Chapter 17 #4
The dancers who had cleared off the floor for us started filing back in.
I turned around, loath to stay on the edge of the dance floor for a moment longer.
Other than the twins, there wasn’t anyone I was willing to dance with.
I grabbed a crystal flute filled with something fizzy from the refreshment table behind me.
Tipping it back, the sweet and fruity liquid sloshed over my tongue, the bubbles refreshing after the conflicting emotions.
People were leaving me alone and I was actually starting to relax a bit when a sharp voice spoke from behind me.
“He was mine first, you know.” A petite, blonde woman, dressed in scarlet, her dress cut low enough it put her rather large breasts on serious display, slid up to my side.
Her words hit like a punch in the gut. I knew who this must be—Aine. It was so much worse than I had pictured. She was all golden curves and confident smiles. Unlike me, she knew precisely where she belonged—and it was here.
“Excuse me?” I coughed a bit as I took a larger sip than intended and the bubbles went down roughly.
“Griffin. He and I go way back.” She tossed her golden ringlets and toyed with a pendant that rested in her cleavage, drawing attention to assets that I certainly didn’t possess in such abundance.
Was this the type of woman he liked? And how far was way back?
I rarely thought about the fact that Griff was older than me; he’d lived an entire lifetime before he met me. Had he lived it with her?
And the way she said his name, like she owned it? Like she owned him? Something hot and ugly spread over me—anger, and another emotion I refused to name.
“Good for you.” The words came out evenly, which I was proud of as I was busy comparing us and coming up with every instance where I was lacking.
She grasped my arm, her long, painted fingernails digging into my wrist. “You watch yourself. I don’t like it when people play with my things.”
My things? Like she owned him? Something cracked inside me. Fuck this.
I glanced around, but of course that bastard was nowhere to be found. Fine, I’d use… “Finn?”
“Yes?” I sensed overtures of surprise layered with his response. And something darker, as if he was angry or frustrated by something.
“Am I going to piss off Griff if I offend this person?” It wouldn’t necessarily stop me, but I did want to know.
He looked over. Understanding, a bit of anger, and a lot of tipsy amusement colored his next response. “Nope. Have fun.”
Thank Erde. I wasn’t tall by any means, but I towered over her, and I used that to my advantage as I looked down at her hand with a pointed expression. For the first time all evening, I knew what to do. Let’s see how she liked playing with someone who refused to back down.
“Remove your hand.”
She babbled on, ignoring me as she went on and on about how she’d had Griff first and would again. “We have such a history together. I know all of his preferences—”
“I said”—I gritted my teeth, my voice dropping to a growl that would have made Cormac proud—“remove your fucking hand.”
Her eyes widened slightly but that bright-red mouth curved into a vicious smile. “Such language coming from a princess. I suppose they really did find you in a gutter.”
I exhaled heavily, barely keeping a grip on my temper. “And I suppose they scraped you off a tavern floor, but here we both are.”
Her grip on my wrist tightened, nails digging in, and I swallowed the bite of pain that came with it. “You truly have no idea who you’re dealing with,” she hissed. “Griffin and I have a connection you couldn’t possibly comprehend. And once he’s bored with you, he’ll be back in my bed—”
I didn’t let her see how her words affected me. “Are you really that desperate that you have to insult me? And I’m tired of asking you. Remove your hand. Now.”
“Desperate?” she screeched. “Desperate? I’ll have you know—”
I was done.
I caused the temperature on her ornate gold bracelet to rise, just enough to get her notice.
She gasped and withdrew her hand. As the bracelet slid along her wrist, it revealed an angry red patch surrounding her skin.
Whoops, maybe I had gone slightly overboard.
Oh well, it wouldn’t blister and probably would fade by morning.
Or the next day. I felt a savage sense of satisfaction, watching her whimper and cradle her wrist.
I spun on my heel, leaving her gaping like a fish and probably already starting to discuss how rudely the new princess had treated her. Good. Let her talk. At least now she knew exactly who she was dealing with.
Finn met me with a new glass of the bubbly drink and I downed it. “What is this stuff?”
“It’s called champagne. Take it easy—it can sneak up on you.”
I gave him an arch look and exchanged my empty glass for his full one, but sipped it.
“I see you met Aine. Odious woman.”
I giggled into my drink but then asked the question I really wanted to know. “Did Griff really sleep with her?”
“She told you that? That’s a bit bold, even for her.”
I made a face. “She went on and on about how she had him first. I assume they aren’t together now?” I think I kept my voice steady as I asked that question.
Finn snorted. “Certainly not. He hates her.”
“Then why would he sleep with her?” The question burst out before I could think better of it. I was surprised at how desperate I sounded. Like the answer mattered. Like I was still comparing myself to her and not finding myself winning.
“It was years ago. And, well, he was drunk.” Finn shrugged as if that explained it. Maybe it did. Although Griff and drunk were not two words I expected in the same sentence. “And in his defense, she didn’t show her true colors until afterward.”
But what did he see in her to begin with? There certainly weren’t any physical similarities between us. And if she was his type…
“I can’t believe it.” Except I could believe it—and that was the problem. The picture of the two of them together was now seared into my mind. Her perfect curves pressed against his strong body, her golden hair spread over his naked chest. I wanted to punch that perfect face.
“Yeah, well, he was drunk,” he said again, taking his drink back from me. “Happens to the best of us.”
“Did you sleep with her too?” I asked incredulously.
He choked on the champagne. “Voda’s tits, no! What do you take me for, an idiot?”
I tensed as I felt Griff’s presence behind me before he spoke. Of course he approached while I was interrogating his brother about his sexual conquests with a perfect blonde goddess, as if I had some sort of right to know these answers. But I didn’t. I had no claim on him at all.
“What are you talking about?” His voice was neutral, but edged with wariness. I wanted to demand answers from him of what he saw in her. But I didn’t turn around, just stared into my empty champagne glass as if I could climb into it.
“Lexa got to meet Aine.”
Great. Thanks, Finn.
Griff gave an audible groan and rubbed his hand over his eyes before running it through his sandy waves. “Gods help me. That was ages ago.” The resignation in his voice should have raised my spirits. But drunk or not, he had chosen her.
“Exactly how much did you have to drink that night?” I asked suspiciously.
“Plenty.”
Finn was openly grinning at his brother’s discomfort.
Griff continued, “And if you are going to ask me these questions, I’m going to need a drink tonight.” Something flickered in his eyes, and the fact that I couldn’t tell what emotion it was made everything worse. Could it be regret? Embarrassment? This was going to drive me mad.
“Thanks, brother, me too.” Finn clapped him on the back. “Lexie?” I nodded my assent as Finn shoved Griff in the direction of the bar. Griff groaned, but walked off.
I watched him walk away; the cut of his coat really was magnificent.
I knew his shoulders were broad, but something about the formal lines truly highlighted them.
I sighed internally. I knew what I had seen in his eyes.
Knew what I’d felt while he held me and danced with me.
But was Aine really the type of woman he was attracted to?
And how could I get these thoughts out of my head?
“So, Lexie, you’ve almost survived your first High Day ball. What do you think?”
What did I think? “Parts of it have been fun,” I answered tentatively.
“That dance was certainly something.”
I really hoped I wasn’t blushing. Something was a word for it. I had never felt like that before. And very much wanted to again.
Griff returned and silently handed me a glass of champagne, balancing two other full glasses in his other hand.