Graysen whipped his hand out and fisted my hair right at the back of my head.

I yelped in surprise, my hands frantically clawing at his. A burning sting flared across my scalp as he shook my head just hard enough that my eyes bit with heat. "Don't you ever fucking dare pull that shit on me again!" I knew what he was bellowing about. Not my wicked tongue, but because I'd deceived him in my quest to seek out the Uzrek.

He arched my head back. Forcing my spine to bow. Forcing me to stare into his harsh gaze. My fingers wrapped around his forearms to steady myself. "I needed to know," I rasped. "You wouldn't have taken me."

"No. I fucking wouldn't," he snarled. "I'm going to slap your ass pink, then red, then paint it blue-black. What the fuck were you thinking going in there...to find the Uzrek? Do you know what that beast could have done to you?"

"I think the Uzrek should have been more afraid of me," I gasped out.

His whole body jerked as if I'd physically hit him, then he blinked and slowly nodded in agreement, but he didn't loosen his fist.

It suddenly dawned on me that his anger wasn't about my seeking the Uzrek at all. This was about him. The shock of realizing his truth was kindling bursting into flame, licking every nerve, burning oxygen from my lungs.

In that cavern buried below Ascendria, when I'd been captured by a net, there was only one person I'd heard in the pitch-black darkness. All of my senses had been honed on him. The slash of his daggers, deep grunts, the sharp intake of wounded breath. He'd fought furiously, fast, and hard. He had to be swifter than the wind, battling his way to me.

And it was my name he roared, Nelle, again and again and again.

Graysen Crowther cared!

And this was just his jerkass way of saying it, because he wouldn't or couldn't, admit it.

My fingers inched up his arms to his shoulders, traveling up his throat, before threading through his thick, unruly hair. He breathed harder and his nostrils flared as confusion entered his gaze. "It's okay, Graysen...I know..."

"What do you think you know?" Threat laced his words, emphasized with a tighter hold on my hair.

"You care—"

"I don't care," he snarled. But I caught it. I saw it. The truth he was trying to avoid. He'd been afraid for me.

"You care," I whispered back softly. And then I fisted his hair. Harder. Sharper. Surprise flared through inky black eyes; the pain fierce enough to make him gasp. I bowed his head toward my own while I rose up on tippy-toes. My words brushed against his lips. "It's okay."

"I. Don't. Care," he bit out savagely.

I wondered if my lies tasted sweet like honey, what his lies tasted like on his tongue.

Letting go of his hair I cupped his cheeks, the scruff tickling my palms. I kissed one corner of his mouth, then the other. "I know...you don't care...not enough to save Sage." Not once but twice.

He squeezed his eyes shut and a pained noise crawled from his throat. When his eyes opened again—acquiescence shone back at me. His fist slowly unfurled in my hair, and his fingers massaged the sting from my scalp. I arched into his touch.

"Have you heartbroken and wailing for months on end?" he replied, shaking his head.

"You didn't care to take on an Uzrek," I smiled, pressing my mouth to the tiny faint scar nicking his upper lip. "Or those things that tried to separate us."

"Go back to your father without you?" And he made a tsking sound just before nudging my head to the side with his nose. His warm lips pressed a kiss to my cheek while his hand untangled from my hair to glide gently down my neck and along my shoulder, teasing a hot shiver from my body. He wound his other arm around my back, drawing me into his hard body.

I closed my eyes, feeling his featherlight kisses along my jaw. "Nor did you care to stand beside me against Master Sirro," I breathed. All for me. He'd done it for me.

He made a growling noise, rough enough that I snapped my eyes open, finding him glaring at me with a blazing intensity that made my heart clench. "He just wants what he can't have...and you're mine, little bird." He captured my mouth, tugging sharply on my lower lip with his teeth. The burn was exquisite, the soothing flick of his tongue, divine. But it was his claim that had me melting against him.

You're mine.

But what he didn't realize was that he was mine. He'd always been mine.

