Page 213 of Starside

I genuinely laugh at something that my partner says, before a song is over. A bite of disappointment pricks at me, that our conversation has finished, even though he’s not one of the alliances I need. He gently spins me away, smile still on my face, and I crash so roughly against a chest that my breath is stolen from my lungs. I fall backward.

A massive hand catches me by the front of my bodice. Callused knuckles smooth down my breasts, long fingers gripping the fabric, pulling me back up.

Right toward a devastating face that has become far too familiar. My eyes widen.

“Don’t look so disappointed, Aris,” Raker says.

He’s not in the mud-crusted armor I last saw him in. No, he’s not in armor at all. He’s in formal wear that he must have stolen. And he’s clean. He must have bathed.

My rush of surprise is smothered by anger.

I can hear the whispers. Feel the eyes on us. I can’t let anyone know that anything is wrong, or he will ruin everything. I plaster a smile on my face and let him take my hand as we blend into the movements.

The demon knows his steps. He must have been watching for a while. We circle each other, my eyes sharp as the blade on my back. His glare is cutting.

It’s like a duel. Instead of metal, our hands meet between us.

“How did you get in here?” I demand through my teeth as he spins me around. He dips me back with an ease that makes me breathless, and that’s when I see one of the guards in the corner. His head falls to the floor.

I gasp as he pulls me up, right into his chest. “You are going to ruin my plan,” I spit, worry bleeding through me. I shake my head, a lock of my hair getting in my face with the movement. “Everyone is looking at you.”

“No,” he says, his grip tightening on my waist and hand. His eyes slip down my dress, then meet mine again. “They’re not.”

They’re not.

I swallow, his words skipping down each vertebra of my spine like a rock thrown onto a river, casting ripples. That’s what he’s doing. The way he’s looking at me, eyes searing in what might just be anger but might also be something else, makes heat spread through me, nerves alighting at his touch. Especially when he carefully tucks that loose lock behind my ear.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my head spinning as we continue the dance. “And how?” He’s been chained to a wall for days. The last time I saw him, the shackles were still locked.

At his silence, realization sets in.

“You could break through those chains this entire time, couldn’t you?” I demand, thinking of all the times I hand-fed him. He must have enjoyed that in his twisted, horrible mind.

Why allow himself to be chained in the first place?

He ignores my second question. “I’m here to watch you play princess,” he says, eyes full of dark mirth. “I can see you were enjoying yourself …” He tilts his head at me, and his gaze sharpens. His voice turns cruel. “Are you that desperate for attention? Do you like having eyes on your bare skin?”

I glare at him. “Not yours,” I snarl as we move as one.

He grips my hand tighter, veins going taut like they do when he holds his sword, swallowing my fingers. He glares back at me. “I’m not a simple fool, distracted by something so ordinary as a woman’s body.”

Ordinary. My hold tightens on his shoulder, my nails digging in, which I hope is painful.

“So, none of these women have caught your attention?”

He blinks. He looks completely serious when he says, “There are other women here?”

Ridiculous bastard.

This is going to end the moment Vander spots him. The moment people realize the four immortal guards securing the perimeter are all dead. He’s ruined it. I take a look around, at this beautiful room, at this beautiful place, at the music.

I can feel his gaze following mine. I hear his huff of disdain.

“Beautiful things do not belong to us,” he says. Us. Humans. Questral challengers, fighting for drops of magic.

“I know,” I say, meaning it. “But I like to look anyway.”

Only then do I realize he has slowly been moving us toward the door. No one else seems to notice. Vander Evren is on the other side of the room, attention completely fixed on a woman in a stunning gold dress. He looks enraptured. And furious. His knuckles are white against his goblet. I almost smile, seeing him so angrily transfixed. I want to see more of this woman who has completely captured his notice, but Raker drags me into the hall.