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It was unfair just how handsome she had become. Her hair had never looked fuller and more lustrous, her muscles the envy of all Alphas. The features I remembered so dearly from childhood had been refined with the effects of a sculptor’s tool.
The scent of her skin—hard, burnt citrus and dark pine—swirled around me, taking my breath away with its assault.
She was not the Zoei I remembered, and yet, in the same moment, there was no denying that I knew the beat of her heart. My fingertips were familiar with the slant of her cheekbones, and my Alpha knew her scent like it was my own. I had cradled her head between my palms more times than I could count, and entwined her fingers with mine, feeling them burn hot as her powers shifted under her skin.
I knew her—knew her, knew her, knew her.
And yet… The Alpha in front of me was the brilliant, impeccable shadow of a stranger.
Her presence commanded the room just like a King should—an intimidating force that elicited a chorus of gasps from the nobility around us.
The urge to flee was a foreign one, but the threat of shame in an enemy’s court kept my feet rooted to the marble floors.
Zoei took two steps backwards and dipped low in a bow. Her right hand angled toward me, palm up—both a question and a command.
A dance?
This was not done. Not here. Perhaps in more advanced courts like Nestia—but in Agnivale, Alphas did not flow in a dance together.
She was testing me. The flint in her eyes was indicative of a challenge.
Do not back down. Do not fucking back down.
Yet my gaze fell. Not very far. It landed on her lips, the tips of her slightly pointed teeth grazing the pout of the abundant lower curve.
Pout? Curve?
Those were decidedly soft words for a hard,hardwoman. Silly words. Stupid words. If she knew they were floating through my mind, she would throw her head back in the evilest chortle known to mankind.
I shouldn’t.
I forced my gaze back to hers. Big mistake. A terrible, horrible error.
She knew. Even without a single word from my own lips, she knew exactly where my thoughts had gone. This infuriating, maddening Alpha was in my head. And I had let her in like a pup that didn’t know the art of masking.
“Take my hand, Olympia,” she challenged, upper lip cocked in a smirk. “Our audience is waiting.”
The new King of Agnivale was a bully. I knew that with unfailing certainty, just as I knew that I was every kind of fool for accepting her offer of a dance.
Begrudgingly, I placed my hand in the cup of her palm, ignoring the shockingly potent spark of my bare skin on hers.
“Good choice,” she murmured, the silk of her voice far softer than any fabric I’d laid across my skin.
But itwasn’ta good choice, nor a smart one. I knew that for a fact when she pulled me closer than was proprietary. Somewhere in the background, the tune of a violin wafted forward, its upbeat notes joined by other grand instruments.
Yet no one moved. Not a single soul parried into a dance around us.
Instead, they waited and watched, their eyes hungry for every fodder of gossip.
“You’re leading,” I said, the words barely hiding a scold as Zoei placed my hands on her shoulders and settled her palms along my waist.
One would assume her touch would be barely noticeable through the corset, but I felt each warm finger as it dug into the cinch of my waist.
“Of course I am,” she said, as though it was silly of me to question it.
“We are both Alphas, Zoei,” I reminded her. “This isn’t right.”
“How so?” The quirk in her brow was exceedingly irritating.