Before he could kiss me, I kissed him, and while the words leaving his mouth denied he felt anything for me, his kisses told me otherwise. One large hand clasped my throat softly, the other moved to my hip, gripping hard, and his lips were painfully gentle. A whispering glance, an apology, and a burning need—mine, mine, mine—he silently said with every brush of his mouth, every sweep of his tongue. I twined my fingers through his silky hair, breathing in his woodsy scent and the faint taste of whiskey on his tongue, and it was my kisses that became more insistent. More greedy. More possessive.

He groaned gruffly as I nipped his lower lip. And just as he gathered me up—

My stomach growled loudly.

He paused, his brows slashing upward.

I burst into laughter as my stomach grumbled again.

"Hungry?" he grinned.

Well, mostly for his kisses. But now I realized just how ravenous I was.

Hmmm, kisses or food?

He broke away and I groaned in frustration.

"I'll find us something in the kitchen. Stay here," he ordered, striding for the door.

"Gods, you're so bossy," I grouched.

He made a pffting sound just like I occasionally did and I couldn't help but grin.

He left and I spun around laughing, my damp hair swirling as I did a little dance, a shimmy of my shoulders, kicking up my heels. Graysen Crowther cared. He was going to come back with food and we'd have dinner together as if we were on a real date. A DATE!

And then we'd kiss. A lot. I'd make sure of it. Because those kisses had inflamed every single part of my body. Deprived of his attention, I ached all over, and I wanted more!

***

My phone pinged with an incoming message. I had received more than a few during the day, but I'd avoided them as they came in, simply wanting to experience my day outside the estate without any outside influence or gruff demands I return to the estate at once.

There were plenty of missed texts from Danne—which I ignored with a slight twinge of guilt—a few from my father and sister. This latest one came from her too.

Evvie: Where are you? Father said you're back home?

Me: I'm back. I'm okay. Just tired, it's been a big day.

Evvie: Where did you go?

I wandered into my bedroom, replying—

Me: Ascendria. Riding the subway.

Evvie: LOL! Typical little sister. Of everything Ascendria has to offer, you ride the subway. Danne's missed you today :) He's been put out you wanted to spend the day with Graysen. I think he's jealous.

Me: As if. *scoff* Um...we're staying in tonight.

Evvie: NELLE! WE'RE?!

Me: Don't read anything into it! I'm just tired. I'll see you tomorrow.

I was such a liar.

Evvie: Tomorrow then. Just...remember he's a jerk.

I sat down on my bed next to Sage, petting his head softly as he slept. Gently pulling back the bandages, I took a quick peek, relieved to see the wound was knitting back together. His misty fur was cool against my lips when I kissed the top of his head. "Poor brave puppy." Sage was a full-grown wraith-wolf, but he'd always be that playful tiny pup Graysen had shoved in my hands five years ago.

A noise—a light rapping.

My head jerked around in that direction. It was coming from the outside door—fingertips on glass.

Quickly leaving my bedroom, I hastened to the door that led outside. When I pulled back the curtain I found Danne standing outside looking sheepish. Opening the door, I whispered, "What are you doing here?"

He gave a quick shallow bow and instead of answering he took my hand and pulled me out of my quarters. "Take a walk with me."

My bare feet made a slapping noise on the flagstone tiles of my private patio. Night had descended and the evening held a cool autumnal quality. Bright moonlight cast a silvery glow over everything, the lamps and bushy shrubs within my patio, even blanching Dane's freckles as he smiled warmly.

I tried to pull my hand free. "Danne, don't." He shouldn't touch me like that. I was a Wychthorn.

The creature inside me stirred, shifting languorously, and gave a soft growl toward Danne.

Instead of letting me go, Danne's curled his fingers more tightly around mine. "Please...I know you're tied to Crowther...but give me ten minutes of your company." Guilt wound itself tightly in my chest. "I haven't seen you all day...friend."

And that one word gripped me hard with shame. Danne and I mostly chatted via text messages, and this was a rare opportunity to spend time with him physically, but my day had been swallowed up by Graysen and the Uzrek and those—

Don't go there!

