Page 135 of Unravelled
She shouldn’t. Because across the room, he felt it again. A flare of heat. Mira. Her emotions lashed against his own, an unspoken protest buried beneath the fury. He risked a glance. She stood on the far side of the ballroom, dressed in soft blue, the fabric shifting like water with every movement. Her dark hair was swept back, exposing the delicate line of her throat. She was stunning. And worse, untouchable for now.
Ren’s stomach twisted. Tonight, he was meant to be on display, a prize to be won. The song ended. He bowed, dismissing Evelyne with effortless ease before another woman replaced her. Another noble. Another performance.
"Prince Ren," the young women greeted with a smile, her father lingering near the dais, watching intently.
"Lady Sienna." He held his hand, despite the wave of jealousy. She took it.
"You’re much more graceful than I expected," she mused.
"Is that meant to be a compliment?" he asked.
"It is meant to be an observation." she quipped back.
"Noted," he murmured.
Her fingers brushed his shoulder, her smile dipping into something bold, suggestive. The touch was light, meant to entice, to tempt. But Ren felt nothing. Mira’s emotions crashing into his own through the bond, held his attention. Wild, hot and furious.
Ren barely resisted the urge to smirk, but he felt her simmering from across the ballroom. Her emotions stirred something in him, fierce and electric, as if the storm had seeded itself in his own chest. He relished it, even if she didn’t know he could.
His dance partner said something else, something flirtatious, something he didn’t care to hear. He didn’t answer.
Ren turned to his partner with practiced ease, exhaling slowly as he forced himself to play his part. But just as the dance was ending, just as he was about to step away, Ren felt the sharp bite of her jealousy dull, replaced by something more measured, more controlled. But it wasn’t gone. No, it had shifted into something far worse. Satisfaction.
His eyes searched for her as he turned, as the music swelled, as the court blurred around him until he found her. A hand extended toward her. Ren’s heart stopped. Tharion knew. He knew how Ren felt about Mira, yet still offered his hand to her.
His chest went tight, burning. He trusted Tharion. He did. But something in him rebelled, twisted, roared at the sight of Mira letting herself be led onto the dance floor by someone else. The moment their hands met, she lifted her chin. Ren’s steps faltered.
"Apologies," he said smoothly, releasing her hand at the final note.
Each of these women were trying to charm him. Each one failed. But their parents? Their parents were watching. Calculating. Waiting for any sign of interest. Between dances, one of them approached.
Lord Edric, father to Lady Sienna. "Your Highness," he greeted smoothly, hand outstretched. Ren took it. Firm shake. Calculated grip.
"Your daughter is a fine dancer," he said.
"She was hoping for a second." Ren offered a smile that meant nothing.
"A shame, then, that the court is so full of hopeful women tonight."
Edric hesitated. A beat too long. Then, a bow, tight, forced. "Of course, Your Highness."
Ren exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. The next woman arrived before he had time to prepare. She was lovely enough, though her mother loomed at her side like a predator circling a meal.
Ren barely caught their names before the mother nudged her daughter forward, practically presenting her like an offering. He resisted the urge to sigh. Then, an idea struck. It was reckless. It was perfect.
Ren didn’t fight the smirk that curled at the corner of his lips as he extended his hand. "Shall we?"
The young woman flushed as she placed her hand in his, her cheeks warming at his touch.
"It would be my honor, Your Highness," she said breathlessly.
He led her onto the dance floor, smoothly guiding her into position as the music swelled around them. She was eager, practically glowing with the attention.
"Your mother seems determined," Ren remarked as they stepped into the first movement of the waltz.
The young woman’s eyes widened slightly before she let out a nervous laugh. "She believes we would make a good match."
Ren smiled, charming, effortless. The words meant nothing. Because even as he danced, even as he kept his movements fluid and precise, he was already positioning them carefully, subtly shifting his steps. Waiting.
