Page 19 of Daughter of the Ninth Line: Part One

Ah, sex. The only time Lines didn’t matter.

I wouldn’t drag them away, but I still stood. “Tell Viana I’ve gone home?”

Hayle reached up and grabbed my hand. “Don’t let him chase you out,” he said softly, and I stared down at our connected hands. His skin was so hot, almost like he was running a fever, and his eyes were imploring. He wanted me to stay, but I didn’t know why. I didn’t want to be the plaything for a powerful man. If I wanted that, I could have stayed in the wilds of the Ninth Line lands and married some rugged mountain lord.

The warmth of Hayle’s skin on mine seemed to be running through my veins, heating my body, or maybe it was the desire in his gaze. It was muddling my thoughts, flaying my willpower so that I was helpless to resist his next words.

“Stay, Avalon. For me?”

This was dangerous; nothing good could come from forming an attachment to the man in front of me. “Why?”

The tilt of Hayle’s head at my question was undeniably animalistic. The Master of Beasts. “I thought that was obvious?” he rumbled, his deep voice like a caress.

I laughed, a crazed, almost demented sound. “Nothing about this place, or you and these people, is obvious, Hayle.” I waved a hand around the room as I leaned closer. “I have no idea why Vox keeps seeking me out to torment me. No idea why this place even exists if we aren’t at war.” Closer I went, until we were almost nose to nose. “I definitely have no idea why you gave me a hound bodyguard, or why you invited me to this party, or what your interest in me even is. None of it is obvious.” I went to move away, but Hayle captured my face between his palms.

“I want you to stay because you’ve captivated me since the day you stared down Lucio’s war cat in the atrium to save a stolt. Something inside my chest knows you, wants you, and while I don’t fully understand it either, I trust my instincts above all else. My hounds might actually like you more than me.”

Braxus gave a short yip from somewhere, but I couldn’t turn to look. Because Hayle was holding me tightly, not with his hands, but with the heat of his gaze.

“So sit back down and get to know me. I’ll help you make sense of all this.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Hayle Taeme, so if this is an elaborate ruse to get the poor little Ninth Line country mouse into bed, you’re out of luck.” I gave him a hard look. “And if you’re thinking of pressing your obvious advantage over me, you should know I’ve castrated a lot of barn cats in my life, and I’m pretty sure the concept is the same with people.”

Hayle threw back his head and laughed, dropping one hand to cover his dick. “Duly noted, Avalon Halhed. I won’t even suggest taking you to bed until you climb onto my lap and ask me so prettily for what you want.”

It didn’t escape me that both powerful Heirs had suggested I would beg for their attention eventually, but with Hayle, the temptation was too real.

Someone was making pornographic noises, and I couldn’t help but look. The girl kneeling in front of Vox was making a show of it, either for the crowd at the party or for Vox himself. But the Heir had his eyes screwed tightly shut, his head tipped back, and his lips parted in pleasure. His fingers flexed in the girl’s hair as his body tensed. I’d learned enough about sex from books and stable boys that I knew he was about to blow, and I couldn’t look away.

When his eyes snapped open and met mine, there was something burning hot in them. I didn’t have time to look away and pretend I wasn’t staring at him.

No, he held my gaze as he came in someone else’s mouth, and I should’ve felt disgusted, but instead I felt… hot. Aroused. Disgusted with myself. My pussy clenched—that traitor—and when he looked down at the girl slipping off his cock, I dragged my eyes back to the man beside me.

Hayle was also watching Vox get off, his face unreadable. However, when he turned back to me, he gave me a lopsided grin. “I knew the Heir to the Throne was a one-touch fuck,” he murmured against my ear, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I purposefully didn’t look at Vox Vylan the rest of the night, or at the girl on his lap. Instead, I concentrated on Hayle, and he made it so easy. He was like a sun the entire party revolved around. He was warm and engaging, and funny. He got me drinks, asked me questions, told me stories until I was sure I was going to wet myself with laughter. People came and went from his stratosphere like moths to a flame.

As the night went on, I forgot more and more why it was a bad idea to fall for Hayle Taeme. He loved his hounds, his home, and most of all, he loved his family. It was right there in every anecdote, every dream, every funny story he shared.

Right now, he was telling me about the time that Lucio had wanted them to prove themselves against their older brothers by doing some ancient ritual that involved a bonfire and being shirtless with mud smeared on their chests. But when they couldn’t get the fire started, Lucio had tried pouring his father’s home-distilled alcohol on the flames and got third-degree burns to his nipples.

“To this day, he can’t grow chest hair,” Hayle said conspiratorially, pointing over at Lucio, who’d lost his shirt atsome point during the night. He was indeed hairless. I couldn’t draw breath through my laughter.

Braxus and Alucius looked relaxed, but both were clearly keeping an eye on the people in the dorm, and it felt nice to just let go. To be happy.

I was pressing closer and closer to Hayle, and the drinks were definitely helping me feel warm and free and a little light-headed. I needed to get out of here before I made stupid decisions and begged him to kiss me already.

As I stood, Hayle stood with me. He was so warm and alive, and for a moment, nothing mattered. Not my past, not my future. It was a heady feeling. “I should go,” I murmured, and he nodded.

“Dance with me, just once, then I’ll walk you home?”

Logically, I knew I should tell him that I didn’t want to dance, that I could find my own way down a couple of flights of stairs, but I didn’t. Instead, I took his outstretched hand and allowed him to lead me to the living room, which was currently doubling as a dancefloor.

The song playing was slow and undulating, a song made for sex and hedonistic pleasures. Hayle’s hands landed on my hips, and he pulled me closer. This wasn’t like the polite waltzes I’d been taught by etiquette tutors. This was something else entirely, something that would make Madam Proctor, my dance instructor, have a stroke.

His leg went between mine, and he hooked my hands around his neck. “I’m so out of my depth,” I muttered beneath my breath, but Hayle just chuckled, moving me to the music.

“Don’t you dance up there in the Ninth?”

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