Page 119 of Hateful Prince
Clarity was a bittersweet blessing. Realizing the madness had pulled me under like a riptide, swift and merciless, I could only offer her a chagrined smile. I needed more of her. She was my port in the storm. It took the span of a heartbeat for me to grab her by the hand and tug her bodily against me. Ah, that was better. She wasn’t my port. She was my anchor.
“Let’s dance, love. And next time, remind them what dibs means, will you?”
Dahlia’s giggle wrapped around me like a lover’s caress, protecting me and brushing away all lingering insanity. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
“Don’t talk dirty to me in public, love, unless you’re prepared for me to act on it.”
My fingers trailed over her bare arm, sliding down until I found her wrist, my bracelet plain as day. Her heated gaze caught and held mine as I gave the braided leather a gentle tug. Her sharp intake of breath had me feeling the echoes of that tug all the way to my balls.
“This doesn’t match your dress.”
“Didn’t you hear? Leather goes with everything.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“I have it on good authority it goes even better with my dress on the floor.”
“Fuck me, sweet girl. These breeches don’t leave anything to the imagination. You can’t keep teasing me.”
She smirked. “Who said anything about teasing? I wore it for you.”
All the blood in my body had officially taken up residence in my cock. Leaning close, I took her earlobe between my teeth and nipped her just hard enough to make her squeak. “I guess I’ll have to find out for myself later.”
“Promise?”
I opened my mouth to give her a solemn vow, but the music cut off, and Dr. Masterson stepped onto the stage in front of the band.
The doctor tapped on the microphone a few times, sending feedback screeching through the room. We all winced collectively in response, Dahlia stepping out of my hold and covering her ears.
The second her skin left mine, I was assaulted by the never-ending countdown to my demise.
Tick
Tick
Tick
“Bloody fucking hell, will this torture never cease?” I grumbled.
Apparently not, because Masterson decided to grace us with a speech, which was arguably a step above the tick, tick, ticking, but not by much. And we weren’t going to talk about the fact that the ticking was still there, faint but audible. My eye was about to start twitching in time with the clock.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for this year’s annual donor benefit gala. We’re pleased to have in attendance our new benefactor and his mate. His Grace, the most noble Duke of Canterbury, and his wife, the Duchess of Canterbury.” A soft smattering of applause came from the crowd.
“Ugh, not again with these ridiculous titles.” Pan’s voice filtered to my ears from somewhere to my right.
Masterson shot a withering glare in his direction before clearing her throat and continuing. “Tonight we also have the added benefit of bearing witness to the revival of our wards, the rite being performed by the Belladonna coven’s new high leader, Moira Belladonna.”
The applause was more golf clap than standing ovation, and it was clearly forced.
Tick
Tick
Tick
“As per tradition, the rite will commence at midnight. Until then please eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves and this most sacred night. Happy Yule!”
She gave a small smile and bobbed a curtsy as the quartet resumed their playing. I, on the other hand, had lost my partner. A-fucking-gain. That dragon-tattooed motherfucker had swooped in and spun her away from me. Oh, he’d pay for that one. Maybe I could enlist the help of the Viking to restrain him so I could show him exactly why she wears my bracelet and not his.