She swallowed, momentarily caught off guard. Was he… joking with her?
Turning her focus back to the fire, she watched the shifters moving in rhythm around it. “I’ve never seen a gathering like this before.”
He only held out the horn toward her, offering what remained. She hesitated. This was hardly the sort of thing one did at a proper soirée. But really, what harm could it do?
“Just stay out of the way when we shift.” His voice dipped lower, carrying a quiet warning. “Or else you won’t even make it to morning.”
Evelyne gaped as he turned and walked away.
She looked down at the drink and took a small sniff. It was definitely not wine or champagne like in Caltheris. No, this smelled strong, like it could strip paint off walls. She took a tentative sip and instantly choked on the bitterness, her face grimacing.
Alaric’s laugh rumbled nearby. “Not a fan of their ale?”
She turned to see him slowly approaching, his bronzed skin glowing in the firelight. He had shed his tunic, matching the other men in the pack. She had never seen him like this before—bare-chested, at ease. And though she tried not to stare, she found her eyes drawn to him.
She remembered the last time his hands had been on her. The way he’d pressed against her, the heat of his mouth on hers—
A flush crept up her cheeks, and she quickly pushed the memory aside, letting the sting of his betrayal take its place.
“Well, it’s certainly not wine,” she muttered.
Alaric’s grin grew as he tipped his head back, taking a long, easy sip from his horn, the picture of carefree indulgence. “Come on,” he said, nudging her. “Let’s try to enjoy the night.”
Before she could protest, he gently took her wrist and led her toward a circle of shifters sitting in the grass, drinking and talking.
Her stomach relaxed when she spotted Heidara already seated, her bright green eyes twinkling with delight. The two black-haired menEvelyne recognized from the night of her capture were seated beside her. Between them was a striking woman with cascading fire-red hair. She couldn’t help but notice their unwavering focus on the young beauty. Both men stared at her as if the rest of the world had faded into nothing.
Directly across from Heidara sat Holden. Evelyne’s body went rigid, but before she could resist, Alaric leaned in and whispered, “You said we needed answers. We need to play the part.”
“Come, sit with us!” Heidara called out excitedly.
Alaric led Evelyne forward, and she lowered herself onto the grass. Holden’s gaze still lingered, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. He was enjoying her discomfort. She knew it.
Instead of looking away, she turned to face him, meeting his stare head-on and arching a brow in challenge. How many had backed down from that cold, predatory look? She wouldn’t be one of them. She was done being afraid.
Holden smiled wickedly. “Do you like what you see, little viper?”
Evelyne tilted her head. “Should I? And why do you call me that?”
He laughed before taking a long drink. “Because I like a woman with a bite.”
“And I like a man who knows when he’s about to get bitten,” she shot back.
Holden’s eyes glinted with intrigue. “Perhaps I’ll see just how sharp your teeth are out there.” He nodded toward the fire, where dancers moved in pulsing, instinctive rhythm, their bodies tangled and lost to the beat.
Her stomach sank. She couldn’t move like that. Couldn’t let someone touch her that way, not with so much feeling, not with so many eyes on her. But she wouldn’t let her nerves show, no matter what she felt.
“Or perhaps you’ll show me what you’re capable of first,” she countered. “Since I like the view so much.”
Holden’s tongue flicked across his lower lip as he leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of him. “Careful,” he murmured. “Don’t tempt me.”
Then he pulled away, walking off to refill his drink, leaving Evelyne to release a slow, trembling breath.
She turned her focus back to Heidara just as the young woman grabbed Alaric’s arm and beamed. “Come dance with me!”
Evelyne laughed as Alaric was hauled to his feet, the expression on his face somewhere between amused and panicked. Heidara wasted no time leading him toward the fire, where the beat of the drums deepened, the energy of the dance wild. To Evelyne’s surprise, Alaric caught on quickly. Soon, his hands found Heidara’s waist. Not in the intimate, seductive way she’d seen before, but fluid and comfortable. His laughter was real, the kind she hadn’t heard from him in a long time.
Holden returned, dropping onto the ground beside her and handing her another horn of ale. “You’re fun,” he admitted. “But not as convincing of a flirt as you think. What is it you really want?”
