“I could go for a drink,” I said, suddenly parched.
“Certainly.” He effortlessly steered us through the crowd without failing to greet those around him. He was magnanimous in his presence, calling each person who approached by name as if they were longtime friends instead of distant acquaintances. When we secured our drinks, he even made a point to thank the attendant before returning his focus to me. The warmth of the wine wasbeginning to linger in my limbs, and I reveled in the pleasure that came with it—and Orin.
“You’re nothing like I expected,” I said. The words were out before I realized, and I pressed my glass to my lips to keep anything else from accidentally spilling out.
“Oh? Well, I hope that’s a good thing.” Orin smiled. “I know the circumstances in which we met were less than favorable, but I’m not a monster, Edira, despite some of my more animalistic attributes.”
“I quite like the horns.” I should’ve just kept drinking. Talking was dangerous.
His grin deepened. “Good to know.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I averted my eyes to instead stare at the throng of people growing more riotous by the minute. They twirled beneath the chandeliers, sweat glistening in the flickering light, with drunken smiles stretched wide across their faces. Ignorance was bliss. So was wine.
Orin took a careful step closer, and the heat of his body against my side was a wonderful thing. “Care to dance?”
“Won’t your guests be expecting you? I’d hate to keep you from your duties.” I nodded toward a cluster of onlookers neither dancing nor eating, but precariously loitering as if they were waiting for Orin to move so they could determine how to interject.
“They can wait.” He placed a warm hand on the small of my back as he brought his lips to my cheek in a gentle, chaste kiss. “You’re the only one I care to entertain right now.”
Gooseflesh raced down my spine, and I rolled my lips together. Perhaps there was some benefit to looking like a garden when it meant being paired with the god of earth himself. No one would dare trample me. That realization brought a sense of power I’d never felt before. Here I was, surrounded by all sorts of important people, and I was the one who was untouchable.
This time, I led Orin to the floor designated for dancing. Ididn’t care that I didn’t know the steps or that my movements weren’t as fluid as his. Because I held all of Orin’s attention, and that was a power no one else had the hopes of attaining. His smile was wide, his body warm and safe. I loved that we could move together without trading ridiculous words or me worrying about my breath. About his breath. We were one. Just a tangled mess of limbs and laughter as I botched dance patterns and he saved me from falling. It was the most fun I’d had in years.
When the song ended and we were both breathless, we moved to the outskirts of the floor near tables laden with food and drink.
Orin’s hands found my shoulders, and I reveled in the warmth of his touch. “Shall we go again?”
“I just need a minute,” I managed. Orin nodded as he grabbed a chalice full of wine and drained it in one easy swig. His lips were stained a flush pink, and my fingers burned to brush against the soft opening of his mouth. Standing on my toes, I leaned against his chest and reached my fingers up to swipe away a bead of wine from his lip. “You left some behind.”
He tensed beneath me, his heart hammering into my body, and then his teeth gently snared my finger.
“Oops,” he murmured, still not releasing his grip.
A soft gasp pushed through my lips, and I was about to give in to the strange carnal desire I felt toward him, when an annoyed throat-clearing crested over the din of the partygoers.
“Orin, pleasure to see you.”
He released my finger and glanced over the top of my head. Annoyance flickered through his eyes, but it was immediately replaced with a wide smile befitting the evening’s host. “Ossanna. My apologies for not greeting you sooner.”
I turned to find the striking Ever, drink in hand. She looked the same as she did that day in the foyer, right down to the mischief in her ruby-red eyes.
“The others are waiting.” Her gaze slanted to me. “Shall we?”
Orin’s hand shifted to the small of my back. “We were just on our way.”
“Excellent.” She turned, the swish of her blue-black hair cutting through the air, and she crossed through the throng of people without an ounce of hesitation. Dancers turned, irritation lancing their features, but they swallowed their retorts the moment they spied who’d cut in front of them. No one dared to confront her, and instead they went back to their revelry without objection.
“Best we get this over with.” Orin sighed, and with a gentle push, he steered us around the crowd in the same direction as Ossanna. “Then, maybe after, we can finish what you started.”
I glanced past him at the lawns, at the twirling bodies and mirth-filled gazes, and for a moment my eyes wandered back to the tree where I’d last spotted Rorik. He was nowhere to be found—and neither was Jules—but I couldn’t focus on that. Orin’s words had filled me with something else entirely. I wanted to laugh like I had, to pretend like there was nothing more than tonight and this moment. All I wanted was to fall into the same merriment as the rest of the revelers. And I didn’t care who provided it.
“That sounds lovely.”
And I meant it.
Fifteen
On the outskirts of the fete sat a collection of ivory tufted chairs with ornate wooden feet. Most of them were occupied. Orin made quick work of introductions, confirming that the Evers sitting before me were in fact the prominent members of the Starglen and Waterstone families.
