Chapter 38
“Don’t mind me cutting in. Her next dance is mine.
” Dion’s words were accompanied by a more than vicious growl, a clear indication of how frayed his patience was.
One of his giant hands splayed possessively over my waist, the other one on my shoulder held so tight as if he were afraid I would be snatched from his grip at any given moment.
Through our close contact, I could sense every twitching muscle and every agitated vibration under his skin.
And yes, the fae prince in his entirety was an enormous warning sign, but one I wouldn’t heed.
The whole night, he had been merry with a female so beautiful that it hurt every fiber of my soul, and just as I’d stepped out of misery, he’d swooped down on me like an overprotective chaperon.
This wouldn’t work, no matter how annoyed he was.
“Whenever I spotted you, you were pretty content dancing with the belle of the ball, and I was fed up sitting at the pariah’s table in the loser’s corner.
Especially after someone had taken pity on me, so I could have at least five minutes of fun.
” Turning my head, I searched for Cantarlann in the crowd and mouthed a silent apology to him.
He wouldn’t blame me for Dion’s territorial behavior, would he? To my relief, his lips morphed into a bright smile before he rolled his eyes at the fae prince. A giggle tumbled from the tip of my tongue before I could swallow the sound, and the hands on my body tightened even more.
“Eyes on me, godsdammit.” Dion’s snarl was as dark as his hair and as vicious as his grandfather, but if he thought he could frighten me into submission, he was wrong.
Out of principle, I took my sweet time before turning my attention back to him, as if his descent into something darker by the second didn’t faze me at all.
“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” As I dragged my gaze back to him, I injected a healthy dose of saccharine poison into my voice and hoped he’d understand my message.
No matter how tragic his life was here at the High Court, I wouldn’t allow him to control my every breath, not when his orders had nothing to do with my safety, but only with him being a possessive bastard with double standards who could flirt with his lover to his heart’s content.
This wasn’t jealousy. I was simply annoyed at being treated as someone who didn’t even deserve the most basic respect.
Definitely not jealousy.
“Did you have fun dancing? Your girlfriend is stunning.” Vitriol laced my voice, and when Dion bared his teeth—not at me, but at Cantarlann, then at Danartha—I knew I’d struck a nerve.
“She’s not my girlfriend, godsdammit. Never was and never will.” Dion’s face had contorted into a feral mask, his pupils only a thin line, and his upper lip pulled over his canines. His head snapped around once more, and his predatory stare pierced Cantarlann again.
I should de-escalate the unraveling fae prince, but I was too fractured myself to coax him back to reason just yet. “And if you can dance with your not-girlfriend, why can’t I have fun as well?”
“I loathe how that shrewd male leered at you. Still does. As if he plans to swallow you whole and never spit you out again. And the way his scent clings to you makes me want to murder him in the most painful way I can imagine.”
Dion’s nostrils flared, and how close he was to losing his composure was clearly written all over him.
And even though it should have been impossible, his behavior got worse.
As we swayed over the dance floor, he showed his teeth to a male pivoting too close to us and snapped at another so hard that the sound penetrated the air. I didn’t even have an idea what his sin had been—maybe he’d brushed against my shadow?
What were we doing?
The green curtain veiling my sanity slowly lifted, and I became vaguely aware that Galrach was examining us intently. If we didn’t get a grip on ourselves and fast, we would likely steer into a complete catastrophe.
Again, I had to be the voice of reason. Forcing my expression into something softer, I sighed. “Dion. We have to calm down. Your grandfather is watching our every move.”
“Fuck him.”
“Your temper…please rein yourself in.”
“You know what? I'm calling in our bargain. We’re going to have our talk.”
“Which talk?”
“The one you promised me in Amalach.”
“You’ll get your conversation as soon as it’s safe.” Maybe in the far future.
“No Nayana, I’m done waiting. You can’t evade me forever.”
“Alright. When?”
“Now.”
“Now? Are you out of your mind? Just in case you’ve forgotten. We’re in the middle of the dance floor among a battalion of hateful fae racists. And under your dangerous grandfather’s watchful eyes, might I add? Also, you’re acting like a half-crazed feral beast.”
