Chapter 10 #3
It’s cotton-soft, but also strong, reassuring, and when he pulls me behind him, putting himself between me and Amrath, I’m tempted to bury my face in one of his shadowy wings.
Either my brain is permanently frazzled in Tristan’s presence, or I swear they have a smell of their own. Deep, smoky like their color.
Amrath puts his hands up. “Go on! Don’t let me stop you. It’s not like my requests ever mattered.”
He’s a drama king if I ever saw one and walks off with a sway to his shoulders.
Tristan turns to me with a groan. “I’m sorry you had to meet him. Just disregard whatever he told you. Our room is set up, Lady is safely tucked in. Shall we dance? You can leave your coat with the bartender.” His fingers slide over my cheeks, and he kisses me softly before I get to answer.
So many questions are floating in my head, but then our lips meet, and they’re all gone, leaving behind only longing and the growing certainty that maybe I do deserve to be here?
I’ve been a good person all my life—not perfect, but trying to do my best—and maybe this is fate rewarding me with everything I ever dreamed of, and even things I didn’t dare to?
It might be reckless, but is it such a sin that I want to lean into his touch?
“Why does he hate you so much?”
I can sense the eyes on us, but there’s music, the elves talk and go about their business, so I’m not even that self-conscious.
“Very simple. He wished for more than I was willing to offer. Sometimes a tryst is just that.” He catches my attention with his golden gaze as he gently spins us to an empty space. “While at other times, the curiosity runs deeper, and the connection might blossom under the moonlight.”
The way he says this, looking straight at me, has all my nerve endings dancing. This could be a lie—Tristan wouldn’t be the first man to overpromise his affection, only to lose interest in the person he was courting, but he does sound sincere.
Am I gullible?
Maybe?
But when he pulls me into the green light of the chandelier, one hand on my waist, the other still warming my cheek, I find myself exactly where I want to be.
The center of his attention.
Living out a fantastical scene straight from books where romance is real.
“How can you tell the difference so fast?”
He kisses me again, this time licking under my top lip.
I’m glad my jeans aren’t tight because that simple gesture has my cock twitching.
“It’s the sweetness inside you,” he whispers with a grin.
The music changes and turns into something slower, with a brooding undertone of the violin joining the other instruments.
Tristan chuckles. “Ah, this one is for us. It’s about Lordess Camani and her Dark Companion. ”
My knees feel so weak when he spins me gently, the eerie glow transforming the color of his hair, and as the long locks float around his face, they’re reminiscent of seaweed dancing in clear water.
I’m breathless, because with everyone assuming I’m to be his Dark Companion, able to lend him my shadow when he needs it, I find myself wishing for that too, despite not truly understanding what it means.
“Were they lovers?” I rasp as two women twirl next to us, their lips locked in a kiss that makes me long for more touch, more closeness with the man in my arms.
He guides me around the dancefloor so effortlessly, swaying us from side to side as if we’re one ship on a stormy ocean.
“Oh yes. With a love story so tumultuous and tender they inspired several books, and poems, and songs. Maybe tonight, I’ll just let myself believe that could be us,” he whispers, and I gasp for air.
My chest is pressed against his. His thigh aligns with mine, and I slide my hands to his shoulders, locking them on his nape.
This can’t be real.
Guys don’t talk like that.
Nobody has ever danced with me like this.
I’m so breathless.
“Why just believe it?” I rasp, getting to my toes to make sure only he can hear me. “You can have it.” I just don’t know how.
His hand tightens on my waist as he inhales deeply. His nose nudges my cheek as he turns his head. “Careful, Nate. You don’t know what kind of beast you’re coaxing out.”
But I still want to. His scent makes me long for his body on top of mine again. I slide my finger over the top of his wing, right off the shoulder, and it shivers under my touch.
This world might be everything I dreamed of, but I don’t want a man who had to be forced into accepting me as his. I want… this.
The front door swings open so fast it hits the wall as someone bursts in.
My head turns in that direction automatically, and Tristan pulls me close so abruptly he lifts me off the floor.
His embrace feels like the warmest, softest of armors, and as his wings envelop us too, I allow myself to set my cheek on his broad chest.
“A falling star!” The elf yells at the top of his lungs. “And it’s a big one!”
Guests rise to their feet, leaving their food and the dancefloor, to rush for the door. Even the musician puts away her instrument, and the beautiful melody that set mine and Tristan’s bodies in motion cuts off suddenly, leaving me adrift.