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The commotion in the box caught the eye of the new dancer, and she lifted her head toward me, the golden green of her eyes even more intense in person, despite the space between us. Our gazes locked across the vast theater, and she offered me a quick smile without losing a step. Her tasseled skirt swung around her hips as she spun in time with her crew, never missing a beat.
I sank back down, my heart racing as I willed her again to look at me, tongue jutting out to lick my lower lip as the show progressed. But I had absolutely no idea what was going on beyond the beautiful dark-haired fae who stole the stage and made me wish I had front-row seats tonight.
Maren,I recalled from Maximo’s website on the drive in from the palace.Her name is Maren.
I wondered if Maren was more than just a beautiful face and a stunningly beautiful body.
Does it really matter?
I was somewhat surprised to discover that I really did want to know. I needed to hear her voice, at the very least. But I braced myself for disappointment.
It was a common misconception that beauty and intelligence didn’t mix, but could she be the living proof that they did?
I fully intended to find out before the night was over.
Chapter 2
Maren
Imade two missteps and missed two cues, each mistake weighing heavily on me and making me more flustered as the show went on. All the magic of dancing succumbed to sheer shame and panic by the time the curtain fell.
“Pay attention, Maren!” one of the other dancers hissed at me when we took to the wings between scenes, and I blushed furiously, certain I had messed up the entire opening night. In my upset, I hadn’t even thought to use magic to right my litany of wrongs—not that it probably would have made much of a difference. Any spells would have likely backfired on me in my trembling humiliation.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, hurrying off to do my costume change.
Goosebumps rushed over my body, not because I was cold, but because I was embarrassed. I wanted to run backstage and hide for the rest of the night, but I didn’t dare.
You can do this, Maren. Just get your groove back.
The little errors were just that—little—but they blew up in my mind, and I felt like I had ruined the entire production. It was no wonder some of my castmates glowered at me.
But the night went on, and the songs flew from our mouths in conjunction with the erotic dances we had practiced endlesslyover the past weeks and months. Several times, I caught the glint of an intense stare from one of the private boxes, but I couldn’t make out the face of the shadowy audience member who watched my every move.
Was it a critic? Were they taking notes of my mistakes? Was I going to read about this online tomorrow?
I couldn’t wait for the final curtain to fall, my hands clammy, brow sweaty as I took a bow with my castmates, somehow managing to maintain a smile the entire time, but inwardly, I wanted to cry. I didn’t dare do that, either. I counted down the minutes until my escape.
“Good show!”
“Great job!”
Words of praise echoed through the wings and backstage, but I was sure none of them were directed at me. I slunk into the dressing room and slid to the vanity to remove my stage makeup with shaking hands, avoiding eye contact as much as possible with everyone.
“Why the long face?” Tristiana asked, plopping onto the seat next to me.
She reached up to unpin her blonde mane into a shimmering cascade over her wide shoulders. Even in her fae form, it was blatantly obvious that my friend could shift into some kind of powerful animal. She was built like a building. It hadn’t surprised me to discover that she could transform into an ox, although she rarely did.
“What the hell use is there for an ox shifter?” she once asked me. “Your ability is handy. Mine is just lumpy and awkward. I’d rather forget I’m a cow, thank you very much.”
I eyed Tristiana through the reflection of the glass, my own hazel eyes capturing her green ones. She arched an eyebrow expectantly. “Well? Why do you look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown?”
“I screwed up,” I whispered, glancing furtively through the mirror behind us. “I almost ruined the show.”
Tristiana’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “What? When?” she demanded without a hint of sarcasm.
I stifled a sigh. “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice.”
“Ididn’tnotice, and since when do you know me to pretend anything?” Tristiana snorted. “I can’t even fake an orgasm.”
