Chapter 27 #3
A quiet thank you echoes in my mind to my grandfather. His words ring clear as ever.
‘Size doesn’t win fights. Strategy does.’
I inhale sharply, shaking off the lingering tremor in my hands. I won’t let this ruin my night.
I slip back inside, sticking to the edges of the hall, scanning for the nearest bathroom. The second I spot it, I duck in. It's empty. Thank God.
I brace my hands against the sink, finally taking in my reflection under the harsh fluorescent light.
Jesus.
The redness along my cheek is worse than I thought, but not terrible. My lip looks split, or at least it feels like it. But I can’t tell with all the blood. I know I took that hit hard. My whole face is throbbing, but my nose is only a little swollen. I expected it to be bruised. Maybe even broken.
I grab a paper tower, wetting it with cool water before dabbing at my mouth, wincing as the sting shoots through me. I clean it off expecting fresh blood. But there’s nothing.
I blink, frowning.
My lip was split, wasn’t it?
I felt it. The sting. The warmth of the blood trickling down my chin. But my skin is smooth.
I swallow, pressing the paper towel against my mouth again, harder this time, like the pressure will confirm what I know I felt.
Still nothing. Just a dull ache.
The blood must’ve come from my nose. I did take that hit straight on, and I didn’t exactly examine myself before wiping my face off. Maybe I panicked. Maybe I just thought my lip was split.
I shake my head, exhaling hard. Clearly it’s the shock.
I know I need to get back out there before someone comes looking for me, so I smooth my dress, trying to will away the faint tremble still lingering in my fingers. With one last glance at my reflection, I try to fix my hair and put on a smile.
Not perfect, but good enough.
I step out of the bathroom and my pulse is still a little too fast, so I force deep, steady breaths, shaking off the lingering unease as I reenter the ballroom.
The second I step inside, my eyes find Cam by the edge of the dance floor.
Or maybe he finds me.
His gaze sharpens, and his entire demeanor shifts the moment he sees my face. I barely take two steps before he’s in front of me with his hands firmly on my shoulders, and his brows are pulling together in concern.
“What the hell happened?” His voice is demanding, and his eyes are already locked onto my lip.
I force a laugh, rolling my eyes as I gesture toward my thigh-high boots. “Oh, you know, I just tripped. Look at these things. They're a menace to society.” I huff dramatically, lifting a foot. “I’m seriously considering ditching them.”
His eyes flick down to my boots, unimpressed. He drags his gaze back to mine, keeping his voice flat. “Tripped, huh?”
The disbelief is thick enough to choke on.
“Hey, these boots are dangerous territory,” I insist, keeping my smile locked in place. “Trust me.”
His eyes search mine, peeling back the lie like it’s his job.
“Raven.” His voice dips lower. “Don’t bullshit me.”
Something tightens in my chest, but I push past it. Before I can respond, his thumb brushes the edge of my lip, and I flinch at the slight sting. His jaw tightens and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves.
“Well,” he says after a beat. His voice is lighter, but I can tell it's forced. “Who am I to question a lady?”
He grins, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Seriously, are you okay?”
I look right at him. “Yup. I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed, honestly.”
I know he doesn’t buy it, but his eyes stay locked on mine, searching for anything that proves I’m lying.
I fight the urge to shift my weight, knowing that I’m a terrible liar.
After a second, he lets go of my shoulders.
But the look he gives me says this conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
“Dance with me.”
It’s not a question.
I don't even get the chance to protest before he grabs my hand and pulls me into the dance. His movements are effortless, twirling me with a confidence that forces a real laugh out of me. “If you insist,” I tease, letting him lead.
“If I find out something actually happened, and you didn’t tell me, Raven…” His voice is quiet and rough as he tightens his grip. “I’m gonna be pissed.”
I arch a brow, my own smile turning sly as I meet his intensity head-on. “Oh, don’t worry, Cameron. If I ever need a knight in shining armor, you’ll be the first to know.”
His hold tenses for a fraction of a second before he smirks. “You better. Because trust me, I don’t play games when it comes to shit like this.”
Something about the way he says it sends a slow ripple of unease down my spine. But I refuse to let him see it.
Instead, I hold his gaze. “Noted. Now stop scowling, and dance with me.”
He exhales a laugh, finally spinning me back out, but just before the song ends, his voice drops again, low enough for only me to hear.
