CHAPTER THIRTEEN #3
"Let's go," Sera said beside me, nudging my elbow as she and Darcy appeared with a tray of glowing amber shots.
I snatched one without looking, locked eyes with the devil himself, and threw it back.
The liquid burned, sliding down my throat like liquid flame.
I walked through the crowd, never breaking eye contact.
He stood casually near the drinks table in loose black sweats and a low-cut vest that clung to his frame and did absolutely nothing to hide our bond mark—etched like fire above his heart.
He was displaying it. Deliberately. My eyes trailed down his arms, ink curling around muscle that flexed as he leaned back against the wall. I licked my lips without thinking.
He smirked. Gods.
As I reached him, Ryven was the first to speak. He offered a dramatic bow, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Purple, very interesting."
"Purple's my favorite color," I said simply, and caught Asher's grin deepening as he pushed off the wall and closed the distance between us.
"Princess," he murmured over his drink, his voice like honey and sin.
"Bond," I replied—maybe a little too possessively. The shot had definitely gone straight to my head.
He growled, low, but I felt it in my soul. A shiver slipped down my spine, and shadows curled at my ankles like they had a mind of their own.
"Drink?" he asked, reaching for one on the table beside him. The music thumped louder behind us.
I nodded. He handed it over, and I took a whiff—sweet with a hint of spice. "Thanks," I said, sipping and turning toward the group to join the conversation.
Maddy was already curled on Ryven's lap, whispering something that made him blush.
Sera was hanging off the arm of a tall, unfamiliar guy with silver-beaded dreadlocks, stormy eyes, and smooth brown skin.
Ember and Ezra were flirting nonstop; the two of them had become extremely close and were essentially the same person.
"Ava, this is Mavrik," Sera said brightly.
The male stepped forward with a roguish smile and bowed slightly. "Princess Ava. Good to meet you."
"Please don't bow," I groaned. "It's good to meet you, too."
Sera gestured between them. "Mavrik's on the Riftball team—beat Asher yesterday. Fair and square."
He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth. "Gotta try to take out the captain when you get the chance."
Captain? I flicked a look at Asher. Of course he was.
"Oh my gods, Ava!" Ember suddenly shrieked, bouncing in her boots. "Tryouts for the cheer squad are tomorrow! We have to do it."
"Yes!" Maddy gasped. "We'd slay!"
"Oh gods, yes please," Ryven muttered, nuzzling into Maddy's neck. She swatted him, giggling.
Asher leaned in close behind me, his breath warm on my ear. "Please do," he whispered, his voice dark and husky.
I stiffened slightly, feeling the way Mavrik's eyes drifted from my face... to my collarbone. To the mark.
"How's it feel being blood-bound to this prick?" Mavrik asked with a grin, clearly unfazed by the shadow-wrapped male looming behind me.
I smiled sweetly, the amber shot still singing in my veins. "Well, I own him."
The entire group went still. Grins broke out; smirks followed. Ryven straight-up laughed, the sound bright against the heavy thumping of the music. Mavrik nodded, his eyes lingering thoughtfully on the glowing sigil on my collarbone. "Hmm."
The response from the bond was instantaneous. Shadows coiled around my thighs—slow, heavy, and undeniably approving.
I didn't even have to look back to know Asher was wearing a look of pure, smug satisfaction.
"Incoming," Ryven muttered, his gaze flicking toward the edge of the garden.
I turned, and the air in my lungs vanished.
Jeremy.
He looked like the Earth Goddess herself had carved him from mountain stone and honeyed sun.
His white linen shirt hung open, the soft fabric loose around his arms but parted enough to showcase the sculpted lines of his chest and the tantalizing trail of his V-line disappearing into his matching low-slung pants.
He was barefoot, earthen charms shimmering around his neck with elemental energy, and living vines wrapped his forearms like pulsing bracelets.
My heart slammed against my ribs. Gods, he was unreal.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he could feel the exact moment my resolve wavered.
The group fell silent as he crossed the space and pulled me into his arms. One second I was grounded, and the next, I was crushed against the hard heat of his chest. His arm was a firm iron band around my waist, his lips brushing mine with a maddening, slow restraint that made my head swim.
Behind me, the shift was violent. Asher's shadows recoiled instantly, snapping back like a lashed whip. And stars help me—my body actually ached at the loss of them.
