Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
If he faces her, he dies.
Kitty’s words echo in my head as I watch the palace gates from across the street.
We’d made it back to the safe house, both of us still shaking. She’d grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise, her eyes wild.
“You need to tell Garrett what we saw,” she’d said, her voice hoarse from terror. “That thing…whatever it was, it’s protecting her. He can’t fight that. No one can.”
Her fingers had dug deeper into my arm. “Get him out of that ball tonight. Extract him before he does something stupid. We don’t have time to be careful anymore.”
She’d released me then, stepping back. “If he faces her, Wolf, he dies. Not from a sword. From whatever the fuck that was in the garden.”
The memory of her fear, so unlike Kitty, drives me forward now. I have to get to him.
I stand in the shadows near the servants’ entrance, wearing clothes Kitty procured. It’s simple, a dark coat and fitted trousers that wouldn’t look out of place. My face is bare in public for the first time in years. I feel naked without it.
The mask has been my shield and my identity. It’s the thing that lets me be someone other than myself. My hand keeps reaching for where it should be. The habit is so ingrained I can’t stop myself. Each time I catch myself doing it, I force my hand back down.
The royal palace is transformed for the Merafall festival. I can see it through the open doors. The grandeur spills out into the entrance hall where I’m hiding.
Hundreds of candles line every surface and alcove. They cast warm, flickering light across the polished marble floors. Garlands of autumn flowers drape from the vaulted ceiling.
Musicians play in the corner, a full orchestra producing music that’s both elegant and lively. The room is packed with Aelfheim’s nobility. High Elves in silk and velvet, their movements graceful as they dance.
It’s beautiful and foreign. A world I was never meant to be part of.
I don’t belong here.
My gut clenches and I want to retreat back into the shadows where I’m comfortable. But I need to save Garrett.
A noble passes close by, giving me a curious look. I straighten my posture, trying to look like I have a reason to be here. He moves on without comment. I survey the crowd anyway, searching for golden hair and a red cape.
There are too many people in the sea of elegant elves. The dance floor is a swirl of color and motion. Then I spot the red cape.
I find him in the center of the dance floor.
Garrett moves through the steps of some formal dance, his partner’s hand in his. She’s a beautiful elven lady in emerald green. He spins her gracefully, the movement so natural it looks effortless. She laughs fondly at something he said.
Are they friends? Have they danced together before?
Of course they have. Garrett is nobility.
They move in the same circles and probably grew up attending events like this together.
The music swells and the dance reaches some kind of climax.
Garrett dips her low and she completely trusts him not to drop her.
Something ugly and possessive curls in my chest.
This is his world. Not dark alleys, guild crypts and blood-soaked missions. Garrett belongs in silk, candlelight and music. The distance between us has never felt wider.
I should leave. This was a mistake. Coming here, watching this, torturing myself with the sight of him in a world I can never be part of.
But he needs to know his opponent is insanely dangerous. I need to get him to safety.
The song ends. Garrett's partner curtsies, still giggling, and clearly charmed. He whispers something that makes her blush before an Aldarelf claims her for the next dance.
I watch him move through three different partners. Each one beautiful and delighted to dance with the Commander of the Valorian. An uncomfortable feeling rumbles in my chest. But I can’t look away.
Wait, wait—
Fuck, no. This can’t be. My heart stops.
His next partner is Queen Rhianelle Wiolant.
She’s wearing a gown of pale blue that brings out the silver in her hair. The dress is elaborate, befitting a queen. A small circlet rests on her head.
Surely she wouldn’t strike in public. But I’ve felt what protects her. That presence doesn’t need witnesses to be absent. It could end him between one breath and the next.
Rhianelle is smiling up at Garrett as they dance, saying something that makes him throw his head back and laugh. I was in her garden hours ago, crouched in that tree with a blade in my hand, seconds away from driving it into her skull.
I look at the queen and I still doubt she is someone who could order Damnation and watch an entire house burn. But I can’t say the same about her dark patron. It was prepared to tear me apart.
The sight of them together sends ice through my veins.
What the fuck are they doing?
They’re dancing like there isn’t an Archon challenge hanging over both their heads.
But I have to admit. They look good together. The thought makes me sick. My hands clench at my sides. I force them to relax before someone notices.
They’re talking. I can see Garrett lean in to hear something she says over the music. He nods and responds.
Finally, the dance ends and Garrett bows to the Queen with courtly grace. She curtsies in return, her blue dress pooling around her. They exchange a few more words. I’m too far away to hear over the music and conversation.
Garrett steps back and Rhianelle is claimed by another partner. He stands alone for a moment, searching the crowd. His eyes find me. Even across the crowded ballroom with my face bare, he knows me immediately.
His whole face lights up and I feel like I’ve been punched in the fucking guts.
He starts moving through the crowd toward me, excusing himself past dancing couples and groups of nobles.
His red cape flows behind him. Several people try to stop him, to engage him in conversation, but he waves them off politely without breaking stride.
Holy fuck, he’s coming straight for me.
I could still run and disappear before he reaches me.
My muscles tense, ready to bolt. Kitty’s advice rings in my ear. Be brave, Wolf.
He stops just out of reach. “You came.”
I nod.
“I didn’t think you would,” he says carefully. He knows me well enough to recognize I’m one wrong word away from running.
A smile tugs at his lips.
He looks happy to see me, as if my presence here matters more than all the nobles around us.
The music continues and the festival goes on. But standing here in this small pocket of shadow near the wall, it feels like we’re the only two people in the room.
“You danced with her,” I say quietly. "With Rhianelle Wiolant."
The words that slip out sound more like jealousy than the warning I’m supposed to convey.
