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I wasn’t going to attend my feast day celebrations. I never do. Or at least not anymore. I’ve left the souls in Videva to create their own celebrations. A habit of tradition more than anything else.
They continued to celebrate without me after I stopped throwing the ball on the third night of my feast days and then after I stopped making any appearance at all. They don’t need me to throw a party. My feast days are a convenient excuse.
I should be in the library, poring over the scrolls Kaia brought back from her most recent trip to Acaria. The ones that will hopefully confirm my theory that a blood relative might be a good substitute for Elora. Assuming I can find one she wouldn’t mind parting with.
So why am I standing outside Elora’s rooms dressed in my ceremonial robes edged with glittering silver thread?
As I consider leaving, I hear a door open down the hall. I don’t turn to watch Kaia approach, but she stops beside me, and there’s a smile in her voice when she speaks.
“Change your mind, then?”
“Apparently,” I mutter, adjusting the collar of my robes. “I’m going to regret this.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
“And why not?”
Her grin has a teasing edge to it. “Because I know what she’s wearing.”
Kaia steps forward and knocks twice on Elora’s door. It takes only a moment before a shadow appears at the crack and the door swings open. The sight of her steals my breath from my lungs.
I’ve seen her in a gown before. The night I followed her and Nevon into the forest. But that creation was nothing compared to this. She’s bewitching and uncomfortable with it if the way she’s tugging at the sleeves and fidgeting with the skirt is any indication.
The deep green velvet highlights the flecks of gold in her eyes, and the bodice shows off every sumptuous curve. The cut of the dress is lower than anything I’d ever expect her to wear, and the rounded tops of her breasts rise and fall with each breath. Her chest is flushed, whether from nerves or desire, I’m not sure, but the result makes me want to press my lips to her skin until she begs me to stop.
Elora looks between us, hesitation on her face, before her gaze finally lands on mine.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Bad?” How could she possibly think such a thing?
She runs her hands over her stomach and around to her hips, where the material clings, and then combs her fingers through her hair. Her usual braid is replaced by long, elegant waves that fall softly over her shoulders and down her back.
My fingers twitch at the urge to touch them, run my fingers through them. An urge I won’t give into until later. I imagine I’ll be giving in to a lot of urges before the night is out.
“You look stunning,” Kaia assures her. “Did you want to wear the overcoat? You could catch a chill if you’re not close to the fire.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” I say on impulse.
There’s not a chance I’ll let her to cover up any part of that dress with something else. As it is, it takes everything I have to extend my hand to her so we can go and not push her back into the room and have my way with her on every fucking surface.
Forgoing the overcoat, she takes a fortifying breath and places her hand in mine. We shift to the edge of Videva, the distant sound of voices carrying over the air as soon as we arrive.
I run my hand up her back to her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as I send power through her. Both to help with the effects of shifting and to keep her warm against the cold. I don’t have to touch her to do it, but I can’t help myself.
“I haven’t been to a feast day since I was a child,” Elora admits as we walk the last few steps to the square.
“You’ll love it,” Kaia assures her. “Bonfire night is my favorite. My people do something similar.”
“Do the celebrations still last three days here? Now that there’s no ball?”
“They do,” I supply. “Although it’s really just three nights of the same.”
“Would you ever consider hosting the ball again?”
Her question is quiet, but something about it has me itching to touch her, so I lay my hand on the small of her back, sliding it around her side and giving her a squeeze.
“Balls are better with proper hostesses.”
