Chapter 46 #2
Even though I thought there was some element of truth to his 'wisdom', I wanted to tell him to go to the worst of the hells and fuck himself, but I bit my tongue. Gods, I held back every word and tried to bridle my rage.
Dreynthor sauntered away with that menacing smile still pasted on his lips.
Wolfe stepped closer and took my trembling hand into his. His reassuring touch and warmth drew my attention away from Dreynthor's retreating form and back to him.
With his gaze locked on mine, Wolfe pulled me closer. “Dance with me.”
I pressed my hand to his chest, and he slipped his free arm around my waist, chasing away the chill that Dreynthor left behind.
The orchestra started playing a new piece. It was slower and intimate. We began to dance.
Us, dancing. I could hardly believe it.
I'd dreamt of this several times from the minute I'd heard we were going to a ball. Now it was happening, and I couldn't even enjoy it.
Power radiated from Wolfe's body, his shadows peeking out at the edges of his form, responding to emotions he was fighting to control. “What did he say to you?” he rasped, his lips close to my ear.
I glanced up and gazed into his eyes. My lips parted, but I froze up and no words came when I saw the darkness clouding Wolfe's eyes.
I should tell him.
I should do it. It should be easy. Dreynthor had been the first person to be truly horrid to me since I'd been in the magical realm. That said a lot considering I didn't come here on my own accord.
But everything in Wolfe's eyes silenced me, made me think. He looked like he was about to kill. I'd seen that same look in his eyes before when the Ruskiel took me. Not when he killed her. When she actually took me.
I wouldn't be presumptuous. I wouldn't allow my fascination with this man to get the better of me and think I held any part of his heart. But deep down I knew if I told him what Dreynthor said, he'd be enraged.
I didn't know everything that was going on in the background, but I felt that sort of reaction over a lowly half-mage like me would not go down well for him.
“It's okay.” Finally, I found my voice. Though the words trembled as they fell from my lips, I managed to speak. “It's nothing.”
His jaw clenched, and his grip on my waist tightened.
“Don't.” The word came out sharp and final.
His eyes searched my face, a storm building within them.
“Elariya, you're trembling, and I can see the pain in your eyes.
That bastard said something to hurt you, and you're going to tell me what it was.”
“It's okay, Wolfe. Let's just dance.”
He cupped my face and moved closer, surprising me. The gesture was surely too forward in front of all these people. Especially his uncle.
His thumb traced gently across my jaw, a stark contrast to the firmness in his expression.
“Look at me.” His voice was softer now but no less intense. “Whatever he said to you, it wasn't nothing. I've been watching you both for the past ten minutes, and you look like you've seen a ghost. Now, tell me what he said.”
The firmness in his gaze intensified, and I knew I had to give him something.
“He just said...” I thought of a tamer version of the truth. “He said I shouldn't get too comfortable with you. And... I wouldn't be important enough to you.” I did well but felt I let Dreynthor off too easily with a mercy he didn't deserve.
Wolfe seemed to know. He looked at me, and it was like he saw straight through my watered-down answer. Then he glanced to his left, and his eyes found Dreynthor's in the royal circle on the balcony.
Wolfe stared him down for a few moments, and Dreynthor did the same. When Wolfe forced his gaze back to me, my throat went dry the moment I saw that his eyes were completely black, covered in smoke and midnight.
I felt that thing again. That thing that didn't quite fit in with his magical aura. It was darker, hellish even.
The tension in his features was so potent it rippled off him in waves. The only thing I could think to do to calm him down was dance. I swayed more to the music, guiding him to move with me.
He did. It took a moment before the darkness cleared from his eyes and the silvery-blue I loved returned.
“Elariya.”
“Yes.”
“You are important to me,” Wolfe murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
“I know you need me for—”
“You. Just you.” His heartfelt words whispered over my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
My heart stumbled, then began racing so fast I thought it might burst.
You. Just you.
