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Son of the chief commander or not.

Torin’s strides across the ballroom floor were cut short as the doors swung open, revealing her face.

Emara’s face.

His muscles tensed and then relaxed. Artem was at her side, and flanking her other was Breighly. He’d had a feeling that they had somehow ended up crossing paths, and he was not wrong.

But how did Emara fit into that?

He let out a breath and his lungs thanked him.

Emara’s gaze found him instantly, like they were two magnets being pulled across the room to one another. She smiled and her face lit up, causing her magnificent eyes to change, swirling full of charming stars. He tightened his jaw, so that he wasn’t standing in the middle of a room smiling like some sort of lost fool.

So he winked.

He saw that hitch in her breathing, the one he liked to take responsibility for.

“Blacksteel,” Artem’s voice reached him over the stringed instruments that he couldn’t really hear anymore. Not when she was in the room. Not when she was dressed in the tight-fitting mermaid cut dress that hugged every one of her delicious curves. It was a rich violet, and the colour was glorious on her. Her lips were a deep red, so plump and full, her skin glowing and shimmering.

She was so fucking beautiful that it hurt his heart.

“When did you get here?” He didn’t take his eyes from Emara’s.

Breighly answered, “A few hours ago.” He finally looked at her. Her voice sounded suggestive. “You’re welcome.” She patted his shoulder and went to take her leave with a smile full of sin.

“For what?” Torin’s brow pulled down so much that it almost obscured his eyesight.

“You’ll see.” She glanced back over her shoulder before strutting in the direction of the bar.

Odd.

Torin turned back to Emara. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I do,” Artem piped up with an annoying grin.

It was fast, but he caught it. Emara’s foot came out quickly from under her dress and her heel landed in Artem’s boot, right at the front of his big toe.

He hissed.

“Have I missed something?” Torin asked, looking between them. It wasn’t like him to not be able to read between the lines. Had something happened in the hours that he was not on guard? Perhaps the weight of tonight was lying too heavily on his chest for him to get a true feel of what was going on. But he would get to the bottom of it.

“You haven’t missed anything,” Emara said in a way that wasn’t very convincing.

Artem huffed out a sigh after rubbing his foot. “Now that she is with you,” he declared, “I can finally take my leave.”

A nervous laugh escaped Emara’s mouth and Artem moved through the crowd.

“I need a stiff drink,” she declared, her long dark hair waving beautifully at her shoulders as she tried to take her leave.

“And where do you think you are off to?” Torin followed.

She looked flushed as she said, “The bar.”

“Are you stressed?” he asked. “You seem a little stressed.”

Being between Artem and Breighly must have rattled her nerves. But why?

“I am fine.” Her voice was higher than normal.