If she stood beside him, she would become a signal fire for the Order’s rage.
Sweat broke across Reagan’s back, not entirely from the movement.
The music surged toward its final beats, tense and fast and sombre as his own mind, and she was slipping from his grasp.
He had to move her out of the path of hatred and pain in the only way available to him.
In the last seconds of the sequence, he caught her by the waist, braced her, and she understood. As the ballad’s crescendo reached its peak, he lifted her. Jane pushed upward, using his shoulders for leverage, until her stomach levelled with his face, and he twirled her through the final turn.
The last notes faded. Her face was flushed, her ribcage lifting with each breath, and she smiled down at him. The sky behind her was awash with stars, none coming close to shining as brightly.
Reagan slid her down the length of his body, her skirts catching on his bare chest as he lowered her, the flimsy fabric bunching, and the front of her underwear grazed his lower stomach.
Perhaps it was the velmoria in the drinks or the smoke they had inhaled tonight, but Jane made a low sound and let her mouth rest on his chest. Kissed it.
Reagan shut his eyes, still breathing hard from the dance. He wanted to peel that dress right off, wanted to lick her whole until she shook.
Want after want after want.
She steadied on the ground, her smile waning as she took in his face.
He could protect her. He already had. And already failed.
He let go of her waist and stepped back.
Choosing her would be the most selfish act of his life. Not choosing her would be a slow kind of misery.
So he said, “You were right.”
Chapter 34
Jane
We returned to the table where the elves were still drinking. Arun was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps I had lost my chance to probe their standing with the Order tonight.
Before Reagan interrupted the dance, I’d been preparing to steer the conversation towards Banfgaard and let Arun speak. I wanted to hear what problems the elvenborn had, but there hadn’t been enough time, and I’d done a piss-poor job of changing the subject. He kept circling back to the swim, to the siren.
My skin still prickled with goosebumps long after I’d left the water, yet I made myself appear unfazed as I told him how I’d broken free. I was mildly satisfied by the flicker of admiration in the warrior’s expression.
Reagan might have had his own chance to speak with the elven lords. He hadn’t mentioned it while we danced, and honestly, I’d been caught off guard when he came. It seemed he’d forgotten he was avoiding me, that there was an easy truce between us. Perhaps the siren had shaken him.
I hadn’t cared and hadn’t asked about his conversation, content simply to move with him, to be that close. I wanted to enjoy it, wanted so much I’d kissed his chest.
“You are a gifted dancer,” Anife said, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. “I wonder how useful a skill it is for an emissary?”
“I don’t imagine it is particularly useful,” I replied.
“Isn’t it, though?” she asked lightly, her head tilting.
I shrugged, noticing Reagan taking his seat without sparing me another glance. He hadn’t explained what he meant after the dance, just walked ahead of me. I should have thanked him for it. I did feel steadier now, my shoulders looser than they had been all evening as he led us across the grass. But I didn’t know what that look on his face had meant. That crease in his brow when the music ended.
On the chair beside mine, Finn exhaled, exchanging a look with Maith. They had returned to the table before us. I could already imagine the fresh round of comments his uncles shot at him.
“She didn’t wish to come,” Eldar was saying as I settled into my chair. “Your mother seems to have given up on you coming back, but I was hoping you might surprise us all.”
Finn nodded, reaching for his glass. His voice was calm, almost bored, as though he had long expected this. “You may send her my greetings.”
“She misses you,” Eldar continued, voice solemn. “And we need you here.”
