Page 27 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs (Haven Ever After #8)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CATHERINE

T his place is incredible. String lights hung across the cavernous arched ceiling illuminate caged dancers hanging above the crowd.

The dance floor itself is packed with young and old, dancing, laughing, drinking.

It’s merriment at its finest. About half of the monsters are short- or long-horned minotaurs, but the rest seem to be a healthy mix, like in Ever.

Manorin guides me to a free spot on the dance floor and slides his hand flat between my shoulder blades. With his free hand, he brings one of my arms up around his neck and the other to rest over his heart.

The first bit of light pressure at my back serves as a guide, even as he steps toward me. And then, in a rush of movement, we’re spinning and swirling across the dance floor. Manorin’s crimson eyes barely leave mine. He looks up just enough to keep us from hitting other dancers.

And I am lost .

Lost to the ease with which he moves me around the dance floor .

Lost to the sultry way he stares at me, like nobody exists but me.

Lost to the fun and joy he brings to my life simply by being himself.

I stare up at him in wonder and awe as he leads me through one song and into the next and the next and the next.

I’m falling for him, again. Hard and fast, and I don’t think I could stop it if I tried. But instead of worrying about it, I embrace it as we dance around the floor, our bodies moving easily together. Comfortable. Secure.

I’m safe with him. And I didn’t think I’d be willing to give in to that feeling after Wesley. Allowing someone else in. But Manorin weaseled his way right back into my heart as if he’d never left.

One song becomes two and ten and fifteen, until something catches his eye, and he grins over my shoulder. Halting us, he takes my hand and guides me off the dance floor. Standing at the edge are Betmal and Amatheia. The mermaid female hops up and down, clapping as she beams at us.

“My gods, Catherine, you two are fabulous dancers! I’m so jealous that I don't know a single dance move.”

Betmal’s crimson eyes wrinkle at the corners as he smiles down at his mate. “And yet your rhythm is perfect, ma sirène.” She blushes up at him.

I pull them both into a big hug, delighted to see friends here. When we part, Betmal smiles at me.

“I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me to ask if either of you planned to attend this weekend’s festivities. I wanted Ama to experience it for herself as we’re working on Pine Gulch’s new welcome book.”

Manorin reaches out to shake the vampire’s hand. “Can’t wait to see what you come up with. I was thrilled to learn that someone was finally redoing them. Evenia didn’t seem too happy about the announcement when it came out, but then, she’s not happy about much.”

I keep my mouth shut on that one, but Betmal laughs. He and I have talked about this topic before. Nobody would like to see a replacement for Evenia more than the two of us. I’ve got ideas about it and I fully intend to pass those by him at my earliest convenience.

“No, she’s not. Good thing I don’t have to pretend to care anymore.” He winks as he slides a hand around Amatheia’s waist, curling his fingers into the scale-patterned skin of her hip.

He smiles at me. “Listen, Ama and I are going to lunch-time karaoke tomorrow just before the running of the steers. Why don’t you two meet us? It’ll be a good time.”

I look uncertainly up at Manorin. “I’m not sure what our plans are for tomorrow…”

He grins down at me. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you belt out a few songs, Cath.”

I fluff my hair, grinning at Amatheia. “Once upon a time, I was a pretty good singer.”

“Coach, that you?” a deep voice breaks through the din of the crowd.

I glance toward it to find Hadrian Alkazar—the Protector Academy’s star player—walking toward us with a hand reaching toward Manorin.

Nor grabs the skyball prodigy’s hand and shakes it vigorously. “Alk, how’s it goin’, kid?”

The tall, muscular gargoyle blushes a dark purple as he dips his head respectfully at Ama and me. “All good, Coach. Doing a little sightseeing in one of my favorite havens.”

I risk a glance at Manorin, but I know neither of us believe that story. Hadrian’s likely here being wined and dined by the Punishers’ coach.

Manorin gestures at the other Evertons. “Hadrian, this is Betmal of House Zeniphon, and, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…”

Ama blushes deeply but holds out a hand for Hadrian’s. “Amatheia, also of House Zeniphon.”

Betmal shoots me a wicked, pleased grin before turning the smile on Hadrian. “My mate, of course.”

Hadrian flashes a toothy grin at our group. “Looks like I interrupted y’all in the middle of dancing, and I’m not one to stop monsters from having fun. I’m gonna do a little tour around. I was supposed to be meeting a friend here, but I don’t see him yet.”

“Have a good time, kid,” Manorin says. “I’m gonna give you a call tomorrow, alright?”

Hadrian blushes even deeper, running a hand through pitch-black hair that nearly touches his shoulders. “‘Kay, Coach. See ya later.” He tucks his wings at his back and disappears into the crowd, shouldering his way past monsters who point and whisper as he goes.

When Manorin glances down at me, I raise a brow meaningfully as I plant a hand on my hip, my competitive spirit kicking into overdrive. “We’ve got to get him if we can.”

“Good luck,” Betmal says with a snort. “Every haven in the system is trying to snatch up Hadrian Alkazar, and word has it he’s a country boy.”

When I roll my eyes, he grabs Amatheia’s hand. “Come, ma sirène, I promised to feel you up on the dance floor.”

Ama waves goodbye as she allows Betmal to guide her to an empty spot.

When I look up at Manorin, he’s staring at me with an intense look in those beautiful dark eyes.

“Ready to get outta here, Sunshine?”

I take his hand. “Lead the way, Nor.”