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“Anything, Leo. Say anything. You aren’t just a shadow with me.”
He swallowed, and I watched his throat bob as his eyes danced along my exposed collarbone, the way my breasts were pushed up, and the tight accentuation of my hips in my gown. “It’s safer to be a shadow, Christine.”
I walked up to him, my dress ruffling with every move. All you could hear in the room was the sound of fabric shifting and both our heavy breaths. Once we were toe to toe, I looked up at the handsome guard, with his royal uniform on and his blond hair pulled back into a clean ponytail.
“Shadows can’t touch, Leo,” I whispered before running my hands over his shoulders. “They can’t kiss…” I leaned in and brushed my lips over his, taunting both of us with that invisible line in the sand that we’d both drawn. “Shadows don’t love.” I pressed my palm to his chest, right over his heart. I could feel the way it beat wildly just for me. “You can hover in the background all you want, but I’ll always see you, Leo. Even with this ring on my hand. Even with the pain of our past. You make me feel safe. You pick me up when I’m broken. Don’t hide from me. I can handle a lot of things, but I can’t handle that.”
He reached for my cheek, and I leaned into the feel of his rough hands on my skin, my eyes fluttering closed as I melted against him. There was something so incredibly warm about this cold guard. Something that brought me relief even in my most vulnerable moments. I knew any future between us would be impossible, but I couldn’t walk away.
“Shadows are always there,” he whispered. “And I’d rather follow you around, protecting you, than be banished again. It’s a price I’ll happily pay for the rest of my days, Christine. This is a line I won’t cross, because I can’t lose access to your life, and I don’t trust your future husband or Atticus not to rip me away for getting too close.”
I furrowed my brow. “Leo…”
“We must go.”
He dropped his hand, and an emotionless expression fell on his face like an anvil, striking away the adoration he was showing me just moments before.
“We will discuss this later,” I said.
He didn’t respond.
I walked down the carpeted staircase, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. But it wasn’t their intrusive stares that made my neck flush. It was the whispered words ricocheting like rogue bullets between them.
“I could never marry such a wild woman. A lady should be tamed.”
“I think she’s lovely. Did you see the way she tossed that blade? She was fierce.”
“I think Augustus will get bored of her soon enough. A man with power like his wants a submissive wife, not an unpredictable brute.”
At the base of the stairs, I scanned the open space, looking for August. And when the crowd parted, he took a step forward toward me.
August looked handsome but too polished, too constructed for his normal self. If we were another couple with different obligations, we might have celebrated our engagement on a private beach with a bonfire and comfortable clothes. We would have walked along the shore hand in hand while whispering about the future.
Maybe one day we’d have that reality.
Around us, everything was decorated emerald green, echoing my engagement ring. Women wore their best dresses, while men picked custom suits embroidered with their self-importance. A string quartet was up on the stage, waiting for me to put my hand in his and start our dance.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered for only me to hear.
“I’m uncomfortable,” I admitted.
He took me in his arms and positioned our bodies for a dance. “So am I. They’re all looking, aren’t they?”
The music started. “Of course they are.”
“Then I suppose we should put on a nice show so Vicky doesn’t murder us in our sleep.”
I laughed and he guided me around the dance floor, his feet more skilled than I remembered. He lacked the confidence of a skilled dancer, but he seemed determined to move with proud purpose, moving us by sheer grit.
I scanned the crowd nervously, searching for familiar faces and finding none. “Looking for Atticus?” he murmured in my ear before dipping me.
“Is he here?” Just as the question left my lips, I saw him enter the ballroom and adjust his bowtie. He was breathing hard and had an angry scowl on his face. Behind him, Isabelle entered, too. But where Atticus was feral fury, she looked…
She looked terrified.
I furrowed my brow. “Something wrong?” August asked before spinning me. When I collided with his chest again, my left foot stumbled. But he caught me before I fell, though the gasp and whispers traveling throughout the crowd let me know my misstep didn’t go unnoticed.
“I just saw your mother walk in with Atticus.”
