Page 35 of Tides of Shadows

“May I have this dance, my Lady?” he asked formally as he reached me, bowing slightly and offering his hand.

“Do I have a choice?”

“I fear not.” His smile deepened, and before I could protest, he led me to the center of the floor. His hand settled at my waist, steady and deliberate, guiding me in time with the music. My hand touched his shoulders that were firm with muscles. I tried not to look at his face too long, though his defined jaw and full lips weren’t helping.

“I’m merely trying to assist with your reputation,” he murmured once the circling dancers hid us from view. “In case you’ve not noticed, after your… date with Magnus, the men seem to be terrified of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “First, it wasn’t a date. Second, he deserved it. Third, I’m not looking for a man.”

“For now,” he said, his voice low, teasing. His palm pressed a little firmer against my back. “But how do you imagine your future? Will you return to the islands and live alone until you die? Unless…” His gaze glinted. “You already have a lover there. One of those handsome Bjorgs, perhaps?”

“There is no one. Leave it.” My tone was sharp, but something in me trembled. I forced it down. Love and longing had no place in my world anymore.

“And you?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Are you betrothed to Lady Velena?”

A shadow crossed his face. “No. Our parents would rejoice if it were so. But I’ve managed to delay it. It isn’t that she’s unworthy, Velena is… quite beautiful.”

Something inside me twisted, though it had no right to.

“But I do not see myself bound, not yet.”

“Then perhaps we are not so different,” I said quietly, meeting his gaze.

He did not look away. His hand pressed firmer at my back, and our steps grew more fluid, more in tune. He moved with a grace that was both fierce and effortless. I began to understand why the court’s ladies lost themselves so easily in him. He smelled faintly of rosemary and lavender. He was intoxicating, a temptation I could never afford to taste.

“Why don’t you dress like this more often?” he asked suddenly, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Ball gowns are not the most practical attire,” I replied.

“I don’t want you to look practical.” His smile was crooked. “Perhaps I should have added that to our contract.”

Something shimmered between us. Heat, power and something I could not name. His gaze caught mine, and for a heartbeat the world around us fell away. The music stopped, but none of us moved.

Then the air trembled. A familiar energy prickled at the back of my neck.

Dricus Cineris stood beside us.

“Lord Cavareth,” he said evenly, his voice heavy with restraint. “Might I steal Lady Veymaris for the next dance?”

Aidenar’s jaw tightened. “Lord Cineris,” he replied with polite stiffness. “It has been some time. Of course…” He released me reluctantly. “I trust she is in safe hands.”

The silence between them was taut, sharp as a drawn blade. Aidenar’s eyes began to glow, and Dricus didn’t move a muscle, simply glaring at Lord Cavareth. Power hummed between three of us, lurking like a predator, as if waiting only for the sign to break free. Were we amplifying each other or just agitating?

I knew that if I didn’t stop this soon, someone would lose control, so I took Dricus’s hand for the next dance.

He looked every inch as the shadow of the night. Black uniform, crimson trim, his sharp features cut by light and shadow. Calm radiated from him, nonetheless there was something beneath it, something unreadable.

“I thought you had left the city for good,” I said lightly, though curiosity burned within me.

“I had matters to settle,” he replied, his tone curt but not unkind. “I see you remain whole and unbroken.”

“I do not know why you still worry over me.”

A half-smile ghosted across his lips. “A strange instinct, perhaps. You have a talent for trouble. Speaking of which…” His gaze flicked toward Aidenar. “It seems you’ve caught the Young Lord’s eye.”

He shook his head slightly. “If I may offer counsel. Do not be taken in by him. The palace hums with tales of his conquests. He is not worth your tears.”

I laughed softly, though there was an edge to it. “Believe me, Lord Cavareth ranks last on my list of suitors. Well, just before Magnus Dorthal.”