Chapter 24 #3
A waltz begins then, and the room responds immediately.
Conversations pause as couples move toward the floor as though summoned by habit.
They take their places for what appears to be some sort of couples’ dance.
Silas takes my hand and tugs me forward, the black stone on his ring catching the chandelier light.
“Uhhh… what are you doing?”
“It’s a traditional Salem’s Fall Christmas dance,” he says. “As a member of a founding family, it’s my obligation to teach you.”
I look at him. “I thought this was a strategic alliance only.”
“Strategic alliances can include dancing.”
“Are you sure?” I tease. “I don’t think that’s in the official rules.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t try to kiss you again, if that’s your concern,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth and lingering there, slow enough to feel like a touch.
He steps closer, forcing me to tip my head back to meet his eyes.
I forget sometimes just how much taller he is than me.
His voice drops, low and private. “Unless… you want me to.”
My pulse stumbles, then forgets how to behave entirely.
And just like that, I’m remembering our kiss again. His lips on mine. How ridiculously good it felt. How much trouble that wicked mouth of his could get me into.
For one reckless second, I almost consider closing the distance and finding out if he’s willing to do it all over again. Then I get a grip on myself and let him pull me onto the dance floor before I can do anything stupid.
My head rests on his shoulder as his palm settles against my waist, holding me like he’s been waiting all night for the excuse.
Every point of contact between us becomes impossible to ignore.
The warmth of his hands through the velvet.
The quiet strength in the arms holding me.
We turn beneath the chandeliers, Silas moving with complete control.
He adjusts when I hesitate and somehow makes every misstep I make look intentional.
“You’re really good at this,” I say, admiring how effortlessly he moves.
“My mother considers ballroom dancing a basic survival skill.” He smiles. “You’re not as terrible as I thought you’d be.”
“Careful,” I joke. “Wouldn’t want to overdo it with the compliments. I might start thinking you don’t still hate me, after all.”
I give him a teasing grin, not really meaning it. We’re not exactly friends, but something between us has shifted, even if I’m not ready to examine it too closely.
His hand tightens at my waist. “Perhaps I simply hate how much everyone else seems to like you.”
When I look up, his eyes catch the light, and I’m surprised to see they’re not as dark as I always thought. This close, I can see the actual color beneath—blue, so deep it only reveals itself when the light strikes directly.
“What does that mean?”
His gaze shifts past me to a quiet corner where Rowan and Georgina sit together. “For starters, Ashcroft is still quite taken with you.”
My step falters.
“He is not. He tried to kill me, or did you forget?”
“I can assure you, the way Ashcroft feels about you has nothing to do with his actions when it comes to the Veil. He’s still very much under your spell, as much as he dislikes it.”
I glance over Silas’s shoulder to find Rowan watching us, his expression intense, almost angry.
“And he’s not the only one.” Silas leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a shiver racing down my neck. “Every time you enter a room, heads turn.”
“What, you’ve been keeping track?”
“Yes.” His hand moves fractionally lower along my back. “And I don’t like it.”
My fingers curl into his shoulder as he lowers his head. As if caught in some magnetic pull I can’t resist, I tilt my face toward his. My lips part, my pulse racing.
With a start, I realize not only that he’s going to kiss me, but something far more alarming.
I want him to.
But then something changes in his eyes—a flicker of unease, gone as fast as it appears. I follow the direction of his gaze for half a second and catch a cluster of Veil members near the far wall, watching us with unconcealed interest, whispering to one another.
Silas straightens, putting careful distance between us. “I’ll be back,” he says, his voice suddenly cool. “I need to speak with the senator. We have something… important to discuss.”
A sharp pang of disappointment hits me unexpectedly as the warmth of his body disappears, leaving the space between us strangely cold.
I watch him go and can’t decide whether I should be grateful or offended.
I know he wanted to kiss me. I could feel it.
Whatever stopped him had nothing to do with the senator.
Still, it’s probably for the best. A partnership with Silas Blackhollow is already complicated enough. Adding sex to the equation would only make things infinitely worse.
At the bar alone, I take another glass of champagne and watch Micah and Wren laughing together while Lena seems to be having a nice time with the woman in the gold dress. For one brief moment in time, everyone I care about in Salem’s Fall appears safe.
Then Lucien Blackhollow steps up beside me.
“Enjoying the evening, Ms. Mercer?”