Page 50 of Spark of Sorcery

“And rude for cutting you out of the dancing.”

“You can’t blame him. Everyone seems excessively horny tonight.” I rub at my neck, feeling a bruise where Dray sucked on it. Definitely horny.

“Well, we can dance,” I tell her, grabbing her elbow.

“Won’t the Princes miss you?”

“That’s probably a good thing. I don’t want them to think I’m going to be chained to their sides just because …” I trail off.

“Oh,” Clare says, with a knowing smile.

For such a meek and serious person, Clare turns out to be quite the outrageous dancer. She throws her entire body into each move, making bold and frankly bizarre shapes with her body – her arms raised above her head one minute and shimmering extended by her sides the next. Has she had one too many glasses of the sickly smelling punch? Or is this her usual dancing style?

I don’t care. I love it. I’ve always felt self conscious dancing. Of course, I never used to. Me and Amelia would sing and dance all day if we had the food in our bellies to allow it. But Muriel put paid to any of that. She didn’t like music or singing or any outward signs of happiness at all. She wanted everyone to be as miserable as she was.

Dancing with Clare is freeing. I don’t care what people think of me. I’ve given up trying to be invisible. They’re all whispering and gossiping about me anyway. May as well give them something pretty innocent to gossip about. Afterall, I’d rather they were talking about my slightly insane dance moves than my very scandalous dalliance with Dray at the back of the hall. Hopefully, no one but Thorne spotted that.

I look for him now as I spin madly round and round with Clare becoming dizzier and dizzier as I do. But I don’t spy him, although I do see Beaufort (looking disapproving) and Dray (clearly amused).

It gives me an idea.

“Has anyone asked you to dance yet?” I shout above the music.

Clare shakes her head. Her glasses are all fogged up from the humidity in the hall so I can’t tell if she’s disappointed by that. I’ve a feeling she is though.

“Come on then.”

I link my arm through hers and lead her to where those two shadow weavers were watching us.

“It’s rude to stare,” I tell them.

“Just keeping an eye on you, Kitten. You have a tendency to end up in trouble.”

“Well, it would be politer if you danced with us. Especially as my friend has no partner to dance with.”

They both stare at me and then Dray jumps forward eagerly.

“I’ll dance with you,” he tells my friend.

I wouldn’t usually consider Clare and Dray’s energy to be on the same level but tonight I think they might be evenly matched.

Dray yanks her into a ballroom grip and starts tangoing her dramatically across the dance floor, people leaping out of their way. I giggle, my cheeks pulling up into a smile.

Am I actually having fun?

“Has your friend been taking drugs?” Beaufort grunts beside me.

I groan. “No, has yours?”

He leans down to whisper in my ear: “From what I understand he’s been getting high on your pussy.”

“I wouldn’t exactly describe it like that,” I mutter.

“Then you don’t understand much about wolves,” he says. We watch our two friends as Dray lowers Clare right over backwards and she lifts her leg up into the air. “So you want to dance?” His arm brushes against mine and even through the fabric of his suit, I feel the heat of his body and the tingle of his magic. Why, even when this man has said something to annoy me, do I find myself unable to resist him?

But resist him I force myself to do. Besides, it’s kind of pleasant standing by his side and not arguing with him for once.

“Uh uh,” I say, “I’m enjoying just watching the dancing.”