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No, not only does he look perfectly calm through the whole precession, he looks regal. Like kneeling on that dais while accepting his new crown is exactly where he was always supposed to be.
When it all dims away, the bows and the applause and the formalities, the vows and the cheers and the traditions, he rises back to his full height, head held high, shoulders thrown back, and for a moment, I hardly recognize him at all.
Then he turns his head, his eyes searching the crowd until they land on me, and he smiles. The kind that brings his entire face to life, and I find myself smiling back.
But then the orchestra music for the first dance begins, and Anya steps up beside him, beaming as she extends her hand.
And he takes it.
As the swell of music and conversation returns to the air, I turn back to Kirby and Monroe, telling myself it’s to pick up where we left off before the ceremony and not because I can’t stand to watch him take her waist, to see how perfect they look together, to see how Anya blends in with this scene far more than I ever will.
Kirby gives a minute shake of her head, but it’s Monroe who says, “Not here.”
It’s the tone of her voice, cold and unfeeling, more than anything else that stops me from asking any follow-up questions. But I do seek out Nathan in the crowd again.
He’s dancing with another girl I don’t know, some vampire from the Auclair estate in a floor-length blue sequined gown, Nathan’s hands blatantly gripping any curve he can reach as they spin in a slow circle.
I can’t help but think of a conversation from a lifetime ago—Avery and I in the pool room before initiation. I’d chalked up her leaving and getting reassigned to some personal difference with Nathan, especially once I saw Monroe all buddy-buddy with him, laughing and calling himNate.
Maybe I should’ve done more. Dug deeper with Avery for more answers. Tried harder to warn Monroe. Tried harder to protect her, even if I didn’t know what I was protecting her from.
The music screeches to a halt as a loud clang echoes through the room, followed by shattering glass. My muscles seize, and I whip my head up to find Reid, but he’s still in the middle of the dance floor, unharmed. Behind him, a vampire in a bloodred suit scolds a human servant, whose face is flushed a near identical shade, head ducked low. His uniform is dripping wet with champagne, and a visibly intoxicated vampire woman staggers to her feet behind him, her golden dress covered in food.
By the looks of it, the spectacle is her fault, but she glares at the human when she rights herself again.
King Auclair shouts something about getting back to the celebration from the dais, a fake smile plastered on his face, and the music starts up again as the servant is escorted from the room, a vampire holding each of his arms.
My teeth grind so hard together I’m sure the people around me can hear it.
“Have you tried these?” Daniel appears on my left as he pops a hors d’oeuvre into his mouth—something that looks like bread and salmon. “I’ve already had six,” he says around his mouthful.
I snort. “You’re late.”
He shrugs, surveying the table behind us for something else to eat. “Not really my scene.”
“Me neither,” I mutter, shifting my weight as my heels cut into the sides of my feet.
“I do, however, enjoy the drama of watching a real-time love story play out.”
“Are you drunk?”
He gives me an unamused look, then nods to the dance floor. “His royal highness has been shooting youlongingandpiningglances all night.”
I roll my eyes, though the words make my face heat.I’vebeen watching Reid all night—for my job, naturally—and I’ve only caught him looking back at me once, something I’ve been mentally scolding myself not to read into all night.
“Now I see why you’re all over here! You’re hiding the food!” Leif bounds up to us, grin covering his entire face, which is still bruised and cut up, but he looks a lot better than the last time I saw him.
“I didn’t know they discharged you,” I say as he heads for whatever Daniel was eating a moment ago.
“They didn’t.” He winks. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Daniel shifts beside me, and my eyes widen. “Sorry. Rude. Leif, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is—”
“Leif.” He extends his hand, eyes locked on Daniel. “Skinwalker, right?”
I realize a beat too late there might be some weird skinwalker-werewolf bad blood scenario about to go down, but Daniel nods as he offers his hand, eyes just as laser-focused on Leif.
Leif ducks his head a little at my questioning glance. “Don’t look at me.Youlet Saint and Jones off their leashes.”
