I tilted my head up to whisper into his ear. “Everyone is the enemy. That’s what’s funny.”

“I’ve seen you survive worse odds.”

The force of the next spin flung me against him, the speed of the music forcing me to keep up. The pace was frantic, exhausting, but I wasn’t about to surrender.

His fingers played at that little dip in my spine, right where my skin met the fabric, as if trying to stop himself from sliding beneath it. I could feel it in the strain of his muscles that I knew better than to think was from exertion alone—no, Raihn was strong. Moving was nothing for him.

Holding himself back, though? That was hard.

And worst of all, I knew he sensed it in me, too. The same desire that he’d brought to the surface of my skin the night he had touched my wings, and the night I had tasted his blood.

And that, I knew, was what drove him wildest of all, earning the lust in his eyes, the flare of his nostrils.

“So should I be afraid?” he murmured, the smile fading on his lips. “Are you going to kill me, princess?”

An echo of the past. A shade of the future.

I thought of Septimus’s offer.

It would be so easy, to drag Raihn to a dark corner of this crowded ballroom, kiss him, drag his hand between my legs, let him feel my desire for him. I could take him away. Let him slide this dress off my body. Let him spear me against the wall, fuck me while I sank my teeth into his throat to dull my screams.

And what a distraction it would be, when I buried the knife strapped to my upper thigh into his chest. Right where I did it last time.

It would be the perfect time to make a move, with all the power of the Rishan here to be slaughtered.

The music rose to its crescendo. I leaned close so he could hear me over the roar. “I already did. I don’t know why you keep giving me chances.”

The room was so loud, his voice so low, and yet I heard nothing but his words: “I’d spend a lifetime at the tip of your blade, and it would have been worth it.”

I blinked. Something in his voice snapped me out of the haze of our flirtatious game. I pulled away just enough to look at him, a question on my lips, even though I couldn’t articulate exactly what it was.

But Raihn just smirked at me. “Grand finale. Ready?”

The music was deafening now, throbbing in every curve of my body, drowning out words and thoughts. Before I could protest, he launched me into the finale of the dance, and I was in too deep now to let us falter here—my pride, if nothing else, dictated that. The end was frenetic and savage, and I threw myself into it with all the fury of our battles—and just like he had the final night of the Kejari, he met every step, never faltering.

And in the end, I was back in his arms, inches from falling before he caught me, my back arched in a graceful dip.

The last notes of the song swelled through the ballroom. My breath was heavy. Raihn’s hand was planted firmly between my shoulder blades, mine around his neck. A few loose strands of his hair tickled my cheek.

Everyone was staring at us.

As the rush faded, it sank in what we must look like.

“That was stupid,” I said. “Cairis will be pissed at both of us.”

Raihn grinned. It was such a disarmingly pure expression, like it didn’t belong in a place like this at all. “So what? Let them talk.”

He helped me back to my feet, but the movement was a little off-balance. He half-stumbled as he straightened. I caught his shoulder to steady him.

“Took that much out of you?” I muttered. “You’re out of shape.”

“Maybe more than I thought.”

But I couldn’t keep the wrinkle from my brow. I left my hand on his arm. He was swaying slightly—I could feel it, even if it wasn’t visible. Was he drunk? Raihn was a big man. That would take a lot of alcohol, far more than I’d seen him drink tonight.

“Are you alright?” I whispered.

He hesitated before shooting me another easy smile. “Perfect.”

I pulled my hand away and stepped back. Raihn did the same, assuming, once again, his role of Nightborn King. It was such a smooth transition, such a perfectly rendered disguise, that no one else would notice the slight stumble in his next step, nor the flicker of confusion across his face.

But I did.

I started to follow him, but Cairis swooped in. He, unsurprisingly, looked irritated.

“Excuse me, Highness. I need to speak with you.”

With a firm hand on Raihn’s shoulder, he ushered him away. A protest caught in my throat—even though I didn’t know why I wanted to stop him, or what made me so uneasy.

Even if I’d gotten the words out, it wouldn’t have mattered. The crowd swallowed them immediately, and Raihn didn’t look back.

39

RAIHN

Maybe Oraya was right, and I was more out of shape than I’d thought, because that dance had taken more out of me than it should have. For those few minutes, the rest of the party had become a blur, time and music and the sounds of the crowd fading to a distant din. How could it not, when I was so singularly focused on her?

But when Cairis led me away, that feeling lingered. My thoughts were fuzzy and slow, a half step behind. When I looked around and realized that we’d left the ballroom, wandering outside under the cooling night air, I startled a little. I didn’t even remember walking through the rest of the party.

Cairis was saying something, but I’d managed to miss whatever it was.

“Wait.” I held up a hand, then pinched the bridge of my nose. “I—go back. I’m sorry. What are we talking about?”

He let out a small laugh.

“One dance with her and you can’t even think straight anymore, hm?” His voice lowered. “I told you to be careful about that.”

My head was suddenly throbbing. I didn’t especially feel like being scolded.

“I’m allowed to dance with my wife,” I said shortly. “What did you want to talk to me about? I have things to do.”

I imagined Oraya in that ballroom, surrounded by vampire pricks who’d just found a new reason to be interested in her. Suddenly the image of Simon standing over her, his hand on her arm, was infuriatingly vivid.

Cairis’s mouth thinned as he cast a disapproving glance back to the party, light spilling from the open doors and multi-paned windows. The entrance was farther away than I remembered it being—when did we walk this far?

He sighed. “That’s the problem, Raihn. You think we’re all stupid.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. When I turned back to Cairis, brow furrowed in confusion, my eyes struggled to focus on his face. I couldn’t get the sharp rebuke out of my mouth.

“Surely you must think more of my intelligence than that,” he was saying, hands tucked into his pockets, eyes drawn to the ground. “You keep saying that she’s just a prisoner. But I’m not blind. And no one else is, either. Everyone knows.” His gaze lifted to me, a wrinkle between his brows. “It’s sweet, Raihn. But it wasn’t just you who sacrificed for this.”

His voice sounded like he was underwater. The world tilted, the stars behind him smearing against the sky.

I opened my mouth to argue with him, ready to unleash the appropriate verbal storm of a disrespected Nightborn king, but instead, a sudden wave of dizziness had me falling back against a stone wall, barely catching myself.

He caught my shoulder. “Are you feeling alright?”

No.

The truth solidified through my sluggish thoughts.

This wasn’t alcohol or exertion. Something was very wrong.

I forced my head up to look at Cairis, expecting confusion or concern on his face.

Instead, what I saw was pity.

Guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low. “I just can’t go back to the way it was, Raihn. I can’t stay with you until that happens. I just—I can’t. I need to pick a winner. You have to understand that.”