Jeremy's gaze roamed lower, his emerald eyes darkening as they tracked the curve of my hips in the purple glitter. He growled, a low, possessive vibration I felt in my teeth. "You look..." He paused, his voice thick enough to make my stomach tumble. "...absolutely stunning."
A slow, knowing smile curved my lips. "You don't look bad yourself," I replied, my fingertips ghosting down the warm skin of his chest.
Then, his eyes dipped. They landed straight on the glowing gold blood-bond sigil on my collarbone.
His jaw clenched so hard the bone jumped. I felt the fury coil through him, a physical tension that radiated off his skin as he looked over my shoulder at the male standing behind me.
I turned slightly, caught in the crossfire.
Asher was leaning casually against the table, drink in hand, watching us with the detached interest of a predator. He didn't look angry; he looked bored, smirking like the smug bastard he was, his silver eyes tracking the way Jeremy's hand gripped my waist.
I scowled at him, but the bond only hummed with a wicked, electric amusement.
"Asher," Jeremy said flatly, his voice dropping into a dangerous register.
Asher raised his glass in a silent, mocking acknowledgement. "Jeremy."
That was it. No shouting, no blows—just a tension that crackled between them like wildfire through my blood. Jeremy didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he turned back to me, leaning in until his lips were brushing the shell of my ear.
"Dance with me?"
My breath caught. I looked up into those emerald depths, my heart thudding wildly against my ribs. "Of course, my prince."
He smiled, and that smile was nothing but trouble.
As he led me away from the group and toward the heart of the dance floor, I glanced back—just once.
Asher stood exactly where I had left him, unmoving.
The shadows at his feet weren't just curling anymore; they were lashing out in low, jagged spikes, licking at the marble like they ached to follow.
Through the bond, I felt it—a thick, suffocating tension that tasted like ozone and bruised silver.
It was jealousy, raw and serrated, but beneath that was something far more dangerous.
Something that felt like a predator watching its prize walk into another's territory.
Good, I thought, straightening my spine as Jeremy's hand slid lower, pulling me flush against his heat.
Let him feel every jagged edge of it. Let him know that while he might be stitched into my soul, I am the one holding the needle.
I do own him.
···
The drinks flowed, and so did Jeremy's hands.
Gods, the male could dance. He was never one to let loose in public—usually the composed, restrained future prince with a glass smile.
But tonight? This wasn't a royal ball. This was his territory, his house, and his world.
Here, he was real. The way he smiled at me was slow, crooked, and heavy with mischief.
He kissed me as if he had been waiting years for the privilege, claiming me with bold hands and lips that trailed a path of fire down my neck.
It made me fall in love with him all over again. That spark I'd buried—the one that had died with Jax—was suddenly back, roaring to life. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just Jeremy. Him. Here. Us.
Shot after shot blurred the world into a beautiful haze.
Our group had spilled onto the dance floor in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
Maddy and Ryven were lost in each other, while Ezra and Ember had taken on Darcy and Asher in a game of beer pong that involved a lot of shrieking protests and smug, shadowy cheating.
Sera and Mavrik were deep in conversation, her laugh bright and frequent. And me? I was lost in Jeremy.
He was behind me now, his hands a firm, bruising weight on my hips as his body moved in perfect rhythm with mine.
My fingers tangled in the thick silk of his hair, my head falling back as his lips dragged hot, humid breath across my throat.
It was intoxicating. His scent—moss and wild, deep roots—clouded every breath I took.
My body hummed, molten and electric, until I felt seconds away from total combustion.
I closed my eyes, swaying with him in the dim, pulsing faelight. And then, I opened them.
The table was different now. Ezra and Ember were gone. Darcy was already chatting up someone new, and Maddy was nowhere in sight. But he was still there.
Asher.
He was sitting alone at the table, a drink held loosely in his hand. He wasn't playing anymore. He was just watching me. He sat with the terrifying patience of a predator waiting for the exact moment his prey exhausted itself.
Our eyes locked across the crowded floor. My stomach dipped, a sickening, thrilling freefall. He didn't move. He didn't blink. He just stared, his silver gaze cutting through the strobe of the lanterns like a blade.
I didn't look away. Instead, I smirked. It was a dangerous, provocative expression.
I ground my hips harder into Jeremy's, moving with a deliberate, slow friction as if to prove a point.
As if I wasn't unraveling. As if my traitorous heart wasn't pounding double-time under the sheer weight of that silver stare.