Chapter Twenty Eight
The gown Talia insisted on clung too tight at the waist and dipped too low in the front. The pale lilac fabric pooled at my feet in an elegant sweep, the slit climbing mid-thigh. I felt exposed but didn't have the energy to argue.
She called it 'elegantly lethal'.
I tugged at the bodice in the vanity mirror, trying to find some level of cover. The bruises from the collar had finally faded, the itching redness from the burning silver had calmed.
But I could still feel it at times, when hands caught me in my sleep, pressing and squeezing on my throat as flames licked at my bones.
The world went fuzzy and I could hear a voice calling my name through water but this time, those warm tingles didn't save me.
I clawed at the collar around my neck but it didn't work and I tumbled further into the void as white hot needles stabbed me.
Always the same dream.
Sometimes I could hear Talia's voice, sometimes it was my mother. Most often, it was Dax.
I smoothed my hands over the soft curls, exhaling slowly as I pulled them in front of my shoulder. I was styled into something soft, deceptively delicate. I looked regal, like I belonged at this gala instead. Like I hadn't kissed a man promised to another..
The kiss.
It burned through every quiet moment, stealing my focus, making Talia suspicious whenever my mind drifted. Every part of this house dripped with his scent. He was impossible to escape.
The way he touched me with worshipful desperation. The way he didn't beg, but almost did. How I didn't stop him.
My hands felt shaky as I reached behind to finish zipping up my dress.
The knock was soft and sure.
"Come in," I called over my shoulder.
Eyes on the ceiling as though it would help my hand reach higher, I fiddled with the metal fastener. "I can't get this," I said to Talia. "Can you help?"
Fingers brushed gently over the skin on my back, leaving trails of electricity in their wake as they slowly slid the zip into place.
That wasn't Talia.
Dax's hand skimmed over my ribs and around my waist, pulling me back against his chest, his nose brushing against the shell of my ear.
I hated how I melted into him so easily, how pliable I became under his touch.
"You look stunning," he murmured in my ear, voice husky and low and filled with awe.
I turned in his arms, hands against his chest as I found dark, amber eyes looking down at me. His black tuxedo was tailored to perfection, bow tie slightly askew, and his dark hair was neatly styled like one wrong move would have it mussed and wind swept.
"Not so bad yourself."
His half smile drew my eyes to his lips and my chin angled up as I remembered how they had felt against my neck.
Dax leaned in, his nose touching mine, his lips only a breath away.
It would have been so easy to tilt my head, press my lips against his and taste him again.
The anticipation hummed between us like a live wire, each of us knowing what we wanted but neither strong enough to move.
"We can't," I whispered, letting my hands slide down his chest to hang at my sides.
His exhale was shaky as he stepped back, eyes burning but guarded as he fought back the glowing amber of his wolf.
"That was close." I had to say something, anything to distract from how my heart thudded in my chest, each beat yearning to be closer to him.
He nodded with a clenched jaw. "Too close," he agreed. "I didn't think it would be so hard to stop thinking about it."
My heart jumped in a girlish flutter, too surprised by his admission to hide the expression as my lips parted and my eyes widened. I blinked, smoothing my face out and forced my feet to take another step back.
Space. We needed more space.
When he got too close, my brain went fuzzy and my heart lurched towards him. Rational thoughts of duty and responsibility were hard to maintain when his gentle warmth was so intoxicating.
I swallowed down the swell of pride in my throat and the lull of fear that rose with it. "Do you want this? Us?"
The question sounded weak and desperate. I should have been disappointed with myself but back and forth anticipation was becoming too much, too distracting.
Something burned in Dax's eyes, raw and honest as he met my eyes with force.
"Desperately," he said, and it sounded like a confession. Like it cost him something to admit it.
The 'but' was silent, yet much too loud to ignore.
"But breaking the engagement could trigger a challenge." I filled in the blank, the heavy reality that neither of us had wanted to address since the kiss we had shared.
