Page 20 of The Last Guardian

I opened my mouth, ready to speak, but he moved before I could say a word.

Without even looking at me, he leaped from the balcony to the one below with an agility I’d never seen in anyone before—almost feline. Zaidkiel disappeared inside.

My mind froze. The only thing going through my mind was the tattoo I had seen. My body was no longer responding to me.

Stuck.

Because what I had seen, the tattoo on the back of his hand—the design…

It was identical to the mark etched on my own skin.

“PLEASE KILL ME before I have to endure another week like this,” Dorian pleaded as we faced the dance in the middle of the ballroom.

The ballroom buzzed; I’d never seen so many lights in one place. A tapestry of sound quivered in the room. The rich trill of the violins mingled with the light melody of the flutes thrummed beneath my skin, begging me to join the dance.

Dancers swayed together in a whirl of colors; steps rose and fell in rhythm. Swirling gowns sparkled in the light, waving with each gracious step.

Even with the few glasses of sparkling wine I had already drunk, I wasn’t in the mood to dance. My mind was still stuck on the mark.

On Zaidkiel’s tattoo.

A knot had formed in my stomach since I had left the balcony, unable to let go of the patterns dancing on his sun-kissed skin. With a deep breath, I focused on the people dancing, trying to chase away the thoughts of the man or his tattoo.

Aurora danced with Asael, dressed in a breathtaking ivory-and-pink gown that draped across her. Her long golden curls floated in the air.

“The week isn’t over yet,” I said in a sarcastic tone to Dorian, holding up my glass.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Dorian sighed, rolling his eyes. He searched the room and asked, “Where’s Romy?”

“She’s in bed, feeling a bit unwell,” I responded with a sip.

Dorian shot me a knowing look, arching a brow. “She reads poetry, doesn’t she?”

“She claims it helps with fevers.” I chuckled into my cup.

Dorian scoffed, shaking his head. ”That girl would marry a verse if it whispered the right metaphor to her.”

“She’s the clever one, though,” I whispered, gazing at the dancefloor, “hiding in the depths of ink and silence while we schmooze with the empire’s elite.”

Dorian looked around the room and whispered, “You say that like you don’t know how to hide.” When I didn’t answer, he added, “Just because you’re here physically doesn’t mean you’re not hiding.” His eyes narrowed at me as I glared at him, pretending not to understand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around whenever you’re ready to talk, sister,” he said before kissing my cheek. He looked me in the eye before saying, “Try to enjoy the dance.”

Dorian approached a young woman with dark hair sitting on a bench. She smiled at him; he leaned towards her and invited her to dance, his smile cocky. She giggled and accepted his hand.

By the stars, he certainly knew how to use his charm.

I sipped from my glass when goosebumps coursed through me in cold waves. I glanced to the other side of the ballroom and met Haedeon’s gaze in an instant. My breath stopped.

The High Mage watched me carefully from the platform next to my father. He scanned me as his tongue rolled over his lips.

Ugh. Why did he have to be like this?

His behavior didn’t exactly make me want to go see him about the mark… But after what I had seen on Zaidkiel today, did I have a choice?

“Finally, I’ve found you,” said Lyra’s voice behind me as she put her arm around mine.

“You look stunning,” I murmured, catching the side of her attire.

A velvet burgundy dress clung to her curves with exquisite grace, slit up to her left thigh. Her long curls cascaded down her back. Her lips were tinted red, curling into a beautiful smile. Lyra’s gaze wandered to the ballroom.