Page 152 of In Violent Waves

His brow lowered over his bright eyes, casting them in shadow. “Doing what?”

“Being nice. I—hurt you,” she muttered, looking anywhere but at him.

“Everyone deserves kindness, Lyra.”

She nodded, biting her lip and staring at the surrounding dancers again. The colors of their attire were like a painting—they were so vivid—and their movements mimicked a painter’s strokes.

“Care for another dance?” Wilder asked.

Lyra whipped her head to his and saw a flicker of emotion cross his eyes. Behind him, Aine and Oberon watched them from their thrones.

“Please.”

Wilder scooped her up, and they set off again, this time at a much quicker pace.

“What is this dance called?”

“A waltz,” he replied, close enough to her ear that a shiver wracked her body.

Lyra pressed herself closer to him and could hear the groan come from the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry. For what I said at the cottage,” she said. She missed him. More than she ever imagined missing anything. He felt like home to her.

Wilder froze, and dancers had to spin out of control to keep from colliding with him.

But she had wanted to tell him the moment she had said those cruel words, and now was as good a time as any.

“I was frightened by what I was feeling, and I lashed out.”

He shook his head and took a step back. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

“You were right. You don’t belong?—”

She felt the stab to her heart as if a dagger had pierced through her flesh, muscles, and bones.

The pain burned up through her throat, constricting it and making speech difficult.

“I see,” Lyra snapped, raising her chin to keep her lip from trembling.

“We’re from different worlds,” Wilder clarified, trying to assuage her obvious misery. “It was just a truce.”

She nodded, but her eyes turned glassy from the tears threatening to fall.

“May I cut in?” Otto asked, appearing beside Lyra with his hand outstretched.

He looked regal in a jacket of burgundy that made his white skin seem silver.

“Of course,” Lyra replied, taking his hand in hers.

“Lyra—” Wilder began.

But she cut him off. “It’s done.”

She set off in a waltz with Otto, but no matter how much she concentrated, she couldn’t quite find her footing as she had with Wilder.

“Are you having a pleasant time?” Otto asked. A small smile graced his thin lips.