Page 108 of Slaying the Shifter Prince
And, in doing so, had both won.
Every smile that tore through me at the sheer and glorious pleasure of this dance I gave to him. I let him see the different kind of ferocity in me, the one that said what my tongue had refused to last night.
I danced for Zinnia, but tonight, I also danced for him.
The music soared, and I spun with the hoop. Feet on its lower curve, I went faster, faster, faster, the world a beautiful blur of dark and light, until it crashed into a roaring finale.
Just as Sepher’s magic stilled the hoop, I slid my toes off and let myself drop.
Gasps joined the music.
For a breathless moment, I fell.
Then, with the final booming note, I landed. Back arched over the hoop’s curve, arms spread, toes pointed, I looked like I’d been beautifully broken upon its lower edge.
Thunderous silence rang through the theatre.
I held the pose and Sepher’s gaze. His chest heaved like he was the one who’d just given the performance of his life. His claws were buried in the arm of his chair. For the briefest second, his lip trembled.
Arching my neck fractionally more, I bared my throat to him. His gaze flicked there, and I hoped he understood what it meant.
I lay here, hanging from my hoop, still and splayed, surrendered to him, just as he’d surrendered to me.
His dark brows clenched together.
He knew.
Applause shattered the moment.
I’d forgotten to expect that. I’d forgotten about my audience. About my purpose for the night.
I was his and had been for a short but brilliant while.
Eyelids fluttering, I sucked in a deep breath and woke myself from the spell.
Revenge. I’d promised Zinnia.
I slid backwards from the hoop and snapped my legs down, landing lightly on the table, my back to Sepher. I needed to remember myself and what this night was about, and that would be easier when I wasn’t looking at him.
Bowing, I soaked up the applause and surveyed my suspects. Celestine gave an enthusiastic nod, eyes bright. She didn’t look obsessed, just like a friend who’d enjoyed my performance and was proud of me.
Roark’s gaze trailed over me, enjoying the arch of my back when I straightened and the way it thrust out my tits and arse. Maybe? He did love to look at me.
But then, most of the other fae watched me similarly as I turned and took each of them in, bowing over and over.
Cadan, though. When I reached him, he just stared, eyes round, lips parted, like he’d seen a ghost. The ghost of my sister? Or was it just that he liked me and that was why he’d tried to be kind with the salve?
I couldn’t dwell on him, though, not without looking suspicious.
So, smiling, I turned to give my final bow.
And it was to my prince. He’d earned it. He deserved it. For every defiance, for every instant of malicious compliance. For every time he’d broken me apart. For every cruelty and harsh word. For trying to kill him and for cursing him. For everything he’d given me, good and bad, and for everything I’d refused to give him.
This was the perfect goodbye.
He lifted his chin as though he sensed it too, and his nostrils flared as he scented the air, like he could inhale me one last time. The flicker of a frown crossed his brow, and he glanced to the side as though he expected to find someone else there. But with a small shake of his head, he returned the full weight of his attention to me.
Stiffly, he rose. “That was quite a performance, little bird.” He smiled, and on the surface it looked broad and cocky, but beneath that brittle layer was something soft and tremulous. “We should give you some time to recover. Come”—he gestured to his friends, but his gaze remained on me—“let’s leave her and see if we can find something strong to drink. And maybe, for some of you, someone interesting to fuck.”
