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“You should hear some Marilyn Manson,” said Zoey.
“Nope,” Kyra proclaimed, waving her hands back and forth. “Nobody’s ready for that.”
Zoey snickered, just as the song came to an end and another began—June laughed—”Dancing Queen” by ABBA.
Kyra chortled. “Oh, come on.”
“This is your theme song!” Zoey exclaimed. Then, dancing backward toward the dance floor, Zoey crooked her fingers at Kyra. “Come on, dancing queen. Let’s tear it up.”
Needing no more encouragement than that, Kyra followed her friend. “Come on, June!”
June glanced over at Tristan, who gave her a humored yet exasperated nod of his chin.
June adored Zoey’s playlist. After rocking it to “Dancing Queen”, they shook their bodies to a procession of chart-topping songs: “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas, followed by their hit “Let’s Get It Started”; “Happy” by Pharrell Williams; “Brick House” by the Commodores, which pulled from them the most ridiculous moves one could imagine; “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper; and “One More Time” by Daft Punk.
At one point they’d managed to pull Edel onto the floor, who’d humored them for one song and demurely swayed to the music while the rest of them let their freak flags fly. And it wasn’t just them—many of the other Faieara, taking a cue from their queen, were getting into the spirit as well, though they danced with much more grace and dignity. The earlier attack aside, this was turning out to be one of June’s most enjoyable evenings in recent years.
All the while, she felt Tristan’s eyes on her as he sat nearby with Cale and Orik, sipping a goblet of ale. She tried not to glance at him often but found it difficult not to. Something about him was alluring, and it wasn’t just that he was a drop-dead gorgeous hottie with a lickworthy physique. She sensed an inner strength within him…and deeply scarred pain. The kind of pain that, after tonight, she realized matched her own. The kind of pain that even time couldn’t heal: the loss of a loved one.
During the ceremony, June had gleaned that Tristan’s father had died in a recent war helping the Faieara take back their freedom. And Tristan’s loss was more recent than her own.
Was his wound still fresh? Was it still tearing at his heartstrings? Making him bleed every second of every day? Suffocating him in grief until he thought he would be smothered by it? Was he still fighting to rebuild himself from the scraps that his loved one had left behind? Did he blame himself, like she did?
She caught his gaze and held it as if she could find the answers in his eyes. Could he see her own pain? Was it plain on her face? Would he care if it was?
As she contemplated all this, the music slowed to a softer tone, subduing the dancers and luring lovers onto the floor.
Her new friends paired off, Kira with her demon king and Zoey with another male June did not recognize. He too had horns. How many demons were on this planet? She was debating joining Tristan at his table when that handsome dark-haired male who’d promised to show off his magic approached and asked if she would like to dance. He was tall and slim, but there was a strength in his physique that was obvious. Was she really about to slow dance with an alien?
Suddenly Tristan was there. He took her hand and twirled her to face him, placing his other hand upon her hip. With a parting glare at the other male, he elegantly led her away, weaving them both through the other couples.
“Tristan, I didn’t take you for a dancer.” He was remarkably adept.
“As a young prince, I was forced to take lessons extensively.”
“But you don’t enjoy it,” she surmised.
“I am making amends for my thoughtlessness earlier. I apologize if I insulted you. That was not my intention.”
“Apology accepted, but only because it’s your first offense. Don’t assume I forgive easily. Behave like that again and it will take a lot more than a simple dance to earn my forgiveness.”
He grinned. “Duly noted. What did you think the ceremony?”
“You said that was blood magic. What does that mean exactly? What happened when that light surrounded you?”
“It was like making a vow that you cannot break. As the leaders of our people, Kyra and I agreed to continue the alliance originally created by her father and mine. The magic assessed us both and accepted the accord. We are allies now until it is time to renew once more.”
“So what would happen if you broke the alliance?”
“If done in intentionally or with malice, I would die.”
She gasped. “Just like that?”
“The magic would be swift and without mercy. But that does no’ mean I am a slave to the whims of the Faieara, nor are they to mine. If we can help each other, we are bound to do so, but if one asks for help and the other determines they are unable to help for whatever reason, there would be no punishment if the heart is true, and neither would hold a grudge. We understand that we are duty-bound to our own kingdoms above all.”
His arm wrapped around her waist tighter, bringing their bodies closer together as they moved to the music. His heat seeped into her and she was surprised how comfortable she felt in his arms, as if dancing with a dragon-shifting king was the most natural thing in the world.
“The statue they revealed is beautiful,” she observed. “So realistic and elegant. It reminds me of you, actually.”
