Chapter Seven
M ax and I arrived at the party late, mainly because I refused to come out of the bedroom after seeing the dress he’d picked out for me.
“You’re begging to be smacked, Max Dread. Get that damn smirk off your face.”
From where I stood in front of the full-length mirror, I couldn’t see him. I just assumed.
He feigned innocence from the living room. “What? I thought you’d like the dress.”
“You did not think I’d like this.” I stormed out of the bedroom, putting a hand on my hip while the other waved over my outfit. “ This is all for you.”
An appreciative noise rumbled in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Yeah, it is.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he traced the cutouts on my dress with his eyes.
That took a hot minute since they were literally everywhere.
The glittery dress was essentially see-through with a fitted bodice, cinched waist, and sweetheart neckline. The gorgeous detailing provided coverage in the form of strategically placed accents over my tits, crotch, and ass.
Thank god for that.
Glittery silver straps capped my shoulders, crossing down over my breasts before slowly fading to a mix of silver and gold shimmer. The rest of the skirt was see-through gold as well. Ending just a few inches above my knee, the dangerously high slit and sheer hemline meant it barely qualified as coverage.
If I danced like I had at the last party, I’d give everyone a close-up view of my goddamn cunt.
The only reason I hadn’t thrown the damn thing out of the bedroom window?
It was sexy as fuck.
And if I wanted anyone at that party to rue the day they met me, this dress guaranteed it.
Dangling silver earrings brushed my shoulders, and I’d secured my hair in a sleek high ponytail. The matching shoes probably cost a month’s worth of rent. I wouldn’t even ask for the price tag on the dress.
But at Max’s expression, it was worth its weight in gold.
He took in my ensemble with painstaking slowness, warming my body under his heated gaze. And when he reached the top of the slit at my thigh and wet his lips, my traitorous brain imagined what it would feel like if he traced that path with his touch.
Or his tongue.
And went even farther.
That thought ignited my arousal, a fire my body tried to douse by pooling moisture between my thighs. And the scrap of lace masquerading as my thong did its best, but no pair of panties could be expected to work in these conditions.
I shifted my legs, longing for friction. Not to mention the release I refused to let myself have.
Max’s eyes shot to mine at the movement.
His nostrils flared. My lips parted.
And instead of retreating to the room like I should have, I stood transfixed as he approached me. Stalking over like a lion ready to pounce. Holding me in place with his gaze.
And leaving me breathless as I returned the favor to take in every inch of him.
His tailored black pants and fitted white shirt had been paired with a gold and silver tie. It hung loosely around his neck. And most noticeably, it matched my outfit.
He stepped in front of me, as gorgeously cavalier as the night we met. “You think you’re ready for this?”
The corner of his mouth, lifting into a slightly nervous half-smile, weakened my knees.
“I have to be, don’t I?”
We echoed lines exchanged when we first met and both referenced the party tonight, but I couldn’t help thinking we meant something else entirely.
Would I ever be ready for Max Dread?
With the heat between us, it almost felt like an inevitability. Undeniable. Like, if we’d met in the real world, and the rules of The Quest hadn’t been between us, we would’ve given in already. Maybe when the challenge wasn’t between us, I’d have to be ready. I…
Maybe I wanted to be.
I ran the silk necktie through my fingers, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Vivian’s going to be so pissed when she sees us matching.”
He smirked, entirely too pleased with himself. “She’s not the only one.”
“Never took you for a petty one, Max Dread.”
“Sure you did.”
I laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I totally did.”
As I smoothed his tie down with my palm, his heart thundered in his chest. His muscles flexed under the soft graze of my hand, and he cleared his throat.
“For the finishing touch…” He grabbed two masks off the coffee table, slipping the delicate gold mask inlaid with silver accents over my face. Leading the strings to the back of my head, he swept my hair out of the way while I held it in place.
Once he secured it, he smoothed my ponytail back down, brushing his fingers against the skin at the nape of my neck.
I shivered.
Relief rushed through me when he didn’t linger or comment on my body’s reaction, and I took a deep breath as he fit the larger black and gold half-mask over the right side of his face. He stepped back so I could appraise him.
And he knew damn well he looked good.
Better than good. Like he’d just walked off the stage of The Phantom of the Opera, good.
