Page 87 of Salem’s Rise

Silas looks offended. “Shame. I was about to accept.”

That gets another laugh from my friends as Micah leads Wren toward the dance floor. Lena follows, finding a pretty girl in a gold gown and asking her to dance.

My eyes catch on Lucien, moving among his guests with effortless charm, first dancing with an elderly female donor, then kissing the hand of a university trustee. Flanking him are Georgina’s parents and the Ashcrofts, all charming smiles and old money. In the same circle, I recognize the governor, two U.S. senators, and a professional athlete from one of Boston’s major sports teams.

I lean close to Silas. “Are they all Veil?”

“Some.”

“Which ones?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

I roll my eyes. “Ha ha.”

Most of The Rites competitors and their families are here too. I spotted Van and his brute partner watching me earlier with open hostility, while Rowan and Georgina dance together now, their gazes occasionally drifting toward Silas and me with obvious displeasure.

Silas seems unbothered by any of it. Almost… happy.

A waltz begins then, and the room responds immediately. Conversations pause as couples move toward the floor as though summoned by habit. They take their places for what appears to be some sort of couples’ dance. Silas takes my hand and tugs me forward, the black stone on his ring catching the chandelier light.

“Uhhh… what are you doing?”

“It’s a traditional Salem’s Fall Christmas dance,” he says. “As a member of a founding family, it’s my obligation to teach you.”

I look at him. “I thought this was a strategic alliance only.”

“Strategic alliances can include dancing.”

“Are you sure?” I tease. “I don’t think that’s in the official rules.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t try to kiss you again, if that’s your concern,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth and lingering there, slow enough to feel like a touch. He steps closer, forcing me to tip my head back to meet his eyes. I forget sometimes just how much taller he is than me. His voice drops, low and private. “Unless… you want me to.”

My pulse stumbles, then forgets how to behave entirely.

And just like that, I’m remembering our kiss again. His lips on mine. How ridiculously good it felt. How much trouble that wicked mouth of his could get me into.

For one reckless second, I almost consider closing the distance and finding out if he’s willing to do it all over again. Then I get a grip on myself and let him pull me onto the dance floor before I can do anything stupid.

My head rests on his shoulder as his palm settles against my waist, holding me like he’s been waiting all night for the excuse. Every point of contact between us becomes impossible to ignore. The warmth of his hands through the velvet. The quiet strength in the arms holding me. We turn beneath the chandeliers, Silas moving with complete control. He adjusts when I hesitate and somehow makes every misstep I make look intentional.

“You’re really good at this,” I say, admiring how effortlessly he moves.

“My mother considers ballroom dancing a basic survival skill.” He smiles. “You’re not as terrible as I thought you’d be.”

“Careful,” I joke. “Wouldn’t want to overdo it with the compliments. I might start thinking you don’t still hate me, after all.”

I give him a teasing grin, not really meaning it. We’re not exactly friends, but something between us has shifted, even if I’m not ready to examine it too closely.

His hand tightens at my waist. “Perhaps I simply hate how much everyone else seems to like you.”

When I look up, his eyes catch the light, and I’m surprised to see they’re not as dark as I always thought. This close, I can see the actual color beneath—blue, so deep it only reveals itself when the light strikes directly.

“What does that mean?”

His gaze shifts past me to a quiet corner where Rowan and Georgina sit together. “For starters, Ashcroft is still quite taken with you.”

My step falters.