answer, a clammy hand landed on my arm, bringing my attention to the man it belonged to. The king of the House of Sin.
Fucking yuck.
"I believe the song is over. May I have this next dance?" he asked politely, but the way his eyes roamed over my body was anything but polite.
Damien's chest rumbled as a growl worked its way out, and I immediately moved to soothe him with a hand on his chest, rubbing gently. "It's okay, Damien."
Glancing back at the king, I smiled—well, more like grimaced—and mustered all of the fake politeness I could gather. "Of course. I suppose we should chat about the vote anyway."
I felt sick to my stomach the second I put my hand in his, and dread washed through me, mental alarm bells sounding and alerting me that I should not be doing this.
But I had to. I had to do this for my house—it's what I was here for.
I'd give him one dance and figure out where he stood on the vote during that short time so I could be done with him.
"Oh, you na?ve little vixen, didn't you know it's rude to discuss business on the first dance? Did your father teach you no manners?"
Fuck this.