CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE #2
The bottom half was wave after wave of black silk, the delicate pleats arranged so that every glint of light sparked off the silk like dancing fire.
The ocean of fabric was anchored at the hips, leaving the front open to a tiny black skirt and scandalous amount of leg.
A pair of thigh-high black boots sat innocently on the floor.
The bodice was fiery red with a deep, rectangular slit that trailed from bust to navel. Each figure-hugging cup was the base of a delicate flame that peaked above the shoulders. “Oh,” I breathed, staring at it like a child in a market made of candies and toys. I darted for it.
All at once I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough.
I flung them to the floor, across the pillows, and over the table until I stood in my underwear.
I reached for the dress but noticed another shred of lacier fabric laying on top of it.
A wicked grin spread over my face as I hooked my finger around the barely there panties.
I ditched the ones I was wearing and slid them on, turning toward the mirror to admire the way they curved perfectly with my ass.
I plucked the dress off the bed and flipped it over to find the way in.
Another deep slit mirrored the front. In pure gargoyle fashion, it started lower and left the shoulder blades pointedly bare.
A few invisible clasps trailed down the skirt.
I slipped the boots on and wiggled my way in, the rigid sides of the bust hugging my torso like a glove.
I turned to the mirror and giggled like a schoolgirl.
It clung to me in all the right places, dipping at the waist and flaring at the hips to create a ballgown silhouette.
The flames angled from my breasts to my shoulders and perfectly framed my collarbones and slender neck.
Enough of my thighs were covered by either the boots or the skirt to avoid being indecent. I looked fabulous.
Until my gaze traveled to my head. “Oh, gods.” I looked like a drowned rat had crawled its way into the most magnificent dress on the planet.
The door popped open and I turned to find Laney shoving her own gown through the door, her arms full of brushes and powders. “Oh good, you got into it,” she said as she kicked the door shut behind her. She dumped her armload onto the table that still sported half my clothes. “Damn. You look good.”
My smile was brilliant. “We look good.”
Her dress looked like it had fallen straight from the heavens, all silvery starbursts against a swathe of midnight black. Her white-blond hair fell around her bare shoulders in waves that made me disgustingly envious, her already pretty face dolled up with powder and liner and gloss.
“But unlike you, I only look good to here.” I flung my flat palm up to my neck. “I hope you’re here to help with that.”
Laney flashed me a smirk. “Given you normally look like a beggar, yes, that is why I’m here.”
I winced. “So accurate, I can’t even be offended.”
Her smile grew. “Sit.”
The dress was surprisingly pliant as I plopped into a chair, the rigid material ending just above the hinge of my hips. “Why does this dress feel like it was literally made for me?” My fingers trailed over the soft material.
“Because it was, silly. Griffon knew you didn’t have anything to wear to my party. Brynn already had your measurements, so she was able to make it pretty quickly. I’d say she did a damned fine job of bringing his vision to life.”
His vision. He’d done this. For me. A smile began to stretch across my face.
“Stop that,” Laney chided. She grabbed my cheeks and smooshed them back into a pout.
I burst out laughing and sprayed her with spit, but her cackle joined mine and we laughed until my cheeks hurt. The misery and dread and constant patter of blood wearing a hole through my sanity dried up. I was happy—at least for a moment.
Laney finished my face and her deft fingers moved on to my hair, moving so quickly I couldn’t fathom what the final product would look like. She took a step back when she finished. “Perfect.”
I turned to the mirror. “Whoa.” The blush on my cheeks and kohl at my eyes sharpened my soft features, the red dabbed onto my lips as fierce as the dress. My unruly hair was pinned in elegant twists and twirls that framed my face while keeping the swathe of skin at my chest and neck exposed.
I whipped to Laney, my eyes huge. “What the hell did you do to me? I look…I look normal. Like a normal woman who belongs in polite society.”
Laney came to stand beside me. “Oh, honey. You look anything but normal.” She winked and started for the door. “I’ve got a party to attend!” She threw the door open and turned back, a wicked glint in her eyes. “And you have a visitor. You two better not be late.”
My heart damn near flamed out in my chest when Griffon stepped through the door.
In a pair of sleek black pants and midnight button-down shirt that clung to his hard body, he was all darkness to the radiance of the dress I wore.
My attention snagged on his silky black vest, the red flames embroidered on its lapels doing funny things to my stomach.
I tracked the flames to the column of his throat and up to his face. My squirming stomach did a backflip.
He devoured me from across the room.
I spun a slow circle, swinging my head around halfway so I never had to take my eyes off him. “Like?” My voice was entirely too coy.
“Oh, that’s a fucking understatement.” His voice rumbled through my scantily clad chest.
“This dress is…” I shook my head, flailing for any word that could do it justice.
“Exquisite. On you.”
I grinned like a damned fool.
He held out his arm. “We should go, while I have the willpower to leave you in the dress.”
“Willpower is boring,” I teased as I glided toward him. “Feral is far, far more interesting.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled.
“Always said I would be.” I closed my hand around his waiting bicep, my fingers digging into his muscle.
“Oh, wait! I forgot.” I darted back to the nightstand beside my bed and opened the top drawer.
I plucked his delicate silver bracelet from its depths and slipped it over my hand.
The cold metal wasn’t the only thing that sent a shiver down my bare spine.
I turned back to him, and his eyes dropped to my wrist. The heat in his gaze shifted to something else entirely. Something deeper. Possessive, with just a hint of that wild darkness lurking in it.
“Now I’m ready.” My voice trembled as much as my fingers. I returned to his side and reached for his arm.
He caught my hand. The rough pad of his thumb ran over the phoenix charm, brushing my wrist with each stroke. He brought the back of my hand to his soft lips and pressed a kiss to my flushed skin. His gaze raked over me one last time before he led me from the room.
I couldn’t help my traitorous eyes from constantly shifting to him on our way to the ballroom. I was inordinately pleased when I found that his kept doing the same.
We stopped before the towering archway, the golden handles free of the dust that had suffocated them.
Griffon turned to me. “You’ve been so miserable with Lakuro. I wanted you to have a night in the light, away from all the darkness. A night for you to remember what your power is. Your power is light. You are light, Lydia.”
My heart launched a full-on rebellion in my chest. “What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“I thought it had probably been a while since you were properly celebrated.” There wasn’t a shred of guilt in the traitor’s smile. “Happy Birthday, my Little Ember.” He pushed the doors wide.