Chapter 21 Shade
Shade
Ginger’s startled brown eyes were wider than I had ever seen them. “What the—” she choked on her words. Outrage took over her expression. “It’s you!”
I grinned. Me, indeed.
I held out my hand, palm up. An invitation.
A lifeline.
She glared at it for a moment. Briefly, I thought she might deny me. But she came to her senses.
She placed her palm into mine.
Her skin was warm and smooth, so delicate it felt as though my grasp would be enough to tear through her skin.
Agony, bright and sharp, seared through my skull.
“Woah, are you okay? You look a little pale.” She drifted closer, hesitantly placing her free hand on my shoulder. Her palm was lighter than a moth’s wing, hardly enough to call contact.
I shoved at the darkness threatening to sweep in and swallow me whole. I refused to let it rob me of the sight of my wife in my arms.
I cleared my throat as I slipped my free hand onto the curve of her waist. I didn’t let it stray—I held it stiff as stone, but I could still feel the way her soft flesh dipped. My fingertips ached to dig in.
To claim.
“Are you going to speak?” she asked.
At the sound of her voice, the pain in my head eased, only just. “Of course I will speak. What would you like me to say?” I tugged her into a sideways step. She followed willingly.
So obedient, my wife.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything.”
I scoffed to hide the way I internally floundered. My broken mind refused to supply me with words. “I’d rather save my breath than engage in pointless chatter.”
“Sounds about right,” she mumbled. Her eyes darted around the room even though I was right in front of her. Irritation curdled in my stomach.
“Looking for someone, wife?”
Her eyes returned to my face. “Like that’s any of your business. And I’m not your wife. How many times do I need to say it?”
I pulled her closer to my chest. “You are, whether you accept it now or not.”
“In your dreams.”
“In your dreams, perhaps,” The quip slipped out before I could stop it.
Her face flushed, from her neck all the way to her hairline. Her freckles stood out in stark contrast. “Wh—what are you talking about?” she asked. Her step faltered, my firm grip on her waist the only thing keeping her upright.
She quickly regained her footing.
Her eyes wandered again, more frantic this time.
My teeth snapped together. She was looking for that damned wolf. Possessive greed sunk clawed fingers into my brain.
“Mine,” I growled under my breath.
“Kick rocks,” she retorted, flashing a sarcastic grin in my direction before returning to her search.
“Are you looking for a certain… white-haired wolf shifter?”
Her mouth dropped open for a moment. I hooked my foot behind her legs and knocked her off balance, catching her by surprise as I swept her into a grand dip. Her eyes were saucers when I pulled her upright.
I was thoroughly amused.
She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. “What did you do to him?” she accused.
I simply smirked.
A lovely, angry flush spread across her cheeks.
When the music changed, she tore herself from my grasp, darting to the far end of the ballroom.
As if she could escape me.
Never.
I slunk to the edge of the room, keeping to the shadows as Tommins announced the first eliminations and the continuation of the stupid dance trial.
Ginger spoke frantically to her friends as she swayed back and forth in a lazy imitation of dancing.
But still, she looked elegant. Of course.
At the next turn of the music, she launched herself into the arms of the nearest woman while her eyes scanned the dance floor. Looking for me.
Murder simmered in my bones, the urge to destroy every folk who touched her nearly impossible to contain. But at least, if they could touch her skin, her mind was still with me. It was a small consolation.
I twirled a dark-haired witch, only touching her gloved hand as much as absolutely necessary.
Ginger could play her games for now. I would have her soon.
The trial continued.
Folk were eliminated.
I crept closer and closer to my wife.
As the crowd thinned, I corralled Ginger in the corner. She had no choice but to pair with me.
“No!” she groaned, tossing her head back dramatically. “Why won’t you just leave me alone! I’m not interested, clearly.”
“Aren’t you? Why do you keep looking for me, then?”
She didn’t bother denying it. “So I can avoid you!”
“Tell yourself what you must, wife.”
“Stop calling me that!”
I pulled her into my grasp. She resisted for only a moment before she fell into step beside me. She held herself stiffly.
“Why do you run from me, little faun? Are you afraid?” I asked.
“Because I don’t like you!” she hissed, exasperated.
“You don’t know me.”
“And I never will.”
I grinned. “Is that a challenge?”
“It’s a promise.”
My fingers drifted from her palm to whisper over her wrist. “If you hate me so much, why is your pulse racing?”
She snatched her hand from my grasp, creating space between us. Again, she didn’t deny her reaction. “From—from the dancing, of course.”
I nodded, amused. I would let her keep her small secrets. For now. She would soon learn they were useless around me.
I would unravel every detail of her life.
“Final round!” the mayor called out as the music changed once again.
Ginger bolted.
“See you soon,” I called after her.
She glared over her shoulder and tried to lose me, ducking around larger folk, but I could not be deterred.
I followed.
As the music changed, I slipped behind the faun, grasping her around the waist and lifting her into a grand spin.
She squealed rather dramatically. “Ahh! Put me down!” she screeched.
I placed her onto her hoofed feet, but I didn’t release her. I simply tugged her into me.
“Damn you!” She pounded her soft fists against my chest.
“I told you I would see you soon, did I not?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes, refusing to meet my gaze. “I don’t even know your name.”
“No, you don’t,” I agreed.
“Are you going to tell me what it is?” she asked. Her eyes drifted somewhere over my shoulder. It was infuriating.
“In due time.”
As soon as I figured out what it was, myself.