Page 89 of A House of Gold
"I'm not asking you." Seraph's silver eyes stay fixed on mine. "I'm asking her. Well? Will you dance, little sin eater? Or are you too afraid?"
It's a challenge. A test. And refusing would be showing weakness.
I stand. "One dance."
Croesus's hand catches my wrist. "Raven..."
"It's fine." I pull free gently. "One dance won't kill me."
His eyes blaze with something that looks like fury, but he lets me go.
Seraph leads me to the center of the room where a space has cleared. Music starts from nowhere, string instruments, elegant and old-fashioned. He takes my hand, places his other hand on my bare back, and I realize this was a mistake.
His touch is cold. Perfect. And when we start to move, it's effortless. He leads, and my body follows like we've danced a thousand times before.
"You broke my contract," he says pleasantly, as if discussing the weather. "Claire is recovering nicely, by the way. Impressive showing."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm not complimenting you. I'm assessing you." He spins me, pulls me back. "You're stronger than you look. Braver than you should be. And Croesus is utterly besotted with you."
"He's not, I assure you."
"Please." Seraph's laugh is cold. "I've known him for three thousand years. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Like you're the only thing in the room worth noticing. It's almost...romantic. If angels were capable of romance."
"What's your point?"
"My point?" He leans closer, his breath cold against my ear. "Is that in less than a year, you'll belong to me. And I'm very curious to see if you survive the transition. Croesus is possessive, but at least his sin is predictable. I, on the other hand, will expect perfection. And you, little sin eater, are beautifully, perfectly flawed."
The way he says it makes it sound like both an insult and a promise.
"I'll survive," I say.
"Will you? We'll see." He spins me one more time, then stops. "Thank you for the dance. I look forward to our year together."
He releases me. I'm standing alone in the center of the room, every eye watching, when Croesus appears. He doesn't ask. Just takes my hand, pulls me into his arms, and we're moving before I can protest.
His touch is warm. Possessive. The complete opposite of Seraph's cold perfection.
"Are you alright?" His voice is low, tight with controlled anger.
"I'm fine. He was just being an asshole."
"Marking you. Staking his claim on what he'll receive when your year with me ends." His hand presses into my bare back, fingers splaying across skin. "I should have forbidden it."
"I can handle one dance with an arrogant angel."
"Can you handle six more years of this? Six more angels, each one more dangerous than the last?" He pulls me closer, and we're barely moving now. Just swaying in place while the music plays around us. "You don't know what they're capable of. What they'll do to someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"Someone who makes them feel things. You made me feel things I thought I'd forgotten. What do you think you'll do to them?"
I don't have an answer for that.
The music ends. The moment breaks. But Croesus doesn't release me. Just stands there, holding me in the middle of the room, golden eyes burning with something I can't name.
"Come with me," he says finally. "I need air."
