Page 29 of Unveil

He snorts. “Noted.”

I worry my lip. “I said if he called me that again, I’d go fuck a Fury to spite him.”

I brace for impact, ready for hurt, or disappointment, or anger to hit me.

But instead, he bursts out laughing.

The sound is deep and rough as it tumbles from his chest. But most of all, it’s carefree. Like his lungs aren’t used to releasingsomething so unburdened. It’s heartwarming, and I… I’ve never seen it before.

He finally catches his breath, sighing as he leads us back into the dance, and I’m so enthralled, I barely stop myself from tripping.

“And what did he say tothat?”

“Nothing,” I answer, a little dazed by how happy he looks. “I think he was afraid I’d go do it, and I was afraid I’d let it slip about the pact.”

“The Troisgarde-Fury Pact?” His focus sharpens on me, and my stomach drops.

Double whoops.

“You know about that?”

He clears his throat. “Everyone where we’re from knows about it.”

I groan. “Jesus. I didn’t realize it was public knowledge. It’s not like there’s anything to even talk about. My dad shut it down years ago. It would’ve been a nightmare if I had to go through with it.”

Zy’s jaw ticks. “You sound like the pact is a curse.”

“Isn’t it? We’re not in medieval Europe, and I certainly didn’t choose to get married to a stranger.”

At that, I swallow. I guess this is as good a time as any.

“Uh, not-so-tangential segue here, but did you… think about what I said?”

I wish I could see his expression, but even without his mask, the strobes have started to cast a weird blur over his features.

“Uh, yeah,” he hesitates. “I did.”

I blow out a breath. “Like I said, I don’t want to stay here. I know you want to settle down in New Orleans, but I need out. I need to roam. I’ve been dying to go back to the mountains, and I need to leave the nest at some point.”

A soft smile quirks up his lips. “So do it.”

“You said you wanted to stay here.” I smirk, confused.

“What can I say? You’ve convinced me to change my mind.”

I want to laugh, but it’s just too little too late.

“Don’t you feel like there’s something missing between us? Some… spark?”

His thigh slides between mine as he dips me, going higher than any of my partners onstage ever have. My lower belly swoops, and my core clenches. I’ve performed moves like this thousands of times, but never likethis.

“No,” he finally answers, eyes hard, and… darker than normal. “I think we’re fucking made for each other.”

My breaths catches in his thrall. “Made for each other?”

He nods. “You wanna roam? I’ll go with you. So…”

Then he whisks me back up, and lifts me, making me feel light and fluttery. Weightless in his hands. My tutu swirls as he pulls me back in and whispers in my ear.