CHAPTER THREE #2
Leaning against a pillar like the entire hall was his to command.
A half-buttoned black shirt bared a glimpse of his chest, sleeves shoved to his elbows, tattoos curling like dark script across the cut of his forearms. His silver eyes locked on me, drinking me in.
When I nervously licked my lips, his gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening visibly.
He set his goblet aside with deliberate slowness, slid one hand into his pocket, and with the other, opened his palm.
Shadows bled from it instantly.
They spilled forth like smoke given hunger, coiling through the air as they reached for me.
Gods, I couldn't look away as the darkness slid across the marble, curling around my ankles like silk come alive.
All I could feel was the brush of those tendrils against my skin, and gods help me, it felt good.
Beside me, Ember's jaw nearly hit the floor, her green eyes wide with delighted shock. My heart thundered against my ribs, wild and uneven.
"He's going to come over here," Ember said, far too gleeful, sipping her shot like she was watching a private show.
Then, click.
His dress shoes struck the marble with a measured, lethal precision, cutting through the crowded ballroom like a blade through silk.
The Umbra students parted for him without a single word, shadows pouring off his frame in dark, liquid rivers.
Couples slid aside instinctively, yielding the floor as if he commanded the very air he breathed—and gods, he looked devastating doing it.
Then he smiled. That wicked, ruinous grin.
Those impossible dimples.
My throat went bone-dry. My tongue darted over my lower lip before I could stop the reflex, and his gaze flickered to the motion, his smirk deepening with predatory intent.
"Gods, you're pathetic," Aether muttered through the bond, the mental equivalent of an exasperated groan.
I ignored him, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
"Princess," Asher murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that settled in my marrow.
He extended his hand, palm up. "Dance?"
I froze, my pulse spiking as I shot a glance at Ember. Her eyes were glittering with mischief, her smile sharp as a dagger as she lifted her goblet in a silent, daring toast.
"Do it," she mouthed. "You have to."
I swallowed hard, a spark of pure, unadulterated fire igniting in my chest. Fuck it.
"Of course," I said, letting a slow, wicked smile curl my lips as I placed my hand in his.
The instant our skin met, a jolt of lightning shot through me—searing up my arm and crashing straight into my heart.
I gasped, my eyes flying to his face, searching for a reaction. Asher didn't flinch. He just watched me, his gaze steady and unreadable, as though he felt nothing at all while my entire world tilted.
Then his hand slid around my waist, his palm searingly warm against the bare skin where my gown dipped low.
The heat shivered down my spine, coiling tight in the pit of my stomach.
With one hand resting on his broad shoulder and the other trapped in his calloused grip, I looked up at him.
"Who are you?" I whispered. The question slipped out before I could catch it.
His smirk deepened, turning dark and knowing.
"Asher Maddox." His voice was a low rumble of silk and shadow. "Nephew to Queen Sailene."
Interesting. The nephew of the Queen of Umbra herself.
"Nice to meet you," I managed, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he spun me out effortlessly, the world blurring into a streak of red and gold, before hauling me back against him.
I collided with his chest, solid and searing, our bodies flush and our faces inches apart. He leaned down, his mouth grazing the shell of my ear.
"Likewise, darling," he murmured, the word brushing hot and heavy against my skin.
His hand slid lower, settling firmly at the small of my back—unmistakably possessive, anchoring me there as if daring me to even try to pull away.
His breath brushed my lips, close enough to taste, close enough to ruin me.
Gods help me, my heart was hammering so hard I thought it might actually tear itself apart.
"Relax, darling," Asher whispered, his lips grazing the curve of my ear. His voice was velvet wrapped in smoke.
"Your heart's about to beat its way out of your chest."
Damn fae hearing.
He leaned back just enough for me to see that devastating grin, those molten-silver eyes gleaming like they knew every secret I'd ever tried to bury.
"I don't bite," he added, his voice dropping to a silken shadow, "unless you want me to."
Heat surged up my throat, thick and heavy. I wanted to look away, to shove him back and reclaim my space, but instead, I forced a smirk and tilted my chin.
"You wouldn't be able to handle this."
His laugh rumbled through me—low, rich, and vibrating against my ribs. It shook something loose in my chest that had been locked tight since Jax.
He tipped his head back as he laughed; gods, that sound. I hated how effortlessly it set me alight.
