Page 13 of Sharpen Your Claws

“Tonight, then, you escaped Laurent’s deal?” he asked.

“Yes, now you understand,” Nicholas replied. “The kings had this ball for me. They claimed to owe me for what I had done. When a promise is made, Faerie will ensure it through, so I asked to be repaid, to have them absolve my deal with Laurent toward you. He has no more sway over me.”

“Doesn’t he? You are to wed Evera, are you not?”

“We are to have children, not wed, though I do like when you sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous, nor does this change anything.” He snatched his hand away. The monstrosity felt Nicholas’ touch as if it were normal, as if it weren’t cold silver. “I appreciate what you did for me, but years have passed and I have moved on.”

Nicholas smiled, but his tone was wicked. “Humans and their lies. You should be better at telling them.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. For a fleeting moment, William wondered what they could become, if they could be like they were, and he’d have some semblance of normalcy. He dared to imagine a future together, waking in the same bed every morning, showing each other their homes, and being whisked away by a consuming love.

Music played from the ballroom, a slow song he learned to dance at the hands of his less than chipper dancing instructor. She had been a tall, gangly woman that frightened him as a child. She scowled more than smiled and took tutoring seriously. While he performed better than his brothers, by her standards, that didn’t mean she gave him compliments. In fact, that was the only compliment she ever gave him. If she saw him now, frozen in front of Nicholas’ offered hand, she may have been horrified enough to spit on his shoes.

“Dance with me,” said Nicholas.

The music ascended into a tempo that made one want to take part, but he retreated.

“What? No, I… I have business to attend to. I should return to the ball.” He didn’t go to the door because that meant getting closer to Nicholas.

The shade blocked the exit entirely by taking a step back to shut the door entirely. “We have business to attend to that I cannot wait another moment for.”

“I believe our business is concluded. You gave your explanation. While I appreciate knowing the truth, it changes nothing.” His heart quivered.

“Give me a dance and I will let you leave without a fuss.” Nicholas took a step closer.

“You should let me leave without a fuss, anyway.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He barely contained his chuckle. Nicholas sounded like himself there, playful and annoyingly charming when William needed him not to be.

“One dance,” he relented and berated himself for doing so.

Nicholas didn’t hesitate to take hold. William fell against his chest, overwhelmed by the scent of lilacs and wood. His gaze fell to Nicholas’ mouth, to lips he thought he remembered, but had the abrupt desire to relearn. The devilish fae smiled as if he read William’s thoughts, or rather, couldn’t possibly miss how tormented he became.

“I fear I do not know many songs of Terra, so you must lead, my wicked.” Hearing that name from Nicholas’ mouth made his heart ache in ways he wished to have forgotten.

He took a moment to settle himself, then laid a hand on Nicholas’ waist. The other, his right, the cursed arm went stiff in Nicholas’ grasp. His trembling ceased from Nicholas’ gaze, the fae’s longing so palpable it made him forget of everything save the music they danced to. They existed within a world entirely their own, pirouetting around a room too heated, too small to contain the rapacious desire burning between them.

He felt such a fool to be taken by Nicholas’ mere appearance. A few words and a dance had his resolve crumbling when he willed it to grow taller. His heart and body were one, desiring Nicholas’ entirely while the mind pleaded for separation. Nicholas breached every wall he dared to build without so much as a fight. He thought he would be stronger than that, but time and time again, reality proved different from fiction.

Then the songs stopped, and they stood breathless and alone. He wasn’t certain how long they danced, certainly to more than one song. He got lost to the rhythm of not only the music, but Nicholas himself. He carried a tempo all his own, chaotic and unpredictable.

“I do believe that I was made for you,” Nicholas whispered, with his hands descending upon William’s cheeks. “Made to love you, to cherish you, to wait for you until I become forever yours.”

His words were sickeningly sweet, but his tone was frightful and his eyes a vision of terror. They glistened in a violet hue that struck terror in William’s heart, forcing him finally to depart. He struggled back a step and another, watching a shadow fall upon Nicholas’ form until he stood as little more than a threatening silhouette.

He wasn’t sure what would have happened if Charmaine didn’t call his name. A knock rapped at the door. “William, are you in here?”

Charmaine opened the door.

“Good evening.” Nicholas gave an exaggerated bow.

“Nicholas,” she whispered, then caught sight of William. She wore his same fear, but forced an amicable smile. “It is good to see you. You look well.”

Nicholas threw his head back in laughter. “More lies. Your expression is as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

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