I'd finally gotten a fragile grip on what I'd done and I couldn't afford anything to tear through the delicate equilibrium I'd woven between my mind and my soul.

He sloped his chin toward the marquee, a mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes. "Let's go have a look and see how it's turning out."

Thinking that I had a bit of time before Graysen returned to my quarters, I let Danne tug me through the gap in the stone railing edging the patio, down the flagstone path winding around the mansion, and onto the grassy lawn. As we walked, his body wove from side to side as he glanced around. "Where's Sage?"

I shot a look over my shoulder at the mansion. Soft light spilled from quarters. "He...uh...he's sleeping."

He grinned broadly. "So I have you all to myself, then. Without the risk of him chewing my leg off."

I almost laughed at that. "He does inspire fear."

"That he does."

We strolled over to the marquee. Men and women worked beneath the floodlights to get everything ready for tomorrow night. In a few hours, all the mortal contractors would leave and our servants would take over.

"Where did you go today? You didn't answer any of my messages."

I gave him a rueful sideways glance and toyed with the tiny pearl buttons on my skirt. "Sorry, I just got caught up with everything. We...um...rode the subway."

Danne rolled his eyes, snorting—a derisive noise. "He didn't take you to the Monarch Tower? Down to the lakeside? Show you about Ascendria?"

"No. He took me where I wanted to go." My icy reply had his eyes flaring wide with surprise. Graysen let me have my day. Though there was an ulterior motive for my decision to ride the subway, it was still something I wanted to do. He'd let me choose, gave me the lead, and simply followed. I was pretty sure Danne wouldn't have gifted me the same freedom. He'd have overridden my desire and made my decisions for me.

"The subway...Huh." A line sharpened between his brows in bemusement. "I didn't know you liked those kinds of things."

Softening my voice, I replied, "I do. I hadn't ridden one before." A smile teased my lips, and I sighed wistfully, remembering the fun of the lines and stations. Getting on and following it through until I changed trains at junctions. The jostling below my feet as the carriage rumbled along the rails to their next destination. All those people flowing on and off, from all walks of life, coming together purely for transportation. I hadn't been surrounded by life—by people—in quite that way before. "I'm not so much interested in the glamour of Ascendria. I prefer...well, the places and people that are more honest, real, everyday." I nudged his shoulder with my own, rocking him. "A little rougher, definitely not glamorous."

Danne gave me an apologetic half-smile and I returned a small smile back.

As we neared the marquee, industrious sounds flowed through the open entrance, and I could feel him quietly studying me. I turned my head and caught the interest swirling in his hazel eyes as if he was seeing me in a new light. And he liked this new reveal.

"What about you?" I asked, wondering how he'd spent his time.

His nose twitched, and for a moment I almost forgot myself, remembering what Graysen had said in the swimming hole this morning. A ferret. I shoved that laugh back down before it could erupt.

"Mostly avoided everyone. Gods, I don't know about you, but I am up to here with wedding talk," and he held a hand up to his neck. "Corné—"

I made a noise of disgust at the back of my throat, and he broke off to give me a strange, wondering look. "Corné's not to everyone's taste. I should know," he said tilting his chin down and raising one eyebrow. "He's my brother. So you know I'll never quite be free of him. And I know he can be a bit of a dick."

That's putting it mildly.

But Danne continued smoothly, "But he's not really all that bad. And he's utterly devoted to Evvie."

Brisk anger coiled itself around me—No, he's not. He doesn't even like her. He's been hurting her!

However, we'd had arrived at the main entrance of the marquee and a long stream of workers were striding out, so I bit my anger back. Squinting as we entered side by side, my eyes adjusted to the golden light inside. I sucked in a breath, smiling wide with wonder. Delighted warmth spread through my chest. The inside of the marquee had almost been transformed into the wonderland of a secret garden Evvie envisaged with its waterfall of flowers and charming potted trees. But I could clearly see the makings of the elegance.