Except, his darker version of the antagonist, Erik, increased the temperature in the room by a few degrees, spiking higher when he offered me his arm.
“Let’s do this.”
I slid my hand through and let him lead me outside. As if he’d willed it into existence, a black SUV pulled up in front of us when we reached the end of the driveway.
Max opened my car door, helping me into my seat and tucking me safely inside. As he walked around the back, a heavy breath escaped me.
I hadn’t expected Max to have this kind of effect on me. Suddenly, the thought of dancing with him at this party, even if it served my other goals, felt risky. I wouldn’t let it impact my progress through The Quest, but that wasn’t the problem…
The risk of feeling— wanting more from him than one passionate moment in a secluded cabin—I hadn’t seen it coming.
And, since catching feels had gone just so fucking well for me in the past, I needed to keep my head straight, or get a lobotomy, before I even considered going there again.
Especially with another Knight from Camelot Court.
As far as I was concerned, more was a restricted area. A tunnel leading to a dark place with no way out. Barricaded with a barbed wire fence. Blocked off with hazard lights and flashing neon signs, it had all the warnings my brain could conjure to keep me away.
But still, the temptation remained. Seeing his softer side brought it out. That spark. That flicker of possibility.
No matter how hard I fought to keep it at bay.
When Max settled into the seat beside me, his dark eyes lingered on my crossed legs before trailing up to my face.
“For what it’s worth, Quinn Everly.” He flashed another half-smile that made my heart race. “You’re way too fucking beautiful for any of the stupid pricks at this party tonight.”
My cheeks warmed, and I couldn’t help but tease him. “Oh, yeah? All of them but you?”
He laughed, leaning back in his seat, all dark and gorgeous in that devil-may-care way of his.
“Especially me.”
Onyx eyes met mine, and his next words drew me in so much more than I wanted to admit.
“But I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance, anyway.”
* * *
I wanted to leave the second we walked through the doors, but I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, my grip tightening around Max’s arm. His eyes never strayed from the party, but he hadn’t moved to join it.
“You good?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, ready to step forward. Until my eyes zeroed in on Landon and Elaine across the dance floor, and I froze. She rested her hand on his arm, staring up at him with a hopeful expression I couldn’t stomach.
Quickly looking away, I met Max’s gaze. “I’m good.”
He nodded and led me into the room.
Passing couples as we circled toward the bar, most of the Maidens had found their Knights from the first challenge.
Aside from Elaine, who had apparently been superglued to my— Landon’s side, only Max and I stayed together instead of going our separate ways.
The only other outlier was Vivian, who stood alone in the back corner of the room. Her icy blue gaze narrowed on me, and just to be petty as fuck, I smirked and brushed my hand down Max’s arm.
Whispers and stares followed us as Max guided me to the bar. The pledge in charge of serving the upperclassmen quickly poured two tumblers of dark amber liquid and set them in front of us. Max didn’t even have to give an order.
Honeyed-brown whiskey swirled in the crystal. Max slid one healthy pour over to me, picking up his and tossing it back. I lifted mine, my eyes locked on the color as I waited for the liquid to settle in the glass.
It trembled in my grip.
Until Max’s hand wrapped around mine. “Down the hatch, Princess. It’s easier that way.”
I swallowed the whiskey, letting it burn down my throat and warm my belly. Once the dark amber hue was out of sight, Max was right. It did feel easier.
He tapped the bar for another round, but I waved it off. “None for me. I have a better idea for getting through this.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Time to dance.”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, no.”
“What?” I whipped around to face him, hands on my hips and prepared to give my best impression of the surly bastard’s voice. “What do you mean, yeah, no ?”
“I don’t dance.”
“Excuse me?” I cupped my hand behind my ear, as if I hadn’t heard him correctly. “What do you mean you don’t dance ?”
He pursed his lips at my excellent impersonation of him. “I mean, I don’t dance. I’m like that town in Footloose . No dancing. It’s strictly forbidden. Against the rules or whatever.”
“Whose rules?” I arched my brow.
“Mine. It’s rule one on my list for surviving this bullshit.”
“Oh.” I frowned, but then I grabbed his hand. “Good. That means you can make an exception.”
I tugged him toward the dance floor, and it surprised no one when he didn’t budge. I was scrappy, but the guy was massive. And stubborn as fuck. I would’ve had better luck trying to uproot a tree.
