Page 61 of A Dance With Fire
The reply was at the edge of her tongue.Break yours first.But Clay wasn’t Fanny, and that part of her life seemed so far away now.
She let her eyes fall closed. Shula didn’t need her sight when she felt the beatings of the drums vibrate through her body. When she felt the earth beneath her feet. When she heard and felt down to her very soul. Her feet began to move, tip-toeing closer to the crackling flames of the fire.
The hush seemed all the more profound now, and she instinctively knew that she’d captured everyone’s attention.
She felt eyes on her, and it fueled her ire; it fueled every single emotion she’d kept locked so tightly inside. She hadn’t been able to express it before except in bouts of anger and threats of escape, but now she could display every vulnerable emotion she wished.
So she did.
Her body moved in time with the beat, her feet pounding against the earth as she stomped and twirled. Her body undulated, her arms moved like waves. No, not like waves.
Like flames.
She gave herself up to the music, to her feelings. She controlled every single aspect of herself, she let her anger be heard. The beads on the top slid jangled together with every roll of her chest. Every movement was a breath released. It was letting go. It was accepting that her friendship with Fanny had been a doomed thing from the start. Every movement was her heartbreak given words. It was her sorrow crying out the tears she refused to let fall.
It was her hatred for the Brotherhood and the vulnerability they made her feel. It was her hatred for the Fae that held her captive—no, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t hatred exactly. It was something else, something more that she couldn’t describe with words but with the undulations of her body. It was the wordspecialringing over and over again in her mind without pause. Because shewasspecial, even if she couldn’t accept it yet.
She was the Fire Dancer, and that life was now behind her but, in this moment, it didn’t have to be.
Her eyes flashed open as she twirled, and she caught sight of Orna cuddled close to her husband, watching Shula dance around the fire.
Shula closed her eyes again and opened her palms. She was so used to shoving her magic away, but there was no need to do that now. She wasn’t amongst human haters. She wasn’t near Fanny. She was near those who cared against all odds, even while everyone else shunned them, she was with people who worked together as a single unit of love and respect in a world where only hate existed.
Shula took a deep breath and summoned the flames.
They burst against her fingertips and rose high. She wasn’t deaf to the gasps that rang out around her. The flames engulfed her hands and spread along her arms. She kept them contained as best as she could, but she wasn’t used to using her magic. She wasn’t used to having to control it instead of repressing it. But those faltering movements of her feet and arms only added to the allure of her hands. She pulled the fire deep back inside herself and skidded to a stop just as the drumbeats rose to a deafening, roaring crescendo. Her heart was beating rapidly in tune with the rhythm. Her chest heaved, and when the beating of the instrument died, she was sure everyone could hear her harsh breathing and knew there were tears she was refusing to cry.
After a moment, she opened her eyes and realized she stopped right in front of Ryker by the end of the dance. Like a string that kept pulling them towards one another that she wanted severed. He was staring intensely at her, with no expression other than contempt on his features.
The silence pressed for minutes and she stayed where she was, staring, glaring at one of her captors, making sure he could read every emotion in her gaze.
But then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Julius shouted near her ear, “Now that’s how we start a party!” He raised his glass and laughed before swallowing all of the contents in one go.
It broke the spell she’d cast over them, and everyone began laughing and mingling.
Meanwhile, Shula felt the somberness in her heart.
“Here, Shula Azzarh, it looks like you could use a drink.” Julius tugged her away, breaking her gaze with Ryker and she went willingly. “That’s what I call dancing. You’re amazing.” He all but stumbled his way over to where a High Fae man was sitting near a rocky lump. “Top it off.” Julius shoved his goblet to the High Fae. “And one for the lady, please.”
Then, much to Shula’s surprise, the lump of a rock moved. It seemed to unfurl from itself, and she blinked at a creature she’d never seen before. It was about two feet in height, with wrinkled, gray skin and green cloth that hung in scraps from a twisted, ugly body. Black beady eyes stared up at her from behind a long, crooked nose covered in moles. A lipless mouth pulled back in a sneer, and she couldn’t stop herself from shuddering.
“Goblin,” Julius explained as two goblets were filled to the rim with more Fae wine. Julius removed his arm from her body and took both goblets, turning to hand one to her. After she took it, he clinked the glasses together. “Cheers.” And then he downed the whole thing in one swallow. “Chug it or you’re weak,” he dared.
Shula felt her eyebrows raise. “That’s the kind of daring behavior I expect from Clay.”
Julius laughed. It was hearty and full of soul. “Clay is the bigger daredevil than I am. He’s just being somber lately. Fuck if I know why. Come on, let’s go dance.”
He tugged her around the fire again. No more passionate music played, but music that was upbeat and fun. Several people were already pairing up and doing a jig with their feet and moving around the fire. She caught sight of Orna tugging her husband to his feet, and the two of them slipped out into the copse of trees to steal their moment together as usual.
Julius pulled her into the fray, and she had no choice but to follow on quick feet. She had to hurry and down her drink as she went, wincing while it burned her throat. The effect was instantaneous. It loosened her body, and soon she was getting into the groove with Julius.
He was such a boisterous, fun Fae who let his hair down. The orange strands danced around his ruddy cheeks like flames, and his face reddened as the night went on, though Shula couldn’t tell if it was because of drunkenness or the dancing.
He didn’t let her go unless it was to spin her over to Clay. Back and forth they shared her for the dancing, and she found herself throwing her head back and laughing. She couldn’t help it. The dancing she’d done earlier had helped expel her of her emotions, and Julius had an infectious personality.
“Clay! Catch!” He twirled Shula in Clay’s direction, but he wasn’t fast enough, and she twirled too hard. That and the laughter mixed with the drinks had her losing her footing and falling. A gasp left Shula’s lips as she sprawled straight onto Ryker’s lap.
Her whole body froze against his as he glared down at her. He didn’t speak, and she knew he was about three seconds away from pushing her off his body and maybe kicking her in the face.