The words echoed through every fiber of my being, knocking the air from my lungs and warming my soul. I felt raw and exposed, like he'd just reached inside my chest and cradled my heart in his hands. No one had ever made me feel like I mattered just for existing.
Wolfe pulled me closer into his embrace, and we moved together as one. Magic hummed between us, alive where we touched. The ballroom became a blur of golden light around us. Soon, I found myself lost in the sanctuary of whatever this beautiful, terrifying thing was becoming between us.
We danced until the end of the song. I was so lost in him I hadn't realized the music had stopped until a wiry-looking male approached us. He seemed wary of Wolfe as he interrupted.
“Your Highness, your uncle has requested your presence in the royal circle,” he said with a slight dip of his head.
Wolfe sighed, his frustration returning. “I'll be there in a minute.”
The male bowed again and backed away. Wolfe looked at me, then released me.
“I'll be back as soon as I can.” He reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Okay. I'll... be here,” I replied, nervously fumbling with one of the diamantes on my dress.
A faint grin tipped his lips, then he turned and left. I watched him walk through the crowd as people parted and bowed to allow him passage.
Arielle appeared at my side seconds later, playfully bumping against my shoulder. “That was nice.” She nodded toward Wolfe and smiled wistfully.
“It was.” I tried not to smile too widely.
“I'm sorry you had to dance with Dreynthor, though.” She seethed, wrinkling her nose. “I hope he didn't say anything too terrible. You looked really upset. If Wolfe hadn't gone to rescue you, I would have.”
“Dreynthor was awful. But I'm okay.” I didn't tell her the truth, either, because I didn't want to cause trouble.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I'm fine.” I waved a dismissive hand in the air, brushing the angst from my mind.
“He is an absolute prick with a stick shoved up his ass. Just forget him.”
I chuckled at her colorful insult. It amazed me how quickly she could shift from sweet and ladylike to vicious fishwife in the span of seconds.
“Consider him forgotten.” I flicked my wrist again and masked my inner turmoil with a smile. “What about you? Is your plan all set for Bastian?”
“Yes.” Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced up at the royal circle to where Bastian stood with Wolfe, Alaric, and Garrick.
Bastian was talking to Alaric but must have either felt her gaze on him or known she was staring.
He glanced back at her and winked. Arielle turned to me and squealed. “I have him right where I want him.”
I raised my brows and giggled. “I can see that. How exactly are you going to carry out this plan of yours?” She hadn't shared the specific details with me.
“They're waiting for the King of Thalyrius to arrive. Once he gets here and they do their whole meet-and-greet-and-listen-to-boring-shit thing, Bastian will come back down here. That's when I'll kiss him.”
I felt excited for her. “Sounds like a plan. I'll just roam by the cakes and pretend to be shocked when you do it.”
We both laughed.
“I'm so glad you're here.” Arielle pressed a hand to her heart.
“Me too.” I meant that despite my unsavory encounter with Dreynthor.
She began telling me about the rest of her plan if the first part was a success. She was planning to escape the celebration early with Bastian and spend the rest of the night in the outer lands, where no one could interrupt them.
She'd been painting a picture of moonlit meadows and hidden groves when the ceremonial horns of the royal heralds interrupted us. The moment everyone froze and seemed to stand a little taller, I realized the King of Thalyrius had arrived.
I followed the crowd's curious gazes up to the royal circle, where the heralds stepped aside to allow a giant Fae male through. He had a long beard, warrior plaits in his waist-long platinum hair, and a heavy pelt coat draped with bear hide, the fur still coarse and dusted with frost.
He reminded me of one of the northern men from the snow-covered lands in the mortal realm.
“Announcing the arrival of His Royal Highness, King Paeulyn of Thalyrius,” the tallest herald announced.
Everyone, including Wolfe, gave the king a deep bow. I followed suit, fascinated by the display of respect.
People in the mortal lands were just as respectful when King Varis was amongst them, but this felt even more significant because the King of Thalyrius wasn't their king. He was a guest, yet they showed him the same reverence.