He squeezed my hand, but didn’t let it go. “No exceptions, Princess. I dance with you now, and next thing I know, I’m stuck twirling around girls at every Camelot Court function until I cut off my legs to get out of it.”
“Dramatic.” I snorted, but when he still didn’t budge, I rolled my eyes. “What? That might get in the way of all the blow jobs in coat closets you could be getting instead?”
I expected him to ask if that was an offer.
Instead, his jaw clenched, and he let go of my hand. “Who the fuck told you that?”
Hackles rising at his response, I narrowed my eyes on his scowl. “Why? Because it’s a lie or because it interferes with this act you’re putting on to try and seduce me?”
His teeth ground together like an axe on a sharpening stone, and I had a momentary flash of concern for his molars.
But he quickly and effectively ruined that.
“Think whatever the fuck you want.”
He walked away without another word, leaving me gaping at his back. My indignation rose higher as he made his way across the room, landing in the last place I expected.
The last place he should’ve gone if his goal was to charm me with his bullshit act and eliminate me.
Because when he walked up to Vivian and led her from the room, it wiped away every good thought I’d had about him over the past two days.
Fucking volatile, infuriating brute.
I spun back to the bar, once again, fuming after an interaction with Max Dread and pissed off by how much it bothered me. I’d sworn the first time Max walked off that I wasn’t going to care.
Even worse, I’d specifically vowed that I refused to care.
Before what happened with Landon.
Two days of slightly good behavior and I forgot all that?
What the fuck was wrong with me?
I seethed over my stupid, useless heart and its utter disregard for self-preservation. My inability to stay guarded let Max get under my skin.
A Dark Knight with a soft side?
That didn’t exist. Not in the real world.
Maybe not at all.
Redirecting my glare across the room, I hoped the sight of Landon and Elaine might drive home the message to my easily swayed heart.
But I got no satisfaction from what I saw.
Even if it did prove my point.
The sight of Landon’s face, inches away from Elaine’s, hit me like a punch to the gut.
I forced myself to look away, and I glowered at the couple waiting in line ahead of me, even though they’d done nothing wrong. I barely knew them.
Although, I could probably describe the Knight’s abs in detail thanks to Gia, and I remembered the Maiden from the gossip Elaine had shared on our first night.
Izzy Gold’s straw-blonde hair hung in curls down her back, her pale complexion flushed and green eyes lost in the guy beside her. Tristan Léon wore a similar lovestruck expression. Their entwined hands twisted my heart in an equally tight grip.
Pressure weighed on my chest at the reminder.
Less than a week ago, I’d held onto Landon’s hand the same way. Like he might not let go.
Because I was seriously a glutton for punishment, I flicked my eyes across the room again.
To my relief, Landon stood alone.
His eyes searched the crowd, and they zeroed in on someone across the room. Landon frowned, following their path with his gaze and drawing closer to where I stood.
It didn’t take long to find out why.
A trill of electricity raced down my arm as Kingston stepped up beside me. His royal blue suit brought out the color of his eyes, and I quickly averted my gaze.
He greeted me cordially while he smiled at people around the room. “Miss Everly.”
“Lying bastard,” I muttered, making sure he heard me.
“I deserved that.”
“Oh, you think?” I whipped my head to the right, glaring at him and all his fucking audacity. My pent-up rage came out in a whispered hiss when I really wanted to scream. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than that.”
He cleared his throat and shook his head before quickly schooling his features again.
What the hell?
Tristan, having heard my outraged reply, turned around and greeted us. Kingston straightened the knot on his gold-and-blue paisley tie, and responded as if nothing had happened.
As if I hadn’t just insulted him and told him off.
And as if he hadn’t just made it clear he was acting in front of everyone around us.
When Izzy offered me a warm hello, I blinked past my confusion, suspicion and thorough distraction to force a smile.
“Hi, Izzy.”
She lifted her bunny-eared mask off her face, and relief rushed through me. Holding a conversation with the pointed reminder of my nickname for Landon staring me in the face felt nearly impossible.
Especially with the enigma known as Kingston beside me.
“How are you, Quinn? I heard about...” She worried her red lower lip, hesitance in her emerald-green eyes. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. It wasn’t right what those girls did. I hope you know we’re not all like that.”
