Page 245 of Blade of the Nightking

His blue eyes flicked to Rìan beside me, waiting for an objection. None came. Even so, I didn't need to look to feel his stare burning into the side of my face.

“Lady's choice,” Rìan said through gritted teeth.

“Excellent.” I clapped my hands together.

“After breakfast?” Thalassis suggested politely. Whatever warmth the Ambrosia had coaxed from him moments before had vanished, replaced by the careful deference of a High Lord addressing another male's mate.

“Wonderful.”

He bowed once more before disappearing into the crowd.

I watched him go, then angrily shoved an errant lock of hair behind my ear.

“What the hell was that?”

“He was getting too close.”

I planted my hands on my hips. “What concern is it of yours?”

“You've taken Ambrosia.”

“So have you.”

“Yes,” he said pointedly. “But I'm not the one who can't control herself.”

A spark of indignation flared through me.

“Excuse me?” I took another step closer, close enough that I was breathing his air. “All we did was dance.”

“If that were all it was,” he said evenly, “I wouldn't have intervened.”

I let out an incredulous laugh.

“If you wanted to dance with me, Aedric, all you had to do was ask.”

The words escaped before I had the chance to swallow them.

The ballroom around us softened into a blur, bands of color gliding across his skin. The silence between us stretched, the music fading beneath the relentless pull of the bond. For one breathless, stomach-dropping moment, I thought he might actually do it. That he might close the distance between us, take my hand⁠—

“No.”

For one confusing heartbeat, disappointment opened inside me, hot enough to sting my cheeks, before irritation swept in to mercifully bury it.

I straightened, regaining my composure. “It might be worth noting that I provided the distraction you needed for tomorrow.”

“Noted.”

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging in just above my elbow as he steered me toward the exit.

I twisted against his grip. “I’m not ready to leave.”

The movement only drew curious glances. His hold tightened, hard enough to bruise, and he bent close, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “You'd think after your little performance in Illyra, you'd know better.”

All at once the memory crashed over me. Heat flooded my face so violently I thought I might burst into flame. With everything that had happened, I'd had no time to dwell on what I'd done when my magic had taken control.

When I’d lost myself. In front of him.

The Ambrosia only made it worse. My humiliation swelled until it was almost physical, embarrassment burning so fiercely beneath my skin that it hurt to breathe. My eyes stung with the sudden threat of tears.