Page 62 of Taken By Shadows

My shock was not concealed as I regarded Kaed. Sapphine had been involved with his brother? I couldn’t picture this slight creature, so prim, so proper, with Kaed.

But Kaed’s brother … I was having trouble finding where he fit into this.

Before I could ask—which was probably for the best, as Sapphine looked far too entertained by my ever-growing eyes with each revelation—Kaed broke the circle of tension between the four of us.

“As fascinating as it is to relive this part of history any time I see you, dear Sapphine, I must steal my bride-to-be for a dance.”

I hadn’t heard the music until now—I had been too consumed by the glow and twinkling of the garden to notice. The percussionist and string quartet atop a dais beyond the dance floor were like flowing water as they breathed their music into the sea of dancers.

Kaed pulled us to a paved section of the lawn, where couples dressed in elegant, flowing gowns and tailored tunics and bodices spun in unison to the quickening pace of the music.

“I can’t dance,” I protested.

But Kaed was already taking his place amongst the dancers. His hand never let go of mine. And maybe I should have loathed the way his touch warmed my skin but the bubbles of the fae wine allowed me to forget for a moment who he was, why I was here …

The one and only party I had ever attended had been Leesha’s wedding celebration in the foothills of the Banes, in a small clearing to the north of the village.

Bray had spent the entire night goading me to dance with him until, finally, I relented. I hadn’t wanted to be a spectacle, but something about Bray that evening had made me, for the briefest of moments, forget that I didn’t belong there.

And I had left him in that meadow.

Kaed’s finger to my jaw pulled me back to the present. “Let me lead.”

My heart thrummed in my chest from the touch.

I didn’t feel comfortable with letting Kaed take the lead with anything that had to do with me. But the alternative was turning to ice in front of everyone, and mortification won out.

The musicians gave a few notes to the crowd, and we all took our places. Kaed faced me and took a step into my space. The aura he exuded was crowding me even in such a magical setting; the vibrant, citrus embers of his scent scintillated over my senses as he came closer.

Kaed placed my hand on his chest. His fingers were cool, and the taught leather across his chest was supple under my touch.

And then he tugged me closer until those embers became flame and I could breathe in the mix of amber and bergamot, the citrus current and heat that awoke a hidden part of me.

This was dangerous.

I forced a shuddering breath through me, and then the music took off with the rhythmic pulse of drums.

At first, my body resisted the movements. It was stiff and refused to find comfort in the beat. Tension soured my muscles to the point of aching.

“Feel the pulse. Find the thread that makes you want to touch the music.” The words didn’t sound like Kaed. They were too warm. They were charged. Not enough mocking in them.

All I could feel was my hand resting on his chest. His fingers that grasped my hand, the hard plane of his body pressed into the curve of mine.

This dance was less of a swirl of water and more a thrumming of a heartbeat. It undulated, seeming to breathe in and out with the swelling of the violins and the drums commanded my chest to beat with them.

My eyes landed on Kaed’s painted ones, and I forgot to fear him.

The lure of the blue and sparkling sea surf of his eyes was piercing and they snared me in their wake.

Finally, my body gave in to the languid movements of the music. There was a momentary clench of everything in me as the drum hides beat against my skin, but then I let the music vibrate through me.

I didn’t know the steps. But it didn’t matter. I could feel them.

My face was level with his chest, and I looked up to see a cascade of his dark hair framing his face.

Heat swam through me and my hand untangled from his. My fingers hovered over the faint red line of his scar. I didn’t touch it. I wanted to. Something deeper than lust for his body wanted to know how he’d gotten it. The story it held. The pain.

In the air, I followed the punishing line of it until my fingers came close to his lips. I went to touch those, but his hand enveloped mine.