He stepped forward and lifted his hands, signaling for us to rise.
Once I straightened, my gaze landed on a tall, impossibly beautiful Fae woman behind him. She had the same platinum-blonde hair as Arielle but jade-green eyes that were so vibrant they seemed to shimmer like precious stones.
An ice-blue dress hugged her slender frame, dancing around her long legs as she made her entrance.
Even from across the ballroom, cool elegance radiated from her and she moved with the willowy grace of winter as if the season answered to her call.
Her beauty was the kind of ethereal and flawless perfection that belonged in dreams.
“Oh Gods, not her,” Arielle muttered under her breath. “What is she doing here?”
I was about to ask who she was when the herald said, “Announcing the Royal Princess Seraphina of Thalyrius.”
How silly of me to wonder. Of course, she was a princess. She had the regal elegance and poise of a highborn lady. Daughter of a king.
The guests gave her a respectful bow but not as lengthy as the king's.
Princess Seraphina followed her father over to Dreynthor and Wolfe.
Envy ripped through me when Wolfe took the princess' hand and kissed her knuckles. I caught her smile and saw the desire-filled way her eyes roamed over him. There was an unmistaken spark of attraction I couldn't ignore.
I couldn't blame her if she wanted him. But he was... mine.
Gods, it was official. I'd gone crazy. I must have lost my mind like the lunatics on a full moon if that's what I was thinking—that Wolfe Nightblade was mine. Especially when nothing had made him mine.
I leaned closer to Arielle when Princess Perfect started talking to Wolfe and he gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“I'm guessing you don't like her,” I whispered.
“I don't know anyone who does.” Arielle kept her voice low. “She's a frigid bitch who does the devil's bidding.”
“Really?” I definitely didn't expect that answer. The princess seemed more like the type of person who'd be annoyingly nice.
“Yes,” she hissed. “I've had the misfortune of getting on her bad side more than my fair share of times. I wish the guys had warned me she was coming.”
Dreynthor stepped forward, arms raised to regain everyone's attention.
“My loyal subjects,” he began. “I'm truly honored to have you all here tonight, celebrating my name day.”
He paused to look around, his gaze briefly settling on me before he straightened and motioned toward the king and the princess.
“I am especially honored to have my dear friend King Paeulyn and his beautiful daughter with us.”
Seraphina threw him a graceful smile. The sight twisted my insides with envy I couldn't control. She might be the frigid bitch Arielle described, but she was someone Dreynthor approved of. He'd never think of her as low class or something to fuck and toss to the side.
“Tonight holds great value to me,” Dreynthor continued in an upbeat tone. “It pleases me from the bottom of my heart to announce to you this night the upcoming marriage of my beloved nephew, Wolfe Nightblade and Princess Seraphina Ashvalen.”
My stomach hollowed out then plunged through the floor.
Blessed Mother, did he truly say what I think he said?
Confirmation came quickly when applause thundered around me from the crowd. My knees threatened to buckle as the sound filled my ears like a war horn. The room slanted around me, the golden lights blurring into streaks of faces and color.
Wolfe was getting married.
Wolfe was getting married.
My chest constricted, each breath becoming a struggle as the reality crashed over me.
I looked at him standing there on the balcony. His gaze was fixed on Dreynthor, cold and haunting, filled with fury and surprisingly what appeared to be the same shock I felt.
Then he looked at me, his eyes wide and stricken.
The announcement appeared to have caught him completely off guard. Blindsided him even. But I didn't think the news of marriage was a complete surprise.
I might not have known Dreynthor very well, or at all, but I doubted he could get away with springing this kind of surprise on Wolfe without him having some prior knowledge.
So... Wolfe must have known. He knew all along he was getting married.
You. Just you. Those words, only uttered moments ago, floated into my mind. They'd been a treasure to me. But now they felt like the cruelest lie ever spoken.