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“You.”
“Yes?”
“You, I remember you.”
He twirled around, his hold on me forced me to go with him. The faces of those around us spun by, his eyes found mine. Holding them as he asked, “Oh? Have we met before?”
I glared at him, my strange dance partner. “Yes.”
“Hmm, I do not recall such a meeting. Are you sure?”
Now I was getting irritated. Questioning myself, my own memory. Questioning. . . if it had actually happened. “I’m sure.”
“What else do you remember then, Princess?”
What else did I remember? What else was there, there was something, something important. It was a couple more turns around the ballroom before something caught my attention. Something in the back of my mind screaming at me, a voice I did not realize was there- it was not my own.
Yes. . . yes that’s right.Fear me, love me, do as I say. You know what it is that you seek.
“I-I remember you stole something from me.”
His smile turned wicked as his eyes flashed. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” I hissed back at him.
“And just what would that be?” He leaned in close enough that my heart began to race wildly. His scent washes over me again, calming every tense nerve and muscle. Smoke, citrus and evergreen. His breath was warm on my ear, sending fireworks through my body.
I’d forgotten how to speak, what it was I sought.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Well, then how can you be so sure? You accuse so easily.”
“I just am.”
“Are you now?” He was toying with me, this strange male. I knew him, but I could not place him.
“Hmmm. . .” He spun me before he pulled me back to him, his hand grazed my lower back. The touch sent a burning fire up and down my spine. A pleasurable sensation, unlike the one Kaston left, his hand soft and light as it grounded me. But even as his fingers traced up my spine, he went on whispering in my ear, “if you are so certain, if you are so sure of yourself that we’ve met before. If you are convinced that I have stolen from you, then humor me won’t you?”
I stared back at him, hesitant to even continue this conversation. I nodded, my lips pursed. “Fine.”
The rumble in his chest was deep, a growl that forced itself up before he asked, “Play a game with me?”
“A game?”
“Yes, a game Princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He chuckled but it was soft, light even, “A game. To retrieve what it is you accuse me of taking from you.” His eyes darkened under his mask. I felt my face heat as my heart continued to thunder away in my chest. Screaming, yelling, telling me to say no.
To walk away. Torun away.
His grin turned feral as I finally realized who he was.
Whathe was.
Hewas the Goblin King.
