Chapter 36
Chapter 36
“Sorin p>
My stomach caves in on itself.
“What-“The word slips out before I can stop it. My own damn name tastes like iron on my tongue. Does he p>
Alaric’s gaze sharpens, but then he blinks, slow and dreadful for whatever my heart is doing right now.
Does he know? Does he really? But IO made sure I’m covered in the ointment and everything I wore is different from earlier!
“That’s her name,” he says, voice low enough that only I can hear. “The woman I’m looking for p>
Well shit. You should have started with that.
I force a shaky laugh, relief spilling down my spine like a cracked bottle of wine. “Good to know, ” I murmur, biting the inside of my cheek before I accidentally say Yeah, I know. I’m her.
All of a sudden, a crash detonates behind us.
The music screeches to a stop. Glass rains across marble–high, sharp notes that slice the hush.
Every head swivels.
Camila Pierce stands at the long banquet table, chest heaving, red gown glittering under the chandeliers. The entire crystal tower of champagne flutes lies in shards around her stilettos. Her eyes are locked on me, dark and murderous.
Great. My favorite psycho.
Alaric doesn’t even twitch. One tiny nod from him and the string quartet scrambles back into motion. Conversation rises again, hesitant at first, then full. Like nothing happened.
He really doesn’t give a single damn.
I keep my face blank and my feet moving, letting him guide me back into the slow rhythm. His palm settles on the small of my back–hot, possessive, sending a low thrum straight through me.
Across the hall Camila’s glare burns holes in my mask.
A waiter hustles past with a silver tray of shots, his eyes wide from the commotion. Without breaking step, I snag a glass, toss it back, and set the empty down with a soft clink. The tequila scorches my throat, blessed distraction from the man breathing against my ear.
“You’re awfully calm for someone under attack,” Alaric murmurs.
I swallow the burn. “I’ve had worse p>
His mouth curves, wicked. “I bet you have p>
The
way
he says it–it’s not a compliment. It’s a memory he doesn’t even know he owns.
I glance over his shoulder. People are staring and I don’t know if it s‘ this stupid dress I picked up earlier while I tried changing or they really are looking at Alaric to which I wouldn’t really be shocked at. “They’re all looking at you Im needing the focus anywhere but the heat of his body against mine.
He leans in until his lips brush the edge of my mask. “Trust me,” he whispers, voice rough velvet, “they’re all looking at you.
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Chapter 36
My pulse kicks hard. Damn this man.
He spins me in a tight circle, hand firm at my waist, the scent of cedar and smoke wrapping around us. His amber eyes the chandelier light, molten gold. “She used to dance like this,” he says, almost to himself, “Sorin p>
My breath stalls.
“She’d fight me for the lead,” he continues, a faint smile ghosting his mouth. “Always pretending she didn’t like being watched p>
s catch
I choke on a laugh. I remember everything. He’d fucking set everything up for me to not have a choice but to accept him as a dance partner. The guy’s a King for fuck’s sake. “Sounds like a handful p>
my hip, sending a shock straight up my spine. Shi
“The best kind.” His thumb strokes just above the curve his hands going?
“Once, I sent her a golden statue of myself. Life–sized p>
My eyebrows shoot up behind the mask as if I’m shocked. Yeah, you did. I remember every disgusting detail of it, asshole. “You didn’t p>
“Oh, I did,” he says, grin widening. “I had it delivered it to her packhouse door. Just to see her lose that perfect composure. I wanted her to come storming in and curse me out p>
I remember that day. Gods, I’d wanted
to
melt that damn
status
down and pour it over his smug head.
“She never showed,” he adds, almost fond. “But I’d do more than that if I found her again p>
The words slide dark and heavy between us.
My chest tightens, the memory of his earlier promise–If I have to chain her to the bed…-slicing through my brief calm.
I fall silent.
His hand doesn’t move. The music swells, slow and dangerous,
as
if
room knows the truth neither of us is saying.
And I keep dancing, my mask hiding everything, while the who swore he’d never let Sorin go speaks about her like a man
prayer.
The music drags us forward before I can get a word out, the bass line a heartbeat under my feet. Alaric doesn’t let go. His palm stays at the small of my back, hot enough to burn through the thin silk of my dress.
“Any wounds? ”
The question cuts clean, low enough that only I hear it. “On you.” His gaze drops as if he can see through the mask, through the thin black silk of my dress. “I keep catching a scent p>
My mouth goes dry. “I p>
My eyes snap to his. Amber flecks catch the chandelier light. He’s/close–too damn close. I can’t think of an answer!
“Don’t play.” His voice drops lower, a quiet rumble. “You’re hiding something. I can smell it p>
My chest tightens.
He can’t
mean
“Smell what?” I manage.
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Chapter 36
“ That hideous ointment.” His mouth twitches into a slow grin. “Smells like someone tried to pickle you?
A startled laugh escapes before I can swallow it.
Idiot.
His brows lift, pleased. “There it is p>
He studies me as if he can peel the mask off with his eyes.