"You're dangerous, Firecracker," he said, tugging me closer until there wasn't a breath of air between us.
My hands had already found the line of his neck, my fingers curling against his warm skin before I even realized I'd moved.
My own flame flickered restlessly at my fingertips, aching to break free and meet his shadows.
From the edge of the dance floor, I heard Ember whoop like she'd just scored the winning point in Riftball, her eyes bright with triumph.
And me? I was burning alive in Asher Maddox's arms, and I hated how much I didn't want him to let go.
"So, Firecracker…" His voice was a low tease, every syllable weighed. "What's your deal?"
I arched a brow, wrapping myself in sarcasm like a suit of armor. "Other than being the gods-damned heir and having every male in this hall staring at me like I'm prey? I'm usually the quiet type."
He laughed again—that low, rich thunder that seemed to roll right through my defenses.
"I highly doubt you're quiet," Asher murmured, his grin sharpening into something lethal.
I forced my voice out, making it sharper than I actually felt. "And what's your deal?"
"Mmm." His smirk deepened, a dark, knowing thing. "Darling, I'm not the kind type. And I'm certainly not the quiet type."
He shifted suddenly, hauling me closer until my chest was crushed against his, then caught my hand and dipped me low with effortless, terrifying strength.
The world spun. My leg slipped free through the high slit of my gown, and his hand moved, his palm firm and searing against my bare thigh.
Gasps rippled through the surrounding crowd, but I didn't have the air to look at them.
All I could see were those merciless silver eyes tracking the line of my throat. My lips parted, desperate for air, for control—for anything to steady the ground beneath me.
Then he drew me upright in a single, fluid motion, my leg still hooked shamelessly against his hip.
He didn't let go. His mouth brushed the shell of my ear, his grin cutting deep enough to show those impossible dimples.
"Then what are you?" I breathed, the words barely a whisper.
"Your darkest desire," he whispered back.
My flames surged in response—a wild, white-hot roar racing through my veins, clawing to break free and consume him.
I bit them back, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I held on with everything I had left.
"Ava?"
The voice broke the spell, pulling me back from the precipice of his gaze.
I whipped my head to the side, and there he was—Jeremy, his emerald eyes slicing through the air, his jaw locked.
I could feel a slight, rhythmic tremor under my feet; he was barely keeping the ground beneath us from cracking.
"Jeremy," I said, my voice coming out too loud, too breathless.
Gods, my body was on fire.
My thigh was still trapped in Asher's hand, the heat pooling dangerously low in my stomach, while my own hands were still tangled around the dark line of his neck.
It was like a spell suddenly snapping.
I scrambled to let go of Asher, his palm feeling like a brand as it finally slid off my bare skin.
I straightened my gown, smoothing the silk with trembling fingers, and dared to look at him.
I regretted it instantly.
The gods-damned smug bastard was looking at Jeremy with a blatant, lethal challenge written in every line of his face.
"Thank you, Asher, for the dance," I managed to choke out.
"Of course, darling. The pleasure was entirely mine." He reached out, caught my hand, and brought it to his lips.
Gods, the second his mouth met my skin, electricity scorched its way up my arm, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning aloud. His lips lingered a heartbeat too long, and I swear to the gods, the tremors beneath my heels intensified.
He gave me a slow, mocking wink and vanished into the shadows of the crowd.
He left me standing there, breathless and burning, with the impending earthquake to deal with.
I exhaled a shaky breath and turned toward Jeremy, whose eyes were still fixed on the spot where Asher had vanished.
"Jer," I breathed, reaching out to catch his hand. His gaze finally tore away from the crowd and crashed into mine.
He gripped my hand and pulled me flush against his chest, guiding me into the rhythm of the next song with a rigid, practiced grace.
As his green eyes poured into mine, I felt the tension in his shoulders begin to bleed away, and the tremors in the ground finally stilled.
Then he smiled—that familiar, comforting curve of his lips. "Hello, sweetheart."
My chest constricted at the sound of it.
That nickname.
It tasted like childhood and safety, but tonight, it felt like a restraint.
"You need to be careful of him," Jeremy said, his jaw locked tight.
"Jealous?" The word landed with far less bite than I'd intended.
"Of course I am, Ava." His grip tightened, a flicker of something raw crossing his face.
"I watched you out there with him and I—" He stopped, jaw working. "I don't want to lose you. I know I haven't been there the way I should have since Jax. But I'm here now."