AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The people here were beautiful. The music was beautiful. And I felt beautiful. I felt free.
My slippered feet seemed light as feathers as I spun and spiraled, swaying and flowing with the crowd, sometimes together, sometimes alone.
Suddenly, the music changed, slowing to a bewitching ballad. I changed the tempo of my dance to match the tune, swaying gently to the sound.
The floor had cleared a little and I could see the musician who was playing on the stage.
A young man held a brightly-painted red lute. His fingers strummed the instrument expertly. I watched with unblinking eyes, mesmerized as his hands danced lightly over the strings. The music was strange and spellbinding. All around me, the dancers had slowed, transfixed as I was.
The lute player had removed his coat and waistcoat. He wore only a thin white shirt tucked into a pair of black close-fitting trousers. My eyes trailed over him, taking in his slender hands, his lanky muscular form, all the way up to his face.
Our eyes met with a disarming jolt. He grinned and I felt myself grinning back without hesitation as I gazed into eyes that were a gleaming gold speckled with amber. The musician’s skin was the color of raw honey. He tossed his head back as he played, revealing more of a lean and angular face, all sharp beautiful edges. And his hair... A burnt-ochre color, like the flame of our campfire.
He was fae, I realized belatedly. Part-fae and incredibly beautiful. I let myself stare. It was clear he did not mind for he was doing the same. His eyes never left me. He kept them fixed on my face while his fingers plucked the lute. A small smile danced on his lips.
A hand caught mine. Man or woman, I couldn’t tell and didn’t care. It twirled me so fast I let out a shriek of glee, then let me go. I kept spinning, whirling around and around.
When I finally slowed and stopped, panting hard, my hands on my hips, my flying hair settling around my face, I saw that Draven had come in.
He leaned against the bar, a heavy lock of onyx hair falling over his forehead. Even in sturdy leather riding gear and a plain black cloak, he stood out from the crowd, his powerful frame pushing against the confines of the simple clothes. The muscles of his arms tightened as he crossed them over his chest, scanning the crowd with those disarming emerald eyes. When he saw me, he inclined his head to the door, gesturing that we should go.
I shook my head stubbornly and instead tilted my own towards the dance floor with a playful grin, indicating that he should join me instead. I wondered what had come over me, how I dared to suggest such a thing.
Draven did not grin back. Simply stood, looking at me, his angular jaw clenched as if it were carved from obsidian stone. Waiting.
I turned away, the khorva still pulsing through my veins, the music sending a throbbing hum through my entire body.
Warm hands slipped around my waist.
I looked up to see it was the young man who had been playing the lute. Tugging me gently by the hips, he pulled me back into the dancing throng.
A new song was playing, a deeper tempo, heavy and sensuous. I sashayed my hips, enjoying the feeling of warm hands on my curves.
“Tell me your name,” the half-fae boy whispered, his lips inches from my ears.
But I simply smiled and twirled.
He matched me with every step, moving with a feral grace, spinning me in circles, then whirling me back in until I hit his chest, my hand pressing against his taut form as I laughed and shrieked with delight.
I looked up at him, mesmerized by his uncannily beautiful face.
Minutes passed. Perhaps hours. How much time had passed since I entered the tavern? Hours? Days? I hardly cared.
The young man touched my mask. “Take it off,” he suggested.
I shook my head, grinning up at him.
He grinned back, clearly not offended by my refusal.
His hands moved lightly over my waist, caressing my hips, fingertips dancing over my skin just like they had danced over the strings of the red lute.
My lips were parted, my breathing had quickened. I’d never been so aware of my body. My breasts were tingling. The space between my legs felt heated and more than a little damp. I looked up at the boy, full of an intense longing. I thought of the way I had woken up in my tent. That sense of being bereft and alone.
I didn’t want to feel that way anymore, I realized.
My lips half-parted, my chin tilted up, I lifted my head to his.
I saw his eyes start to widen with understanding. His lips descended.