I force a deeper laugh, rough enough to scrape. Shit, he might just recognize my voice. “Guess I need a better pharmacist p>
He leans in until I catch the faint bite of whiskey on his breath. “You sound like someone I know p>
Ice slides down my spine. I drop my voice half an octave, mock–serious. “I’m everyone’s someone. Terrible cur
The waiter glides past with a tray of tequila, glasses catching the light like tiny suns.
Talk about coincidence. I really needed that perfect distraction.
I grab one. Then another. Both burn a clean trail down
my
throat.
Alaric’s brow arches. “Take it easy, mask girl p>
“Relax, King,” I say, words sharper than I mean. “I can keep up p>
The tequila hums in my blood, a shaky shield. I reach for anything to steer us away from the truth clawing at the edge of this conversation.
“Where’s the girl you’re looking for now?” I ask without thinking.
The second the words leave my mouth, I want to snatch them back.
Idiot. Idiot. Why would you ask that? Of course he’s already frustrated looking for her! I mean me! Ugh, the lines are definitely blurring.
Alaric stills. The smile dies. His jaw locks so tight I hear the faint click of his teeth.
The orchestra shifts into something fierce–Mozart, all fast strings and hard percussion–as if the room knows his mood. Thankfully, I know the music as well.
His eyes darken, molten gold edged with shadow. HIs wolf is on edge.
He doesn’t answer. Instead he pivots sharply, pulling me with him into the sudden onslaught of the music. The tempo leaps and the floor becomes a battlefield.
I stumble once, catch myself.
Then the muscle memory kicks in. I know this dance. Every brutal beat.
His
eyes dart on my footwork and I internally smirk,sucks for him if he wants me to get intimidated by this. I danced this with everyone before including him. I know it fully well.
“You dance this well,” he says, voice a low growl as we twist through a double spin. “Not many can keep up when it turns
violent p>
“I’ve danced it before,” I shoot back, breath coming faster.
His eyes narrow. “With who p>
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Chapter 36
My pulse hammers. Sweat slicks the back of my neck.
“Someone,” I say, too quick.
He pushes harder, steps sharper, forcing me to match him. The crowd blurs, couples scattering to give us space. We’re the only ones still moving this fast, this vicious.
“Someone taught you,” he presses. “Name. They might be someone I know p>
I bite down on a curse. The tequila isn’t helping. My thoughts skid everywhere–back to a different night, a different Alaric, when we danced without masks back in the Woodridge Pack when Wade wasn’t there and I’m forced to hold parties.
“Maybe I taught myself,” I say, breathless.
He leans in until his mouth hovers a hair from my ear, his next words a quiet, dangerous rasp.
“Liar p>
His hand climbs higher on my back, fingers splayed wide, thumb brushing bare skin at the edge of the dress. The contact shoots heat through me.
“You don’t flinch,” he says, voice almost fascinated. “Every other woman trips by now p>
“Guess I’m not every other woman p>
“I know p>
The admission lands heavy, certain.
We spin again–hard. My skirt whips around, brushing his thigh. The scent of him–cedar smoke and wild forest–wraps around me, dizzying.
“Tell me who touched you like this,” he says.
My breath stutters. He feels it, his grip tightens.
I stare up through the mask. “Why do you care p>
His eyes blaze, gold burning at the edges. “Because she danced like this. Sorin p>
My name in his mouth, a ghost I shouldn’t hear.
My knees almost buckle. I swallow hard, the tequila suddenly acid.
“She’s gone,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
His entire body goes rigid. “What do you know about her p>
Shit.
“I–heard the stories.” I try for casual, fail. “Everyone did p>
“You don’t believe them.” Not a question.
The music crashes toward its final movement–strings slicing, drums pounding. Our steps match every frantic beat. He drives us across the floor, relentless.
“You move like her,” he says, each word a measured strike. “Laugh like her p>
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Chapter 36
“ I’m not- My voice splinters.
“You even fight the lead like she did.” His thumb grazes the side of my ribs, slow, deliberate. “Who the hell are you? ”
I can’t breathe. The mask feels welded to my skin.
He pulls me into a sudden dip, my back arched, his face inches from mine. The world shrinks to heat and breath and the pounding of my heart.
“Name,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine. “Tell me p>
The final note explodes through the hall. Silence follows–sharp, absolute.
The room tilts.
His grip doesn’t loosen.
“I asked,” he says softly, menace threading every syllable, “who taught you to dance like this p>
The chandelier light catches the faint silver in his hair. His pupils flare wide, nearly black.
I taste copper on my tongue, realize I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek.
Say nothing. Don’t break.
His thumb slides up my spine, slow as a threat. “Don’t make me drag it out of you p>
The crowd claps for the orchestra’s finale, a roar that barely touches us.
All I hear is my own pulse.
I part my lips, but no sound comes.
His gaze drops to my mouth, lingers.
When he looks back into my eyes, something final settles in his expression.
“Last chance,” he whispers.
Man, the alcohol sure is not helping. “I–uh p>
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