Page 155 of Hellbound

A slow, predatory smile curved across Bohdan’s lips as Ksenia accepted the last ribbon. His green eyes glittered with barely concealed amusement.

His gaze lingered just a fraction too long on her face, drinking in the tension snapping through the lines of her body. Ksenia’s eye twitched, her jaw imperceptibly tight as she pulled her lips into a smile.

His fingers brushed against hers for the briefest moment as the ribbon transferred.

A jolt ran up her spine.

She found her place in the wide circle, ribbon in hand, heart hammering in her rib cage every time Bohdan’s eyes fell upon her. The orchestra swelled, the conductor whipping his baton with a flourish. Bohdan lifted his sword straight up, and the ribbons snapped taut like Ksenia’s spine.

Every other maiden turned to each other, and their delicate footsteps wove them in and out of the circle, the concentric rings of dancers swapping with every step.

Ksenia could hear the threads of the ribbons fraying, but it was nearly impossible to tell whose would snap after so many crossings and weavings.

A shearing sound accompanied the fluttering of a ribbon and the equally downcast look of one of the maidens in front of Ksenia. She exited the circle, ribbon dragging behind her.

With each snap of a ribbon and wind around the sword, the circle closed till only a few maidens remained.

Ksenia trained her eyes forward, focusing on her footsteps and fighting the burning sensation of Bohdan’s eyes on the side of her face each time she came back around. The remaining maidens blew kisses in his direction, drinking in the audience’s attention as their excitement and clapping grew with each ribbon eliminated.

All noise in the room was heightened in Ksenia’s mind as she and only one maiden remained. She prayed to the gods for mercy.

Shhhhhhhk.

The last ribbon tore softly against Bohdan’s blade, and Ksenia’s shoulders slumped.

A beautiful woman with auburn hair and deep blue eyes stomped away with barely concealed disappointment, leaving her ribbon on the floor behind her.

And within Ksenia’s hand lay the last tether to Bohdan. The crowd erupted with excitement and anticipation of what was to come.

With every passing second, Ksenia looked more like a feral caged animal while Bohdan slipped into comfort like this was any other night.

“Just fucking kill me now,” she whispered to him. He sheathed his sword with a wry shake of his head and proceeded to clasp his right hand with her left, and Ksenia’s pulse quickened. Together, they tied the length of ribbon around their hands in a loose knot, symbolizing unity. His hand steady, hers digging into his with half-moon indents.

“I should come clean now: I’m a terrible dancer,” she muttered under her breath, her face red.

“Oh, I know.”

She fought the urge to stomp on his foot.

“Do you ever yield?” His whisper ghosted against the shell of her ear.

Ksenia opened her mouth to answer.

“No.” He beat her to the punch. She scowled. “Let’s change that,” he said, voice low.

The music swelled once more, the conductor drawing out each note as his eyes watched the pair.

Ksenia focused on the steps, making her movements jerky and stilted.

“Let me lead.”

He swept her across the marble floor with ease, smoothing out her steps and making their dance look and feel effortless. The silken ribbons on her sleeve and corset fluttered behind her, the train of her dress fanning out across the floor.

The world narrowed, music becoming a living thing that pulsed through them simultaneously—every rise and fall, every turn, in perfect unison.

He signaled turns, dips, sweeping her to every corner of the ballroom, his gaze never leaving hers with a surety and confidence that comforted her and made her feel unnervingly exposed.

Who was leading and who was following faded from importance.