I scan the crowd obsessively, searching for Serah. I finally spot her near the edge of the gathering with some of the younger clan members. She's not eating, just nursing a cup of something and looking profoundly uncomfortable.
Several warriors hover nearby. I recognize Gornak and his crew—younger males who've been rising through the ranks. They're looking at Serah with open speculation, passing comments between them that I can't hear but can easily imagine.
My magic stirs restlessly. The constant proximity to Kira is wearing on my control—I keep catching flashes of her emotionsbleeding through. Determination. Attraction. Calculation. She wants this alliance. Wants me. The intensity of it grates against my already frayed nerves.
"—quite impressive, don't you think?"
I realize Groth asked me something. "Absolutely," I say, having no idea what I'm agreeing to.
Dad shoots me a warning look. I paste on my best charming smile and try to focus on the conversation. Try to ignore Serah's presence burning into my awareness like a brand. Try to pretend this is fine, that I'm not slowly suffocating under the weight of everyone's expectations.
The feast drags into evening. Music starts—drums and horns creating rhythms meant for dancing. Kira rises, offering her hand with an expectant smile. "Dance with me?"
I glance at Dad. He nods encouragingly.
Fuck.
I let Kira pull me into the dancing. She's skilled, moving with warrior's grace, pressing close enough that her intentions are unmistakable. Around us, other couples spin and sway. I catch glimpses of Kaelen dancing with Lola, both of them wrapped up in each other completely.
That could be me and Serah. Should be me and Serah.
Instead, I'm here with a woman I don't want, playing a role I never auditioned for.
Kira's hand slides up my chest. "You're very tense."
"Just tired." The lie comes easily now.
"We could go somewhere more private?" Her meaning is clear. "Get to know each other better?"
Every instinct screams rejection. My magic recoils at the thought of touching her intimately, of opening myself up to that level of emotional connection with anyone but?—
I spot Serah again. She's moved closer to the fire, standing with Lola. But those warriors are still circling, drawn by her presence like predators scenting vulnerability.
Gornak says something that makes his companions laugh. Then he's approaching Serah, offering his hand.
She shakes her head, stepping back.
He persists, moving closer.
"—listening to me?"
Kira's irritated tone pulls my attention back. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you wanted to—" She follows my gaze and her expression hardens. "The human again. You're distracted by the human."
"I'm just making sure she's okay."
"Why? She's not your responsibility." Kira's voice carries an edge now. "Unless there's something between you?"
"No," I lie, and the word tastes like ash. "Nothing like that."
Kira studies my face for a long moment. Then she deliberately presses closer, rising on her toes to whisper in my ear. "Good. Because I don't share, Rakk. If we're going to mate, you need to be clear about where your loyalties lie."
The presumption in her tone, the casual claiming of my future—it snaps something inside me. But before I can respond, shouting erupts from near the fire.
I turn to see Gornak with his hand wrapped around Serah's upper arm, pulling her toward him. She's trying to twist free, but his grip is iron. The other warriors laugh like this is entertainment.
"Come on, human," Gornak slurs, clearly drunk. "Just one dance. Unless you're too good for?—"
