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We spun through the night,and I was amazed to find that I wasn’t filled with regret or sorrow. There was nothing familiar about this place—nothing to make me feel guilty for finally smiling since Rosey passed away.
It was all too easy to forget everything back at the capital while swinging around and around with Siobhan and Vander and even miserable Arson.
Finally, I stepped away from the dance floor, panting, sweat beading on my brow. My smile was so wide it hurt my face, and I pressed my hand to my chest to catch my breath.
Then, I shivered as I felt a pair of eyes burning into me.
When I lifted my gaze, I found Scion’s intense silver stare across the room. He was in midconversation with Cross, yet it seemed like his attention solely lay on me—too focused to be coincidental.
For a moment, I forgot about everything that had come before this night—the pain, the loss—and focused on nothing but the present moment.
A sudden jolt of adrenaline shot through my veins, and I felt a flutter deep in my stomach. My heart raced as a spark of anticipation ignited in me.
The mark on my neck seemed to pulse. Not pain exactly, but awareness.That’s one of the most blatant claimings I’ve ever seen.
I should not like that. Should not be interested in what it meant…especially since it would not, could not, mean anything.
But as our eyes met across the room, all I could think was that all I needed to do was ask.
37
SCION
THE CUTTHROAT DISTRICT, INBETWIXT
“Are you listening, mate?”
I looked sideways at Cross and blinked a few times before taking a sip of the drink in my hand. No, I wasn’t listening, and the bastard fucking knew it. “Fuck off.”
We were sitting on the bar rather than at it, as Cross liked to watch his whole flock at all times, and I had no desire to join in with this…mess.
Cross wore an expression of wild delight as his gaze roved over the room. I hadn’t been present at such a raucous gathering since my early days in the military, yet I still found it too boisterous for my taste. Cross, however, seemed to thrive on the frenzy.
It seemed that Lonnie did as well.
My eyes found her among the dancers, knowing exactly where she would be. If only by accident, I’d memorized the pattern of this stomping sea shanty so that every time I looked up, I found her immediately, skipping in a circle with the safecracker.
“Is she safe with Siobhan?” I asked abruptly.
Cross scoffed. “Safer than she would be with you.”
Truer words were never spoken.
My friend turned away from watching the room and focused on me. “I was going to say congratulations this morning, but you both ran off so quickly.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He nodded at the dance floor. “She’s not being all that subtle with that mark. I should’ve known she was your mate when you were acting like a fucking lunatic.” He grinned. “I’m happy for you.”
His words stirred something in my chest, and a strange combination of feelings rushed over me. Dread, mainly, as well as a mix of exhilaration and alarm.
Had I not uttered a similar sentence to Bael just days ago? He was practically unhinged when I saw him last, and I’d most certainly accused him of lunacy over this same damn woman.
Only now, my muscles tensed, and it was as if my chest swelled with a strange, primal urge to give her even more marks to show off. The thought kept slamming at the back of my mind, trying to force its way out of my mouth.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to utter the correct words—the ones I knew I needed to say but felt too close to a lie to be entirely comfortable. “This is…not what it appears,” I struggled to say. “She’s not my mate.”
When I could say the words with no pain in my throat, I realized there was a trace of regret. Disappointment.
