Sandy Williams - The Shadow Reader

He responds with a chuckle.

My descent down the stone steps would be clumsy and awkward in these heels if Aren wasn’t keeping me steady. I manage to make it all the way down with something resembling grace. We wait for a pair of humans to pass before we walk toward Kyol and Lena. Aren stops me about ten paces away.

“Are you okay?” Aren asks Lena. She doesn’t look injured, but she doesn’t look good either. She’s not comfortable being around tech, even tech as simple as a string of lights. Of course, part of that discomfort might be because she’s wearing a dress. It’s a pretty dress, low-cut and . . . Wait a second.

I take a closer look at the familiar chiffon fabric, the soft, pale violet that falls over her slender frame, stopping just an inch above the ground.

I gape at Kyol. “You gave her my dress.”

As a hello, my statement lacks much, but it’s my dress and she’s Lena .

Kyol’s eyes shift to me, soften, and then turn to steel when he looks back at Aren.

Aren doesn’t hold back, though. He laughs out loud. “I’m going to miss you, my nalkin-shom .”

The night grows quiet as the music from the ballroom suddenly ends. Someone, a drunk cousin of the bride or groom most likely, takes over the microphone, calling for a toast. The humans in the gardens start to make their way inside. Only one couple lingers. They’re sitting on the fountain lost in deep kisses.

“Let’s do this,” Kyol says, unlocking a bracelet of silver from around Lena’s wrist.

Aren squeezes my arm. At first, I don’t think he’s going to let go. I contemplate trying to struggle free, but the couple at the fountain stands. I don’t want to draw their attention.

“Walk to him,” he says finally.

I keep an eye on Lena as we start toward each other. She does the same, her expression much more hate-filled than mine. She’s not wearing any shoes. Lucky. I wish I weren’t.

A woman giggles. I glance toward the fountain in time to see the couple run deeper into the garden instead of to the ballroom. They disappear around a high hedge, leaving me and the three fae alone.

“Go,” Aren says the moment they’re out of sight.

Lena opens a fissure and winks out of this world. Then, suddenly, Aren is back at my side, his arm around my waist.

“Jorreb,” Kyol growls out. His hand goes to his hip, where, if he were armed, his sword would be hanging.

“Relax, Taltrayn. If I was going to back out of our deal, I’d have my people take her at the gate. We agreed on a midnight exchange. It’s not yet midnight, and McKenzie has a wedding to attend.”

Technically , it’s a reception and, technically , Aren has no freaking idea what time it is. The days and nights are longer in the Realm than they are here, and he’s certainly not wearing a watch. It could be after twelve now.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“I’m being selfish.”

He’s brave as hell, turning his back on Kyol like this. I peer over my shoulder as Aren leads me toward the mansion. Kyol is right behind us, a predator one second away from springing on his prey.

“Midnight,” I tell him quickly. “It’s okay. Really.”

Only a pane of glass separates us from the humans inside, and Kyol knows how much I hate the fae causing scenes in my real life. If he fights Aren now, people will come running. But he doesn’t seem to hear my words. His gaze locks on the back of Aren’s head as he balls his left hand into a fist.

“Hey, McKenzie,” Paige calls out.

Kyol freezes. I slowly turn to see her standing at the top of the stairs.

“You doing all right out here?” she asks, her blue eyes darting between Aren and Kyol. She looks more curious than worried.

“Um, I’m great,” I say. Aren gives a short chuckle at my side.

Paige’s lips quirk up. “There’s a guy who wants to meet you, but if you already have two men fighting over you . . .”

“I’d love to meet him.” I try to pull away from Aren, but he won’t let go.

“She’s occupied,” he says. He’s angled toward me now, and even though he’s still looking in Paige’s direction, I’m sure he’s aware of the sword-master. He’s not going to change his mind on this.

I turn back to Kyol. “Midnight. Please?”

His gaze drops to my face, and a chaos luster bolts across his clenched jaw. I hold my breath, praying he’ll listen. He has no reason to trust Aren—I don’t have much of one either—but I think he’ll keep his word. If Kyol will just be patient . . .

“Midnight,” he says, his tone a clear warning. “I won’t let you out of my sight.”

I give him a weak smile as a thank-you, but Aren’s already pulling me up the stone steps. When we reach the top patio, I kick off my high heels. I’m tired of the damn things making me unsteady.

“Occupied, huh?” Paige asks, eyeing Aren’s arm around my waist and not even trying to hide her grin. “I’ll just tell Lee he’ll have to meet you another day.”

“I can meet him n—”

“Thank you,” Aren cuts me off. “She appreciates that.”

“No problem,” Paige says. I give her a glare but she just responds with a shrug. Honestly, sometimes I question her sanity. After all, she has to be a little crazy to have put up with my quirks for eight years.

Aren’s arm drops lower around my waist as he leads me inside the ballroom. I can’t see Kyol, but I know he’s watching.

“You’re being an ass,” I say.

Aren’s single-shouldered shrug is full of fake innocence. “We had a deal. I’m honoring it.”

Fuming, I grab a flute of champagne off a passing waitress’s tray and down it while everyone else is still clinking glasses to Drunk Guy’s toast. The music starts up again when I set the glass aside.

“Dance with me, nalkin-shom ,” Aren says, leading me toward the dance floor.

“That’s hardly appropriate.”

Predictably, he ignores me, and I find myself pressed close to him, surrounded by humans in the middle of an immaculate ballroom. Aren holds me close and mimics the movements of the people around us. I’ve seen fae dance before. They don’t do it like this, swaying back and forth with no space between their bodies.

“This is ridiculous, Aren. I’m not Cinderella at a ball. And this . . . this isn’t going to win my support, not even my sympathy. I won’t—”

He places a finger over my lips. “I forget my responsibilities when I’m with you. It’s nice. Peaceful.” His hand slides behind my neck, beneath my hair. He plays with the clasp of my necklace. “I wish you’d let yourself forget things when you’re with me. You’d be happier.”

My heart thumps. I bite my lower lip, trying to erase the tingle the touch of his finger caused. I can’t do anything about the lightning shooting down my spine, not unless I want to squirm and draw attention.

I swallow and scan the ballroom, looking for a clock. I find one high up on the nearest wall. It’s huge and ornate with a frame of gilded roses. Its gold minute hand is only a few ticks away from midnight, thank God. I can’t last much longer. Kyol can’t either. He’s standing there beneath the clock. I can see the battle inside him, his struggle to balance my request for patience with his desire to get me away from Aren. Aren’s roving hands are making this so much worse than it needs to be.

“ Are you trying to piss him off?”

He follows my line of sight. “He doesn’t like me touching you, does he?”

“ I don’t like you touching me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He smiles and, damn it, I flush with heat. The hand he splays against my bare back burns pleasantly and my knees seem to be weakening. My arms are wrapped around Aren’s shoulders. We’re too close. I should shove away.