"De Silva won't back down." Dax leaned against the vanity, arms crossed in a way that made the jacket strain against his biceps.
"He's the 'team player' when it comes to the Council but Waxing Shadow didn't become the strongest pack because he plays nice.
A challenge to his power isn't taken lightly. "
"Challenges down here aren't common?" I asked, head tilting slightly.
Most conflicts in the north were solved with a challenge, a fight to submission where strength and skill dominated.
Dax shook his head. "No. This wouldn't be me fighting de Silva for a slight against Lyra. This would tie our packs together so the slight would be against all of Waxing Shadow. My whole pack would be dragged into it."
It was everything I had already put together but hearing it aloud was different. It made it real.
"You can't risk their lives for this." It was a statement, not a question.
My pack came first, above me. Their needs above my wants. I wouldn't let him decide any differently and I knew he would do the same. I had seen him struggle to make the tough call and put himself last anyway and I respected him for it.
"I can't go through with it." His voice sounded strained, like he was fighting against himself.
"Then don't."
Dax raised his eyebrows at me.
"Keep your pact. Stay promised to her. Play the part. Then find a loophole."
His eyes narrowed slightly, brows drawing together as he mind worked it over. My hands fidgeted with my dress, smoothing out invisible creases.
"Find a way to make them break it and they have no standing for a challenge," he agreed but still frowned. "And us?"
"We play the part too. For peace." The words felt acidic on my tongue, like my body was rejecting the idea of not claiming him in front of the world and marking him as mine.
"For now."
His eyes were pained as he stood. My fingers twitched to reach out and straighten his bow tie but I took a step back to try and keep the distance as he walked out of the room. Dax lingered at the door like he wanted to say more.
Instead, he left but the look on his face, the yearning buried behind resolve left me burning.
I blinked away the tears that pricked my eyes as I stared at the door. I willed my mask back into place but as I watched Talia shoot worried glances towards me in the mirror as I touched up my makeup, I wondered whether the fractures were too deep to repair.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Talia asked as we made the short walk to the Council house where the gala was being held. It was gentle but not doubting, just laced with care.
"I have to be."
She let me words settle before plying me with another of her tentative glances.
"He's been looking at you different."
I didn't need to ask who she meant.
"He does it when you're not looking," she continued, eyes now set on the building in front of us. "And when she's not looking."
I didn't answer. My stomach was already churning at the thought of seeing him with her.
"Did something else happen when you were away?" Talia asked like I was an animal she was trying not to spook. "Or the other day at the library?"
The library. That kiss.
"There's nothing going on."
It was hardly a lie. It was the only truth we were allowed.
"Just be careful with your heart," she said softly, her words hushed only for me as we entered the building and privacy disappeared.
The ballroom shimmered with soft candlelight, gentle strings and tinkling laughter echoing through the large hall. I sipped something sweet and intensely watered down from a glass flute, not indulging in the alcohol as usual.
I had to keep my wits about me. Always so controlled, so composed. Always rational and careful. Even when it meant telling the mate who finally accepted me to go be with another woman.
The nausea churned in my stomach but I pushed it away with another sip of my drink.
The doors opened again and my eyes moved before I could stop them.
Dax walked in with Lyra hanging on his arm. Her gown was the colour of congealed blood, her smile bright enough to blind as her hands curled over him with possession. His face was unreadable, his bow tie straightened.
She scanned the room, eyes twinkling, searching.
Until they landed on me and her pretty smile became tipped with poison. Her hand slid up his chest, catching his jaw. She leaned in with a smirk, eyes locked with mine for one more moment.
Then she kissed him.
It was slow and deep, like he belonged to her.
And he let her.
My jaw clenched, heart thudding like it wanted to crawl out of my chest. I knew the truth. This was strategy, not affection.
But knowing didn't stop the burn.
Kiera's mask is starting to come undone and things are going to get messy.
Should Kiera stay the bigger person? Or should she play some games for once?
I am so excited for the next chapter!