Page 29 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

The final notes of music faded, and the dancers parted ways. Alek held onto Ariadne’s hand a beat longer, whispering something in her ear that made color rise to her cheeks. The fire in his blood burned hotter. The governor was not known for his subtlety or respectable manners. Not only did power come with his position but protection from the rumors of bedding his servants and even harming them in the process.

Loren did not believe for a moment that Alek remained guiltless and therefore did not trust him to be so close to the one he would one night be putting the engagement necklace onto.

To his delight, however, Ariadne’s gaze found him as soon as the Lord Governor stepped aside. That beautiful mouth curled into a smile, and her oceanic eyes sparkled. He could not recall her ever looking at his brother that way—a mixture of relief and joy.

“Miss Harlow,” he murmured, taking her extended hand and kissing her knuckles.

“General Gard.” She bobbed a curtsy.

“Will you honor me with the next dance?”

Her smile grew, flashing the sharp points of her fangs. Gods, he would give anything for those to dig into his neck. She was perfect in every way. He would have her—one way or another.

“I would love to,” she said as the other dancers took their places for a waltz.

At that, Loren took her hand and led her to an opening so when the music began, he was ready to sweep her into his arms. She sucked in a sharp breath, the first steps taking her off guard. He caught her, though, and shifted her through the steps with ease.

“I am pleased,” he said, “to have the opportunity to dance with you without sharing.”

Group dances like the quadrille belonged in the past. He preferred the intimacy of the more elegant dances.

“As am I,” she breathed, turning her body when his hand slipped to her back.

“Tell me…” He spun her out, then back to him. “What do you think of the ball?”

Ariadne turned her eyes up from watching their feet and blinked twice before answering. “It is lovely. The Kolsons have such a beautiful home.”

The niceties were forced, he knew. Lady Dierdre Kolson did not care for Ariadne, and the feelings were mutual. Though they had been cordial prior to her sudden disappearance, the respect fell apart in its wake. With most of the Society not knowing what she had endured, the speculation made Ariadne the hot topic for many months.

“I believe yours was far superior.” He pulled her closer on the next turn and inhaled the rich scent of lavender clinging to her hair.

“You are too kind.”

They spun in unison with the other dancers, and beside the open garden doors, he spotted Azriel Tenebra. The bastard was everywhere. His sharp eyes followed them like a predator stalking its next meal.

Loren glared at him, his gut twisting with distrust. “Your watchdog is quite attentive.”

“Watchdog?” Brows pinching, Ariadne twisted her head around to follow his line of sight. She bit her lip. “He is.”

“One might say,” he said, annoyed at her sudden shift of attention, “a little too attentive.”

Ariadne snapped her gaze back to him with a light laugh. “My father is adamant about our safety.”

“And where is the other guard?” Loren liked him better. He did not intrude and made himself far less visible, as a guard should. Tenebra did not know his place. Loren would teach it to him if he must.

“Madan is on a well-earned break visiting his family home in Asterbury.”

Ariadne squeezed his forearm, bringing his attention back to her. Her aquamarine eyes glittered like gems. Yes, it was much better looking at her beauty than the half-fae filth across the room.

“When does he return?”

“Soon, I suspect.”

“Good.”

A light line formed between her brows but disappeared in a blink. If memory served, she had not seemed thrilled about Tenebra’s appointment at first. What changed?

The dhemon attack. She had been with Tenebra when Loren spotted her amidst the panic. The guard, not keen on letting her out of his sight at first, acquiesced only after Madan’s reassurance of her safety. Now Ariadne trusted him.

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