"It's beautiful," I breathed, letting go of Danne's hand to spin slowly around, the hem of my skirt billowing. "It's so elegant," I whispered in awe. Exactly like Evvie.

The soft draping of the ceiling had great glittering orbs hanging low, a netting of fairy lights, and strung crystal. Set up around a parquet dance floor were round tables adorned with white linen, crystal vases and candlesticks, and encircled by taffeta-covered chairs wound with ribbons in pale peach. The space was filled with great pots of bushy flowers or enchanting trees with spread boughs laden with glossy leaves and crystal ornaments bringing a touch of wonder. The main table, where Evvie and our immediate families would sit, had a wall behind it thickly draped with tiny white wisteria flowers that cascaded down its length.

"Dance with me," Danne asked.

My astounded attention whipped back to him.

He wants to dance with me?

Suddenly looking bashful, he rubbed the back of his head. "If that's what you'd like to do."

"There's no music." My nose wrinkled as I felt a little self-conscious about the idea. Awkwardly I twined a hand through the long length of my hair draped over my shoulder. "And...I don't know how to dance." I'd danced with my sisters in the seclusion of our bedrooms, but I knew Danne was asking me to dance formally.

That unassuming smile returned, and he stepped closer, linking our hands together again. His fingers and palms were soft and smooth. Not roughened and calloused from wielding blades. "It's easy. I'll show you. Just try not to step on my toes."

I pulled a wry face. "I can't actually promise that."

He chuckled, and shifted my free hand to his shoulder, before resting his own on my waist. "A waltz. Easy. Just one, two, three."

I kept my eyes on my feet as he guided us around the parquet dance floor. We weren't exactly flowing and graceful as we danced together, but the simplicity of the waltz was easy.

As he moved us around the square dance floor, we neared a group of men setting up a raised platform where the string quartet would be playing. One of the men glanced over his shoulder. Bright blue eyes, pale blond hair. Our eyes met and a strange feeling crept over me...it was as if we knew one another. Though that couldn't be possible. But he did seem familiar—

This morning...I'd seen him this morning unloading containers.

He piqued the interest of the creature residing inside me. It twitched, slithering beneath my skin with curiosity.

The man rose from his crouched position with a nail gun dangling from his hand. He was tall and lean, wearing brown slacks and a fitted light-blue shirt. He was good-looking with full lips and short-sided hair, longer on top with just a touch of waviness. Unlike his light hair, his eyebrows were dark charcoal.

His companions left the marquee, so it was just him and us. He continued watching as we danced. I wasn't sure, but I thought his nostrils flared and his blue eyes deepened to a darker shade. Under his keen interest, I felt extremely stupid dancing without music.

And what the hells am I doing?

My gaze darted over my shoulder toward the entranceway. Graysen surely would be back from the kitchen by now. Though it depended on what he was going to find us to eat. Maybe he'd be waylaid. And why did I feel guilty, as if I was betraying him with Danne?

Shit, what am I doing here?

So much had happened today, and I'd endured an overwhelming amount of emotion. The Uzrek. Those things in the catacombs. Graysen. And now I was dancing with Danne?

My head was spinning.

And so was I. Danne had let go of my waist to spin me around and around, my skirt billowing like a bell. I started laughing, caught up with the joy of whirling—the dizzying motion.

Danne stopped and I fell into him, clutching his shoulders to steady myself, both of us chuckling. He wound his arms wound around my back and when he spoke there was anger simmering beneath his tone. "It kills me to see you bound to Crowther."

Surprised, I leaned back to get a better look at him. There was a seriousness to his usually sunny face.

Is he jealous? Or is he just being a friend, worried for me?

I knew how he felt about Graysen, but I no longer felt the same way as he did. Graysen was no longer being an arrogant asshole and keeping me at arm's length.

Danne stared at me intently with a ghost of a smile playing across his mouth. I felt his fingers running up and down my spine, more intimate than friendly, as was his voice when he said, "You do know that I like you, right?"