“Evelyne, love, I have been searching for your beautiful face all night,” Obren drawled, looking her over with a widening grin. “And damn, was it worth the wait.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“My, my,” Obren continued, his voice smooth as ever, eyes dragging over her with open admiration. “You look far too stunning to be sitting on a rock. Dance with me.”
Evelyne parted her lips to decline, already bracing for the smug persistence that would follow, but Kaldrek spoke first.
“You should go,” he said flatly. “Enjoy yourself.”
She blinked.What?
Her gaze snapped to him, searching his face, but his expression gave nothing away. Cold. Detached. Just moments ago, he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, and now he was handing her off like she meant nothing.
Anger bubbled up fast. She was done playing along if this was still his way of protecting her from Obren. She wouldn’t pretend her feelings didn’t exist just because he was too afraid to name his own.
She turned to Obren and smiled sweetly. “I’d love to.”
Obren’s grin widened, triumphant and dangerous all at once.
As Evelyne let him lead her into the crowd, she could already feel Kaldrek’s stare searing into her spine. She refused to glance back.
Chapter 39
The drums pounded, deep and primal, a rhythm that seeped into Evelyne’s bones, her pulse, and every sway and roll of her body. The air was rich with smoke and laughter, with the electric hum of bodies moving in tandem beneath the moon’s glow. And at the center of it all was Obren, his hands firm on her hips, his grip possessive as they moved together.
He was as bold and flirtatious as ever, but Evelyne wasn’t fooled. This wasn’t about charm anymore. It was a performance, one meant to needle Kaldrek. And if Kaldrek wanted to sit back and stew in silence, fine. Let him.
She wasn’t about to hold back.
Evelyne surrendered to the rhythm, letting the music move her. She tipped her head back, eyes closed, the beat pulsing through every line of her body. A smile touched her lips as she arched into each step, her hips finding an easy rhythm with Obren’s practiced touch.
Still, she felt it. That burning stare from across the fire.
She didn’t need to look to know Kaldrek was watching. His anger clung to her like smoke, jealousy simmering beneath the surface.
He’d once told her she drove him mad.
Let him unravel if he wasn’t willing to claim what he so clearly wanted.
Obren’s hands skimmed over the bare skin of her stomach, teasing and lingering, but before she could even process the contact, the fire seemed to burn hotter, the air suddenly charged with something dark.
A low, lethal voice cut through the sound of the drums.
“That’s enough.”
Evelyne turned. Kaldrek stood nearby, his posture rigid, muscles drawn tight as a bowstring. His eyes burned with something fierce and unspoken.
Obren, of course, didn’t budge. He only smiled and kept his hands firm on Evelyne’s hips, gripping a little harder. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone all mockery.
Kaldrek didn’t answer, not at first. He just stared, the fire casting sharp shadows across his face.
“We’re in the middle of something,” Obren added, his voice low, taunting. “You’ll have to wait your turn.”
Evelyne swore she heard a low growl deep in Kaldrek’s throat. Then he stepped forward.
“I said that’senough.”
Obren’s grin sharpened. “Does it bother you when I touch her like this? She doesn’t seem to mind. Do you, love?”
