Page 60 of A Dance With Fire
Shula wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because she’d only ever performed for humans, or maybe because even through her giddy excitement, she still felt like she was among enemies.
She heard Orna sigh on the other side of the bush, and then her blue hands poked through the greenery and parted them so she could peek in at Shula’s naked form.
Shula yelped and covered her arms over her body. It didn’t seem to matter though, because Orna’s gaze barely flicked over her figure. “You miss dancing, right?”
“Yes,” Shula answered honestly.
“Then put on the clothes that Lila so graciously let you borrow, get your Fire Dancing ass out here, anddancefor us.”
Mana, Shula must have been crazy for even considering this.
To be honest, if she thought about it, she had been prepared to give up dancing forever. That part of her life had nearly died with her old job and her old life. She would have escaped, disguised herself, and found something new to hide. Giving up dancing? She enjoyed what she did. That was part of the reason she had found it so difficult to accept the end of that cycle.
But Orna was giving her another opportunity. Did the crowd really matter? After all, Shula couldn’t control that they were keeping her hostage, but Shula could control this. Her own innate talent, her movements.
She took in a breath. “Fine,” she conceded.
Orna made a giddy noise in the back of her throat. “Okay, okay, this is so exciting. Let me go find you some of that wine they keep passing out. Wait here and get dressed, quickly.” Then she disappeared.
Shula chuckled but bent and pulled on the clothes Lila had lent.
It had been Orna’s idea.
She’d noticed one of the humans dressed in a loose skirt and flowing scarf. They’d been outfits similar to what Shula wore during her acts, but in dull, faded colors. Orna had asked to borrow a flowing skirt and a top that covered only her breasts and dangled little jewels. She’d lent them a head wrap that Shula lifted and tied over the lower half of her face. She opted to go barefoot because Lila’s shoes wouldn’t have fit Shula’s much bigger feet.
Once she was finished getting dressed, Orna poked her head through the bush again and took her in. “Oooh, you look so different!” She pushed her way through the leaves and emerged on the other side wielding a goblet of something that smelt like sour grapes and magic; if magic had a scent, it would be fizzling and sharp. “Fae wine,” Orna offered, handing Shula a cup. “Packs more of a punch than human wine because it’s infused with magic. Bottoms up.”
Shula went with the flow and tipped the contents back. It burned a path down her throat that she welcomed. When she finished, she handed the cup back to Orna.
The sun had already begun to set, and everyone had settled in for the night of relaxation. Orna pulled Shula out of the bushes and shoved her forward between the shoulder blades.
“Hey, Fire Dancer—woah—” Clay nearly tumbled as he took Shula’s appearance in. His eyes went wide, looking her from the toes, up to her midriff, and stopping at the swells of her breasts in the top. Even in the dimness of the night and the light casted by the flickering fire, she could make out his flush. “What are you doing?”
Orna looped her arm through Shula’s and shot Clay a smug grin. “She’s going to dance!” She yelled the words, and Shula felt many eyes stray over in their direction.
She swallowed her nerves.
“Dancing?” Clay echoed, as if he hadn’t quite heard correctly.
“Dancing,” Orna confirmed. “Look, there’s Paulo with his drums now.” She slipped her arm from Shula’s and all but ran in Paulo’s direction.
Shula watched her go, feeling her face heat. “Seriously, the others have been here all but five minutes and she’s already friends with everyone.”
Clay chuckled. “That’s Orna for you…” His eyes roamed over her body once again and stopped on her eyes. “You look good, Fire Dancer. I can feel Ryker burning holes in my back just at the sight of me talking to you.”
Shula rolled her eyes and resisted to the urge to confirm if it was true or not. “Whatever.” She shoved him lightly on the shoulder. It felt natural, and she realized the Fae wine might have loosened her whole body a bit. She no longer felt like she was wound tightly, so on edge.
Even Clay seemed surprised by the action.
Shula cleared her throat and tried not to look shy. She steeled herself and remembered why she danced. Because it gave her power, control over her own body and her own actions. She couldn’t control the world, but she could control herself through movements. She could tell her own story. She could tell others. She could be vulnerable without anyone ever knowing.
And she desperately needed that just then.
She needed to stop being so angry, needed an outlet, and if not with her magic, then through dance.
Just then, the soft beating of the drums sounded around them. A hush fell over the crowd as music began to strum out through the night. It was a song that Shula recognized, as old as her soul.
She closed her eyes and swayed slightly, and when she opened them again, Clay was smiling at her. “Break a leg,” he whispered.
