Page 49 of His Dark Delights
Vapid and mindless creatures wove their webs around me as I stood there, eyes scanning the crowd. A modicum of relief smoothed the edges of my nerves as I caught sight of a familiar figure. A dream come to life, a picture of grace and pure desire, dressed in a flowing gown of emerald silk that draped over her curves as tight as a second skin.
Lilliana. My captor and savior, in equal measure. My solace and my tormentor. Her slender form maneuvered the curious crowds with a mask of confidence. And her laughter, like the ringing of bells, dampened the music and delighted me beyond reason. She’d arrived only moments ago and already a veritable herd of hungry, greedy suitors swarmed her.
I had taken her from her simple life, from the farm that had been her world, and thrust her into the opulence of the palace. It was for her own safety, to keep her close in a world rife with danger. Deeper than that, I needed her, like a moth yearned for the flame, drawn to her light even as it threatened to consume me.
Our eyes locked across the expanse of the lavish, crowded hall. Something glinted in her eyes as she regarded me.
My heart skipped a beat.
Her gaze cut away, going to the nobleman at thecenter of her attention. My stomach sank and clenched when she accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dancefloor.
Something primal and wicked flared within the knots forming in my guts. A slither snake of envy and venom, a rising snake rearing back in preparation to strike. A fire of possessiveness swelled higher, sparking on the cinders of greed I struggled to quench.
I struggled to retain my composure as Lord Brandywine attained her for the second dance. A man whose only redeeming qualities were his wealth and support of the war. When his arm encircled her waist in a manner too familiar, too intimate, an unconscious snarl ripped through my chest.
How dare any of those unworthy peacocks dare to touch her? To preen and brag in her company as if they had anything worth her attention?
They didn’t know of her love for honey cake. Of her affinity for nature and her joy in being outdoors with her toes in the dirt. Or her bond with that silly cow, of the hours she spent in the garden with Millie. They would never know about the hidden constellation of freckles on her shoulders and the almost imperceptible ones dappled across her nose. How her eyes shone almost silver at night, or how her skin glowed under the moonlight.
Those fools wouldn’t notice the scrunch of her nose when she laughed, of the dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. The way her breath hitched right before a peal of giggles. They wouldn’t know, and they wouldn’t appreciate those subtle intricacies.
Every ounce of my being howled to stride across the room and beat them back, to grab her and mark myterritory right there in the middle of the grandeur. But I had to have faith that Lilly could hold her own, and that she knew who she belonged to at the end of the day. She was a woman of will and strength, her presence in the castle, that night, proof of her adaptability and natural charm.
Perhaps on some level I was pleased with her and the ease with which she wove through the bleating aristocrats. Maybe even proud of how far she’d come since her days on the farm. Yet all I could focus on was the way she shone so brightly, brighter even, in the company of others—of men that weren’t me.
Lord Brandywine leaned into Lilly near the end of the dance. The leash on my restraint snapped and my patience unraveled as that one knot came loose. I ignored whatever Rhydan was droning on about beside me, hardly hearing a word he’d said all night, and propelled forward through the crowd.
A figure of pearls and satin blocked my path. Lady Orla, a former conquest of mine, curtsied low, her dark eyes lingering on mine. Her practiced seduction had worked on me once, the act now as transparent as glass.
“Your Majesty,” she purred, placing her hand on her obscenely low neckline, “you look so dashing this evening.”
“Thank you, Lady Orla,” I replied, as detached as possible.
The white and blue beehive of hair precariously balanced on her head blocked my view of the dancefloor. I craned my head, looking around her to track the movement of the object of all my wants.
“And the palace,” the lady continued, placing a hand on the crook of my arm, “is as resplendent as ever. GrandDuchess Cecily hosts the most wonderful events. She invited me personally, you know.”
My lip curled as her lashes fluttered, utterly unaware of my disinterest. Or maybe she didn’t care.
“Though it cannot compare to the beauty of the king.” Lady Orla pressed in closer, her breasts blatantly rubbing against my arm. My gaze was already drifting back toward Lilly’s last location.
I spotted her, our eyes locking at the same moment. She hung on the arm of another younger lord. Yet when she noticed me, her eyes dropped to Lady Orla’s hand on my arm and the nonexistent distance between our bodies.
Her attention whipped back to the younger lord. Her head flung back as a peal of divine laughter breached her lips. That pompous young prat placed his hand on her lower back, far too low for comfort. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth clicked.
I wrenched my arm free of Lady Orla, dismissing her without a second glance. My boots clicked on the floor, steps measured and deliberate as an insensible sickness provoked me into action. Lilly continued to dance, wrapped up in the delight of the music and amenable company.
The young lord spun her out as the music hit a crescendo. I snapped out, striking, catching her wrist before he could spin her back into his embrace. She gasped, and the lord faltered, eyes nearly bugging from his head as he noticed me. And her enchanting eyes lit up with something, a confusing combination of relief and defiance.
“Mind if I cut in?” I asked, less a request and more of a command.
“Of course, Your Majesty. Please,” the young man sputtered. He practically stumbled over himself in his haste to bow and flee.
Lilly’s expression melted, dropping into something masked and unreadable. Her hand was warm in mine, her body perfectly melded into the grooves of mine as if she was made to fit against me. We moved into the dance and I internally glowed as her steps moved with mine in astounding synchronicity.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” I gritted out, tone dripping with my jealousy.
Lilly’s eyes snapped to mine, hardening. “Isn’t that exactly what you wanted? To show me off and let all the stuffy nobles get an eyeful?”
