Chapter 55 Dance Without Music #2
“Shut up and cut the cake.” I wiped a stray tear from my face and kissed Kaz, my lips lingering on his. When I pulled back, I held his gaze. “I love it—thank you.”
He smiled and took my hand to look at the ring on it. “I enchanted it myself. No chance of anyone else tampering with it or causing accidental explosions.” He said the last with a pointed glare at Griffin, who was oblivious as he whooped at the way the icing sparkled when the cake was cut.
Kaz leaned in to whisper seductively in my ear. “And you’ll have another birthday present coming later. I hope you’ll love it just as much.”
I whispered back. “Is your ring telling you how I feel about that?”
His lips brushed my ear. “The ring’s telling me you’re already imagining it.”
More heat bloomed across my cheeks as my own ring pulsed warm against my finger.
The cake was, as promised, magical. The first bite tasted like the honey cakes our cook used to make, before my mother died—they reminded me a bit too strongly of Sebastian, but I let it slide.
The second layer was pure nostalgia—the strawberry tarts from the summer festival, when I was a child and still believed in happy endings. The final layer…
“Spiced pear and…” I looked at Sebastian in surprise. “Mulled wine?”
He grinned. “Lord Blackrose suggested the flavor, but he wouldn’t say why. Just insisted it had to be this one.” His eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I assume there’s a story?”
I glanced at my husband, who was very deliberately studying his wineglass. Heat crept up my neck as I remembered that night—the kitchen, the blankets, his confession that he had no interest in trifles because he was “sufficiently occupied with one infuriating woman.”
“There might be,” I said softly.
Kazimir leaned close, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “It was one of the first times I knew I was falling for you.”
My breath caught. The memory sharpened—his hands braced on either side of me on the counter, the possessive heat in his eyes when he’d said, “What’s mine stays mine,” the way he’d left me alone in his bed rather than push for more.
“You left that night,” I whispered back. “Walked away.”
“Gods knew I wanted to stay.” His fingers found mine under the table. “And that terrified me.”
The ring on my finger pulsed warm, echoing the heat spreading through my chest.
Around us, I became dimly aware of the others pointedly not listening.
Griffin had launched into an enthusiastic explanation of his latest explosive compound to Thorne, who was nodding with the patience of a man who’d heard this speech before.
Vex was trying to coax her hairpin away from Nyx, who was growling.
Sebastian had suddenly become very interested in making the sugar flowers on the cake bloom and wither in increasingly complex patterns.
“It’s perfect,” I said in a voice everyone could hear. “All of it. Thank you.”
We were debating whether Griffin should be allowed to demonstrate his “completely safe” indoor fireworks when a knock interrupted. One of the servants entered, looking apologetic.
“Forgive the interruption, but Lord Sebastian has an urgent message.”
Sebastian frowned, taking the sealed paper. His face went pale as he read. “I need to go. My contact in Solandris—” He looked up at us, clearly torn. “I’m sorry. This can’t wait.”
“Go,” I said. “We’ll save you some cake.”
“Happy birthday, Arabella. Try not to save the world for at least another hour.” He squeezed my shoulder as he passed. Kaz scowled, and Sebastian snatched back his hand as if he was afraid to lose it. Apparently, my husband’s limits were still in place despite the warm atmosphere.
After he left, the mood shifted. Griffin yawned dramatically. “Well, I should probably check on my familiars. Make sure Nyx hasn’t eaten any more of them.”
The dragon gave him an innocent look that fooled no one.
“And I need to patrol,” Thorne added, though I noticed him pocket an extra slice of cake first.
Vex was smiling contentedly. “I suppose I should make sure Lord Torok hasn’t challenged any more children to combat. I threatened him with the actual dungeon, and he said he’d behave.” She stood. “Though I don’t quite trust these hero types.”
They filed out, each pausing to wish me happy birthday again.
Nyx lingered, her silver eyes moving between Kazimir and me with an intelligence that was sometimes unsettling.
Then she too padded toward the small side door, somehow managing to squeeze her large frame through without breaking it.
The pink bow, I noticed, had mysteriously vanished.
And then it was just Kaz and me, alone in the Great Hall with the remains of my surprise party.
“You knew,” I said. “This whole time, you knew it was my birthday and didn’t say anything.”
“Vex was very specific about the dismemberment.” He poured himself another glass of wine. “Besides, you needed a moment of normalcy.”
“Nothing about our life is normal.”
He smirked. “But that’s what makes it fun.”
I studied him in the candlelight. The sharp angles of his face, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead—it was longer than ever.
“Dance with me,” I said suddenly.
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no music.”
“So?” I stood, holding out my hand. “It’s my birthday. I want to dance with my husband.”
He took my hand and stood, pulling me close. We swayed in the empty hall, no music but the sound of our breathing and the distant chaos of our overcrowded citadel. His hand was warm on my waist, his other holding mine like something precious.
“I need to tell you something,” he said quietly.
My heart stuttered. Was this it? Was he finally going to share about the Shadow King? I hoped he would, and also hoped he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to confront that tonight.
“I’m terrible at birthdays,” he continued. I let out a relieved breath. “Never celebrated my own, never understood the point. But seeing you tonight—” He spun me gently, then pulled me back. My breasts brushed against the hard muscles of his chest. “Maybe I understand a little better.”
“Oh?” I looked up at him. “And what do you understand?”
“That it’s not just about marking another year survived.” His voice dropped. “It’s about having people who care that you survived it.”
The words hit deeper than he probably intended.
I thought of the years after my mother’s death, when the date passed unmarked and unmourned except for whatever meager gift my lady’s maid Agnes could smuggle to me in the tower.
After my kidnapping, my father had dismissed her—as if she’d been the one to fail him.
But Vex’s recent inquiries had turned up something better: Agnes had found employment with a gentler household, helping two young girls who probably adored her.
I’d sent her a note, just to let her know she wasn’t forgotten and all was well.
The warmth of Kazimir’s palm against my lower back pulled me back to the present—to this man who’d become my everything. I leaned into him, drawing on the power radiating from his frame even while he was dancing.
“Kaz—”
“You have people now,” he said firmly, as if he’d known where my mind had wandered. “A family, dysfunctional as it is. Griffin might blow things up and Thorne communicates primarily in grunts, but they’re yours. We’re yours.”
“And I’m yours,” I said softly.
His expression shifted. “I know.”
The moment stretched between us. Then I rose on my toes and kissed him, tasting mulled wine and spiced pear.
When we broke apart, I took his hand, feeling that his ring was as warm as mine. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To our chambers.” I pulled him toward the door. “You promised me another present.”