And then—
A commotion near the edge of the dance floor.
I turn just in time to see Lucas—stoic, professional, “I’ve been guarding you all night” guy—drop into a windmill.
“Oh my,” I breathe.
Bastine follows half a second later, hitting the floor in a backspin. The crowd forms a circle around them, cheering. The children from Table 12 are screaming.
“Did you know they could do that?” I ask Julian, who appears out of nowhere.
“I did not.”
“Is breakdancing a standard part of security training?”
“No, but maybe it should be.”
We watch as Lucas and Bastine trade moves. Nathaniel wades into the circle and is doing some kind of choreographed routine with them—when did they have time to practice this?
Even Elena is laughing. Elena. The Russian vampire who’s probably witnessed the fall of empires. She’s standing at the edge of the circle with a glass of champagne, laughing, while Sofia tries to look unimpressed and fails.
“This is the strangest wedding I’ve ever attended,” I say.
“You’ve never been to a vampire wedding.”
“Are those a thing?”
“They are. Of course, they involve more blood.”
“I’ll stick with human weddings, thanks.”
The song ends. The crowd cheers. Lucas and Bastine stand up, look at each other, and bow in unison—which suggests this is not the first time they’ve done this.
And then the music changes.
Something slow. Something soft. The kind of song that makes couples drift toward each other.
Julian turns to me. Holds out his hand.
“I believe I owe you a dance.”
“I thought you didn’t dance.”
“I don’t.” His eyes are warm. “But I’m learning to move outside my comfort zone.”
I take his hand. Let him lead me onto the floor.
His arm wraps around my waist. My hand finds his shoulder. We move together—not gracefully, but together.
I press my cheek against his shoulder and close my eyes.
“Poppy?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