“And don’t worry. I won’t tell Kane that you’d call me first.”
I smile, shaking my head. “Oh, please. I’d call you first just to give Kane a reason to be pissed.”
Cam’s deep, amused laugh is the last thing I hear before the music tapers off, signaling the end of the song.
The night is winding down, but my thoughts are a tangled mess. One minute, I’m having the time of my life. The next I’m lying about getting elbowed in the face by some creep in the garden.
Why did we do that again? It doesn't matter now, it's too late to back out.
The thought gnaws at me as Cam and I weave our way toward the back of the room.
The ballroom hums with life, a kaleidoscope of swirling gowns and polished suits under the glow of the chandeliers. My eyes sweep across the crowd, until they land on Kane, who’s currently dancing with Rachel.
My stomach tightens, but I shove the feeling down as I watch Rachel grin up at him, lost in the moment. But the second Kane spots me, his expression changes. His posture locks and his entire focus narrows in on me. They’re both moving now, making their way toward us, but Kane gets to me first.
His presence alone is enough to suck the air from the room.
“What happened?”
The words aren’t a question, they’re a command. His eyes flick to my lip, narrowing slightly before snapping back to mine. The weight of his concern is suffocating, but I refuse to let it shake me.
I force a laugh, adjusting my dress, keeping my tone light. “Nothing happened,” I say breezily. “I tripped earlier, that’s all. These boots might not have been made for walking after all.”
His jaw tightens, and his gaze burns through my flimsy excuse like it physically offends him.
“Tripped?” He repeats, the word dripping with dangerous skepticism. His voice stays calm, but there’s a lethal edge beneath it.
Before he can press further, Cam lets out a snort, giving me a playful nudge.
“Great legs, but I’m not sure those boots are worth risking your life for.” He winks, smiling at Rachel. “Sorry, not sorry… still funny.”
I force a chuckle, ignoring the way my heart is still racing, and chance a quick glance at Kane. His eyes haven’t left mine, like he’s peeling back every excuse I’ve thrown up, searching for the truth buried beneath it. Fuck.
Rachel steps up beside me, giving me a once-over before shaking her head with a grin. “Of course you would fall,” she laughs. “You’ve got the balance of a newborn giraffe in those boots.”
I let out a dramatic sigh, relieved they seem to be buying it.
My fingers toy with the hem of my dress, a nervous habit I force myself to suppress.
The last thing I need is this suffocating scrutiny, and risk unraveling everything I’ve carefully tied together.
Whatever happened in that garden, whatever he meant by 'None of this belongs to you,' it’s over.
And I have no intention of dragging it into the rest of the night, or letting it bleed into something that was supposed to be magical.
At this point I’m banking on that creep being long gone. I’ve already flat-out lied, and I’m not about to unravel it now.
The music softens and a hush ripples through the ballroom as a woman steps forward with a mic in hand.
It’s Kane’s dance partner from earlier.
Up close, she's even more stunning. She has short blonde hair that's styled to perfection, and she's wearing a deep emerald gown that hugs every inch of her.
Her white mask has gold accents on it that make her look like some untouchable goddess, and she belongs on a throne rather than a dance floor.
And the worst part is, she doesn't even have to try to command the room.
Just lifting the mic is enough to silence everyone, like they're all waiting on her next word.
She might be small, but she radiates authority.
I like her already.
“Thank you all for coming and supporting this event,” she begins, her voice echoing through the room. “We always have so much fun putting this together every year. This is such a special night, and we couldn’t do it without all of you.”
She has the room hanging on her every word. Then her lips curve into something mischievous.
“And of course, I’d like to give a special thanks to my brother, wherever he’s hiding, for all his help, even though he acted like lifting a finger might actually kill him.”
A ripple of laughter spreads through the crowd.
“Okay, I’m kidding,” she continues, grinning. “He’s the reason we all get to enjoy this beautiful space tonight. I hope you’ve all had a fantastic evening, and we can’t wait to see you again next year. As things wind down, if you need a ride, just let security know on your way out.”
A wave of applause sweeps through the room, the cheers follow as the finality of her words settles in.
I glance at Kane watching his expression soften slightly, but there’s something in his eyes as he watches her. Something warm.
It’s stupid, really. Why should I care how he looks at her? She’s clearly incredible, and beautiful, and the connection between them is obvious.