Chapter 16
Dance with me, Prudence.
Part of me was relieved that he hadn’t chosen something more sinister. Another part of me wondered why he wanted this.
Felix had told me it was tradition to dance with someone just as the fire was being lit.
Before the party, I had hoped Felix would spare me the embarrassment of having to find a random person to dance with, but after catching Anna shooting longing glances at him all night, I’d already decided to slip away before the dancing even began.
“Why?” I asked, staring at Daegal’s amused expression with disbelief.
“Because I won, and that is what I choose as my reward.” His voice was a calm breeze compared to the roaring storm that swirled in his dark eyes.
“I only want a word with you,” he sighed, his smile faltering slightly.
“Then speak,” I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest. I had no real reason to deny his request, but I still reveled in the satisfaction of annoying him.
His lips twitched, whether into a sneer or a smile, I couldn’t tell. “Please just come.”
“Fine,” I sighed.
We walked to the crowd of dancing bodies in silence. Cannon and his group apparently had talents beyond making bombs. They were playing a joyful, quick-paced tune, watching the people in front of them spin around and clap happily.
“The bonfire is about to be lit!” a woman behind me squealed in excitement. The music died down as Verena stepped forward, lit torch in hand.
“Tonight is the first semiannual party to celebrate the rebels born between January and June!”
If Lili had been here, she would’ve been celebrated. She deserved it, too. I’d always tried to make her day special, buying good food and a decent present. But she would’ve loved to be celebrated this way.
People around us clapped, so I mimicked them. Daegal applauded half-heartedly but stopped quickly. He was in a mood.
“I hope you’ll come together and celebrate them all with mead, great food from Angus, and music provided by Cannon and the Powders!”
I couldn’t help but giggle at their chosen name.
Verena held the torch high, igniting the huge bonfire. The flames started out small, kindling the thinner pieces of wood. But they caught quickly until the entire thing was ablaze.
The music started again, this time a slower, more intimate tune. People paired up, swaying slowly to Cannon’s surprisingly angelic singing.
I gulped and looked up at Daegal. He was already staring at me, his hand outstretched for me to take.
“Do me the honors,” he said, almost gentlemanly, as if I didn’t know exactly what he was playing at. He wanted to taunt me without anybody overhearing, surely. The hazel flecks of his eyes danced with fire as he held my gaze.
I took his hand tentatively, and he pulled me in. I stiffened as his hand found the small of my back. My hand shook slightly as I placed it on his shoulder.
Why am I so nervous?
He couldn’t hurt me, not with this many people around us. And from the look he gave me, he didn’t want to. His brows were crinkled slightly in thought.
We started swaying slowly from side to side, neither of us speaking for the first few minutes. My stomach felt tight. Like I wanted to take a full breath but couldn’t. The strings tied around my waist suddenly felt too constricting.
“The moment you told me I was just like the Defenders in the city,” he finally spoke, absentmindedly stroking the backside of my hand with his thumb. He must’ve been drunker than he looked. “I wanted to hurt you.”
At least he was honest. My body relaxed a little more with each sway, but his intense, unrelenting eye contact jumbled me.
“Then, at training today, I saw it. I felt it. The tyrant they taught me to be. The bully I try so hard to suppress, he resurfaced. It’s hard to extinguish a part of yourself when it’s been seared into you since your first breath.”
He spun me away from him before pulling me back in, his hand finding my waist once more.
“My father… he wasn’t the traditional parental figure. He didn’t believe in cozy bedtime stories or playing catch. Ever since I was little, all he ever did was train me to become as powerful a Defender as he was. That was my playtime. The tales of the bad darksomes were my bedtime stories.”
An eruption of fire ignited the night as someone threw more kindling into the pit. We stopped moving, both just watching the flames lick closer and closer to the moon in the sky.
The song faded, and he released his grip on me, his hand sliding from my waist at last.
In the crowd, I saw Felix looking around with a giggling Anna hanging onto his shoulder. He was probably trying to spot me among the people celebrating around him. I would have to find him later—he was probably worried about me.
“Let’s get a drink,” I suggested, not quite ready for this conversation to end. For some unknown, miraculous reason, Daegal seemed to be warming up to me. He’d told me deeply personal things about his past. That had to mean something.
We made our way to the mead-filled table, and he handed me a mug and grabbed one for himself as well.
“Cheers,” I said, holding it up for Daegal to tap. He considered me for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing slightly before he clinked our mugs together.
Perhaps a truce, I hoped. At least for the night. We drank deeply. I savored the sweet-tasting liquid as it warmed my insides.
“Until you arrived, nothing reminded me as much of home as you do. You, coming from the prison…” As the stream of words stopped, his face tightened painfully.
“I want to believe you, trust me. I just can’t.” His voice conveyed no emotions, just facts.
The mead turned to ice in my stomach. “Then why would you even tell me all of this?”
“Because I think you and I are similar in many ways,” he said. “I think that’s why we clash about more than just your little lie about escaping the prison.”
I huffed and took another sip to stop the retorts crawling up my throat. No matter what I said, he knew the truth. Somehow. I realized then that I couldn’t change his mind. At this point, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
Having a person like him, someone who doubted my every move, forced me to step cautiously. To not get reckless, and not forget that I was betraying the people who had gladly taken me in.
“That clears things right up,” I said sarcastically when I felt the bile rise in my throat along with my self-pitying thoughts. I turned to leave, but he closed a gentle hand around my wrist.
“You hate yourself more than you’ll ever hate me,” he said, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. “That’s why you lash out.”
“How would you know?” I sneered, wrenching free of his grip and stumbling over my feet as my head buzzed.
For a long moment, he just looked at me. His expression sobered. I’d never seen this sad look on his face before. It aged him, displaying only too well the horrors of his childhood that had made him become a man long before he was ready.
“Because that’s why I lash out, too.”
He stretched his hand for me to take. I hesitated, but his amused smile and raised eyebrows had me accepting the gesture. “Another dance, then? That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Yet, you accepted,” he observed.
A silence stretched between us. I suspected we both needed a moment to understand exactly what had just happened. We’d had an honest, half-civil conversation. We’d spent time together voluntarily.
I put my mug down on the table next to his and allowed him to lead me back to the edge of the swaying bodies.
“You look lovely tonight, Prue. I actually had fun with you,” he said with his signature smug smile playing on his lips. He ran a hand down my arm, his words sending an unfamiliar tingling to my numb limbs.
He bent down, and for a moment, I was sure he was about to kiss me. I placed my hand on his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, I wasn’t sure.
His lips brushed the shell of my ear as he whispered his parting words.
“Such a shame you’re a lovely, little liar.”