Page 87 of Demon's Bane

“Little mate,” he murmurs when he’s close enough that only I can hear. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t carry you out of this hall right now so no one else has the privilege of seeing you in that damned gown.”

The deep timbre of his voice, the heat of the grip he places on my hips, the intoxicating wave of scent that hits me—pine and leather and woodsmoke—all of it almost makes me give in.

I could loop my arms around his neck, lean in and whisper to him, tell him to take me somewhere private and dark where we could…

“Dance with me?” I ask instead.

My resolve falters again when Rhett slides a hand up my spine and into the curls at the nape of my neck, then settles the other on my bare lower back.

“You want to dance?”

There are other demons looking our way now, heads swiveling in the periphery of my vision. But it might just be Rhett and I alone in the hall for all I care.

“Yes.”

Rhett’s smile is wide and warm and goes all the way to his eyes. “Of course I’ll dance with you, Joan.”

Despite his warning about not wanting anyone else to see me, Rhett seems to almost be showing me off as he takes my hand and leads me toward the dance floor. When we navigate ourselves into the middle of all the couples waiting for the next song to begin, he swirls me into him with an uncharacteristic flourish, eyes dancing with laughter at my surprised gasp.

“They’re all looking at you, little mate,” he murmurs into my ear, placing one hand on the middle of my back and holding the other in his in something resembling a waltz position.

“They are not,” I whisper back. “They’re probably looking at you.”

Rhett just chuckles and shakes his head, but I mean, come on. It’s almost unfair how handsome he looks right now.

Eren must have hooked him up just like Allie did for me, because the black pants and jacket he’s wearing fit his broad frame to perfection. He’s had a shave, and even his hair looks like it’s been trimmed and styled, falling in more orderly chaos than usual.

The music starts, a group of musicians in the corner of the room breaking into a sweeping, graceful tune, and Rhett’s hold on me tightens.

“You know how to dance?” I tease as he spins us into the fray with all the other couples.

“You’re surprised?”

“No. I just… where did you learn to dance?”

A brief cloud passes over his expression, but he clears it with a small shake of his head. “When I was living in Gales Harbor, I spent a lot of time in dance halls. I had some good teachers there.”

I arch a brow. “Did you?”

“I did. Though I can’t seem to remember a single one now.” He looks me up and down, red eyes glowing with barely banked heat. “I can’t remember anything but you, Joan. You and this dress and how beautiful you look tonight. I won’t forget it for as long as I live.”

Something in the center of my chest twists and tightens, crawling up my throat until I can barely breathe around it.

“I could say the same for you.”

My breath catches as Rhett whirls me into a turn and lifts me completely off my feet, brushing his lips over my forehead as he draws me close. The soft touch sends a cascade of magick through my blood, my soul, every bit as bright and glittering as the splendor of the ball around us.

26

Rhett

“Ready to go?”

It’s after midnight, and the raucous crowd in the great hall is finally beginning to thin.

Joan’s cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, her face shining with the hall’s candlelight and whatever witchcraft went into her dress and the sparkles that seem to be part of her skin itself.

I can’t look away.