“You mean you don’t waterboard people minding their own business in the middle of the night?”
“Not unless they really piss me off. But that’s for things like chewing too loudly. Talking with their mouths full.” She ran a hand over the long sleeve of her black velvet dress, feigning a full-body shudder. “ Snoring .”
“Ah.” I clicked my tongue. “Just the really egregious behavior, then. I can respect that.”
She smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “See. You get it. But seriously, are you alright?” She shook her head, and her cheeks flushed. “That’s a stupid question. I just—I’m sure making girl friends isn’t high on your list of priorities, but if you need one…”
I shuffled my feet, appreciating the gesture but nowhere near ready to trust another Maiden. “Thanks. I?—”
“Can’t imagine trusting anyone here with a ten-foot pole?”
“I think that applies to touching…But I can’t imagine doing that, either. So, yeah. That’s where I’m at.”
She shrugged. “Believe it or not, I know the feeling. But the offer stands if you change your mind.”
“Maybe when these scratches heal.” I gestured to my cheek, and she stifled her wince to nod seriously.
“Good call. I hear reinjury leads to scarring.”
“Exactly.” I fought a grin. “And sometimes I chew loudly.”
“Well, I could be a pal and go for the other cheek, if needed.”
She smirked, and I laughed unexpectedly, surprising myself and the guys beside us.
Continuing the bit, I bowed my head to her. “I won’t forget your kindness, Izzy. And maybe someday soon we can learn to trust with shorter poles together.”
Her smile beamed. “I’d like that.”
Tristan put his hand on her arm. “Izzy, Kingston wanted to know if you’d save him a dance before the end of the night.”
Izzy’s mouth opened in surprise, and I narrowed my eyes on Kingston’s face—which, of course, gave nothing away—before looking back at Izzy.
She seemed genuinely touched by his offer. “Of course I will, Kingston. I didn’t realize you were bringing that tradition back when we danced at the first party.”
“Tradition?”
The three of them turned to me, and Kingston explained. “The Quest has many traditions that have…fallen by the wayside, Miss Everly. One of which is that a Maiden must accept when the King requests a dance.”
I scoffed. “Oh, that’s right. How could I forget.”
“Yes, I must admit your mention of such traditions at the Maiden Appeal sparked my curiosity. I examined the by-laws myself and stumbled upon that old tradition. I thought it might be a nice way to get to know each of the Maidens.”
“Sorry about your luck, Izzy,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
But something she’d said nagged in the back of my brain as I thought over what Kingston explained. Before I nailed down what it was, or escaped, Kingston interrupted my thoughts.
“Miss Everly, I’d also like to request a dance with you.”
My head snapped in his direction, and a hint of a smile lifted the corner of Kingston’s lips.
Tristan laughed at the flabbergasted look on my face. “Don’t worry, Quinn.”
He touched my arm gently, withdrawing it when my body tensed and Izzy tightened her grip on his. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and offered me a hesitant smile.
“It’s just one song. He can lead you through the steps if you don’t know them. Kingston, you’re asking all the Maidens?”
Kingston clasped his hands behind his back and nodded.
Before I could respond to his request, the bartender alerted Tristan that it was his turn to order.
Izzy’s eyebrows lifted as she looked from Kingston to me. “Enjoy your night, Quinn...I’ll be on the sidelines if you want to spectate any of the other dances.” When that drew a reluctant grin out of me, Izzy smiled. “I’ll see you around.”
“You, too.”
As soon as they turned around, that tingling rush of energy returned. It zipped up my arm as Kingston slipped a piece of paper into my palm before quickly pulling his hand away.
He dipped his head slightly, the barest hint of his accent slipping into his voice. “Miss Everly.”
And then, he was gone.
Discreetly unfolding the slip of paper, I read his small, but somehow-still-elegant scrawl.
Emotion lodged in my throat.
Swallowing it down painfully, I forced back the tears that pricked my eyes. My stubborn pride refused to let his words affect me. Refused to fall for it again.
But the words he’d written played on a loop in my head for the rest of the night.
Even though, in true Kingston fashion, the note clarified exactly nothing, it offered what I’d needed. What I never would’ve asked for and, under threat of death, would’ve refused to admit changed how I felt. It left a fierce need for answers where there’d been mostly anger instead.
It offered hope.
That fucking bastard.