Instead of dignifying me with a reply, Dion changed his step pattern.
We’d swayed on the spot before, but he altered our course and steered me to the left, dodging other couples with ease.
Determination had settled onto his brows, and no matter how hard I tried to dance in the opposite direction, he hauled me with him.
His arms were unyielding like steel, and so was the expression in his eyes.
Nerves exploded in my stomach, a premonition hitting my soul.
Tensing my muscles in a last desperate effort to escape, I fought against my living restraints, but Dion was relentless.
In the end, that he didn’t throw me over his shoulder bordered on a miracle.
Still, he was whisking me off to whatever place he had in mind.
He held me so tight that my face was smashed into his chest, his scent of pure masculinity, of rain, shadows, and forest, dizzying my senses.
He was a male on a mission, and I’d rarely experienced such a powerful urge to flee from a situation.
Nothing good could happen on a night like this, one that had already started on the worst possible note.
But I didn’t have a choice.
A crisp aroma mingling with the pine and petrichor filled my nostrils, and only when the air became colder and we’d somehow stepped outside did I realize how irritating the sweet oppression of plentiful perfumes inside had been.
And despite my rising panic, breathing him in settled some of the broken shards in my soul.
Dion’s grip relaxed a fraction, and I lifted my head, noticing he’d brought us onto a small balcony overlooking lush emerald fields.
To my surprise, the living shackles around me eased, and I advanced to the railing, gripping the cool stone until my knuckles turned white.
The night sky in Galanta was pure poetry; there wasn’t any better way to describe the spectacle.
A myriad of stars sparkled in the endless plane, the moon full and glowing like a fae’s eye, and stripes of turquoise, pink, purple, and green danced over the dark canvas.
Transfixed, I stared at the shimmering display, forgetting why he’d brought me outside in the first place.
Silk rustled as Dion appeared beside me, and the thorns piercing my heart, which had been pacified by the beautiful sight, reminded me of their presence once more.
“Have you ever seen an aurora before?”
Dion’s voice was gentle, so different from the angry snarls and harsh edges from minutes ago, and I swallowed around the lump stuck in my throat.
“No, never. I read about the phenomenon but dismissed the description as fantasy. Although I’m glad that this view isn’t pure imagination.
This might be the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life. ”
“Yes, there’s nothing more stunning in both worlds, nor will there ever be.”
Reverent notes layered in the prince’s cadence, so full of emotion.
I turned my gaze to him, and all my movement ceased in an instant.
He wasn’t viewing the aurora—no, he had his eyes locked on me, head slightly canted, his expression unguarded like nothing I’d ever witnessed in him before.
My breath caught, my lungs refused to cooperate as my cheeks filled with blood at his implication.
His hand reached out, and before I could dodge, he feathered a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, ghosting the pads of his fingers along my skin, leaving fire in their wake. He traced the blush on my face, and once again, I was trapped in his snare.
The moment broke as I reminded myself of where we were, who we were. We stood way too close, way too intimate, and if someone spied on us, our whole cover would be blown.
Opening my mouth to protest about our precarious location, I closed my lips again as Dion came to the same conclusion as me—and engulfed us and the balcony in a bubble of absolute darkness. Damn.
Dropping his hand, resolution settled into his amethyst gaze.
“To answer your earlier question. Yes, Nayana. Now. I spent an hour of my life discussing with an entitled female why she has to leave me the fuck alone. And instead of concentrating on getting my point across, all I could see was how everyone stared at you, plotting to steal you away.”
“Cantarlann isn’t planning to kidnap me. We shared one dance, princeling. One measly dance on the first ball of my life.” My argument sounded weak, too tinted with the relief of how good his explanation had been about why he’d danced so long with Danartha.
“You flirted with him, winked, and beamed. That male is worse than Thain.”
“Given they share a common background, and with Thain growing up around Cantarlann, I’m not surprised.”
Apprehension dominated the imposing sight of the fae prince. He wrung his hands and shook his head, as if to dislodge something unpleasant from his mind. “You have to stop dropping names of other males. I’m on the edge of what I can endure, Nayana.”