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“Is that a challenge?” I purred, snatching the alcohol back and filling her drink to the brim.
“Maybe,” she whispered, her fingers trailing along my exposed forearm, tracing a tattoo there.
Our flirty encounter was interrupted by the scraping of chairs behind me, and I whipped around as the Night Fae took their seats to my left. Kazimir sat beside me in an open challenge, and I almost lost my shit and tackled him right there.
He was not allowed to be this close to my mate.
A growl rumbled in my chest, and Izidora’s grip tightened on my arm in warning.
“Ignore him. He wants the attention, to make you look bad in front of the other realms. He probably knows we turned them against him.”
She was right, but that didn’t soothe my inner Dragon, who wanted to fight and protect his mate. I greeted every other Night Fae except for him before turning my back. I wasn’t an empath, but the anger radiating off of him at the blatant disrespect was palpable, like pinpricks of hate spearing into my skin. Izidora’s brows pinched like she felt it too, so I reminded her to block the emotions of everyone around us.
She nodded, eyes closing momentarily as she worked to block out all the demands on her attention pounding into her like a thousand silent raindrops. Our bond was thick, strong, andunbreakable, and while it acted like a steady stream of emotion and thought to one another, I couldn’t begin to comprehend the enormous toll all of that took on her. I only hoped I didn’t contribute even more stress to her with my own inner turbulence.
When she reopened her eyes, revealing those beautiful aquamarines I wanted to drown in, she looked lighter, her shoulders falling lower and a sigh escaping those perfect pink lips. Lifting my glass, I offered her a toast. “To a lovely evening with my future wife.”
Her smile was devastating as she raised hers in turn. “I cannot wait.”
Anton and Slavian dropped down on Liliana’s other side, both holding glass bowls of popcorn. Slavian looked pointedly past me at Kazimir, raised his eyebrows, then shoveled a handful of food into his mouth, not caring that he missed and some fell to the floor around him.
“You alright over there, buddy?” he asked, slurring his words, and I rolled my eyes again.
“I am your king, Slavian, not your buddy,” I scowled, leveling the same stare at an equally drunk Anton.
“Ruslan, you gotta come out to Steel again soon and bring Izidora. She had so much fun the other night at the ceremony,” Anton whined, lifting his drink and sipping from it.
Liliana tossed her hair over her shoulder and perused the two noble Félvér beside her. Then, she dug her hand into Slavian’s bowl and stole his food, casually popping piece after piece into her mouth. The two fixated on the movement like hounds drooling over their dinner. “I’ll come any night,” she said suggestively, saving me from having to respond to my High Lords.
Slavian’s eyes flared with hunger, and three different scents of arousal hit my sensitive nose. I lifted my wine to my lips andsipped, trying to cover the smell. Izidora watched the exchange with barely veiled amusement, and for a moment the male behind me was forgotten.
Before their flirting could go any further, the lights dimmed around us, signaling the start of the performances. I scooted my chair closer to Izidora’s so I could touch her – not in a sexual way, but rather because I wanted to feel her against me and know she was safe.
The same announcer from the competition greeted us, outlining the evening’s entertainment and bolstering the excitement of the crowd. “For our first act, we have a ballet! Please welcome the dancers to the stage.”
The crowd applauded as he departed, lights dimming momentarily before music filled the space and dancers leaped onto the stage. An array of colorful lights followed their movements, some acting as a landing pad for the astonishing leaps the dancers took through the air. They floated across the stage as if they were Crystal Fae dancing on water, movements so airy and elegant it was hard to imagine gravity having an effect on them. Beside me, Izidora leaned forward ever so slightly, enraptured by their movements. As the tension in the music heightened, the dancers twirled faster and faster, weaving flawlessly in and out of one another until the music stopped altogether, freezing them in place. A beat of silence passed, all dancers still as stone, the crowd holding its breath in anticipation of what would happen next. The lightest of notes cut through the stillness like the clanging of metal, and the dancers began flowing like a stream, running off in every direction as the music faded out.
Cheers followed them offstage as the audience went wild for their act, and after a few whistles they returned to give a series of bows and accept the flowers offered to them. Once the excitement had died down, the announcer returned, introducingthe next performance. “Those of you on the front row might want to lean back if you don’t want your eyebrows singed,” he warned. “Please welcome the Firebreathers!”
A troupe of Iron Fae and Félvér took to the stage, splitting into groups of three across. On one end, a series of flaming hoops were lit, and the performers took turns leaping through them, displaying their bravery. In the front, a group juggled flaming balls and batons with expert care, and I covered my smirk with my hand as the crowd gasped as time and time again the three held the flaming balls in their hands without getting burned. Little did they know, the three performers in the front were all half Dragon Shifter, so the fire did not burn them. On the other side, three performers were setting up for their finale, building what looked like a mountain out of crates and boxes and covering them with gray sheets. The other sets began working their way around, giving them the space they needed to continue their uphill build, until finally they rose high above the crowd. One raced to the top, flaming batons in hand, and paused, surveying the area beneath him. Then with a mighty roar, he tilted his head back, brought the baton close to his face, and exhaled, breathing fire into the air and spewing it over the heads of the crowd. Once the flames died down, the crowd erupted in applause, and the performers bowed to the audience and tore down their set in rapid succession.
We watched another dance after the Firebreathers, then listened to a male tell jokes for far too long. By the time the hounds and their masters walked onstage, Izidora and Liliana were drunk, giggling, and falling all over each other beside me. I squeeze my mate’s leg under the table to get her attention. “You’re going to like this one, sprite.”
“What are they going to do?” she asked with a slight hiccup.
“Watch and you’ll see.”
She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I sighed contentedly, reaching across to stroke her hair and turning my head to plant a kiss on her forehead.
The trainers shouted commands at their dogs, and they pranced across the stage, never looking away from their masters as they remained glued to their sides. They sat obediently when they halted, spun on command, then returned to their place. One pair broke away, centering themselves on the stage. The trainer produced a length of rope, showing it to the dog, then used a ladder to place it on a newly-erected stone wall at the end of the stage. The dog remained stationary while his master placed the rope, his eyes never leaving his prize. On command, the dog sprinted toward the wall, launching himself into the air as he scaled it, and snatched the bit of rope before backflipping off of the wall and landing lightly on the ground.
Izidora gasped beside me, her head lifting off my shoulder as her hands covered her mouth in shock. “That was amazing!”
“I thought you might like it,” I smiled down at her.
Our attention returned to the stage, where the second dog jumped through the flaming hoops of the Firebreathers, fearless in his flight as he chased his master. After the fifth hoop, he turned sharply and raced to the second trainer, whose arm was thickly padded and extended to the hound. With an incredible display of force, he lunged for it and latched on to the padding, not letting go as the second trainer lifted him into the air. Only when his master shouted the command to release did he back away and begin barking at the second trainer.
“That is so fuckin’ cool,” Liliana slurred, clapping her hands.