Garrett doesn’t look away from me. “It would have been incredibly rude to not dance with the Queen.”
“I need to tell you something,” I say, lowering my voice even further. “About her. About what she—”
“Not here.” Garrett glances around at the nearby nobles, checking if anyone is paying attention to us.
No one is. They’re too absorbed in their own conversations and dancing. But we’re still too exposed for this conversation.
“Later. When we’re somewhere private,” he dismisses quickly.
“Garrett—”
“Dance with me.”
The request catches me completely off guard. “What?”
“Dance with me,” he repeats, holding out his hand. His green eyes are bright with challenge. “You’re here. So dance with me.”
“No.” The refusal comes out flat and immediate.
“Why not?” Garrett’s hand is still extended between us, waiting.
Everyone will see us. He is drunk and not thinking clearly. I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t dance. I don’t … I don’t know how.”
The admission feels like pulling teeth. Garrett’s face softens. Some of the challenge in his face fades, replaced by understanding.
“I could teach you.” His voice drops lower, intimate despite the crowd around us. “It’s not complicated. Just follow my lead.”
“Garrett—”
“One dance, Wolf. That’s all I’m asking.” He takes another step closer and now we’re definitely too close for propriety.
Fucking hell, we’re close enough that I can see the flush in his cheeks.
“You came all this way,” he teases. “Don’t tell me you came just to lurk in the shadows and watch.”
I came to warn him and get him to safety.
All right, maybe I wanted to see him. Perhaps after facing death in that garden, I needed to see with my own eyes that Garrett was alive and whole and safe.
“I came to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid,” I say under my breath.
His smile is sharp, almost bitter. “Too late for that.”
“There are people trying to assassinate you.” I keep my voice low but the frustration bleeds through anyway. “You’re making yourself vulnerable in a room full of potential threats—”
“I’m living my life, Wolf,” he interrupts, his hand dropping back to his side. “I’m just enjoying one night before everything goes to hell.”
The pain in his voice stops me cold.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, gentler this time. I want to tell him about the failed assassination attempt. Kitty and I came so close to solving this problem permanently.
“I’m just drinking and pretending for a few hours that I’m not condemned.” He’s not smiling anymore. The mask of carefree nobility has cracked just enough for me to see the exhaustion underneath. “I want to dance with you.”
Garrett doesn’t wait for my answer. His hand finds mine and he pulls me away from the entrance, weaving us through the crowd.
He leads me to a small alcove near the far wall, partially hidden by a massive marble column and heavy velvet curtains.
Sound doesn’t carry well to this alcove and the orchestra fades to a gentle hum.
The shadows are deeper in this corner, untouched by candlelight. A few people might still see us if they looked, but most eyes are on the main floor. Garrett turns to face me, still holding my hand.
“No one’s paying attention to us here.” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Just you and me.”
This is stupid. We’re supposed to be focused on survival. I should drag him out of here to safety.
I open my mouth to say no again. But then I see the way he’s looking at me.
Fuck it.
“One dance,” I say.
His emerald eyes sparkle. Garrett looks at me like I just handed him the moon. He closes the space between us completely. My hand is lifted into place and his other hand lands at my waist.
“Relax,” Garrett murmurs. “Just... follow me. Trust me, all right?”
Trust.
Such a simple word for something I’ve never been good at. But I let him guide me into the basic steps of the dance. It’s nothing complicated. A slow back and forth then turning in a small circle.
One-two-three, one-two-three. Garrett counts under his breath for the first few steps until I catch the rhythm.
My boot comes down on his foot and he acts like it didn’t happen. He doesn’t flinch when I’m too stiff and awkward. I feel him redirect me gently, adjusting his hold and pulling me back into the proper rhythm.
“See?” he says after we’ve made it through one full rotation without disaster. “Not so terrible.”
We continue moving until I'm starting to catch the rhythm and relax into it.
Garrett was right.
This is easy. It’s kind of like fighting. You anticipate your partner’s movements and respond, finding the flow.
My pulse quickens as his hand wraps tighter around mine but I don’t pull away. “You’re being reckless.”
He leans in closer, dropping his voice to something only I can hear. “But I’m allowed to be reckless with you. You’ll keep me safe.”
The faith in those words makes it hard to breathe.
“This isn’t—” I struggle for words.
“There are more important things to discuss. The Queen has something protecting her,” I say quietly, keeping my eyes on his shoulder instead of his face. “Something dangerous. I can’t explain what it is but you need to stay away from her.”
“I just danced with her, Wolf. I think if she wanted me dead, it would have happened already,” he says easily.
“I’m serious.” My hand tightens on his shoulder. “There’s something wrong with her.”
I struggle for words to describe it. How do you explain that ominous presence to someone who hasn’t felt it? “She’s different. You can’t win against her, even with your skills.”
Garrett is quiet for a moment, still guiding us through the dance. “How do you know this?”
I don’t even know how to explain that Kitty and I were in her garden with blades drawn. “I just do. Trust me.”
He pulls back slightly to look at my face. Whatever he sees there makes his expression soften. “I do trust you. If you say she’s dangerous, I believe you.”
He pulls me closer until there’s barely any space between us at all.
His forehead nearly touches mine. We’ve stopped moving and the people who pass by our little corner are definitely watching now.
I can feel eyes on us, hear the whispers starting.
This is exactly the kind of attention I’m supposed to avoid.
“You’re making a scene,” I mutter against his ear.
There's a devilish edge to his smile now. “Let them talk. I’m tired of caring what people think.”
This is the fae wine talking. Garrett isn’t thinking clearly and tomorrow he’ll regret this. I need to get him out of here before he does something even more stupid.
“Come on.” I finally step back, breaking the intimate circle we’ve created. “Let’s go.”