Escaping Death

Solana

This is way more than I signed up for. It was supposed to be a quick show of my face and then make myself scarce with the guys. Not be passed around from family member to family member — each of whom has their own special well-intended lecture for me.

I saw my opportunity to slip away and bunker down in a dim corner of the room where I can keep an eye on the party without being noticed by anyone, especially my family.

All of the guys except Ace have been coerced into dancing with my sister and cousins, which was fine. I know they’re just trying to be polite — turning down members of the royal family might not end well for them.

I didn’t appreciate the lust each of them wore for each of the guys. Calla laughed a little too loudly, Clover nuzzled her cheek against their shoulders a little too intimately, and Iris stared at them with stars in her eyes.

Eli was lapping up all the attention, Dean was polite but sure not to fan the flames of their budding infatuations, and Tate looked like he’d rather be getting his fingernails pulled off than be dancing with them.

They’re my naive younger cousins, and when the guys are cut the way they are like Grecian masterpieces carved from stone, I can’t blame my cousins or my sister for getting swept up in the fairytale.

But when the wholesome, family celebration dies down and shifts to cater to the pre- to young-centenarians, things go from PG to R real quick.

Dragons and wolves pair off under the fleeting light, the music shifts to heavy, sinful beats as inhibitions go out the open windows. I thought this would be the point in the evening where we all retire back to my room — I am unusually tired tonight. I’d bet money that I’d be out cold in seconds after laying my head on my pillow.

Another more illicit thought was that one of the guys might ask me to dance. Or better yet command me to dance. While scanning the room I notice Tate first. He’s dancing closely and comfortably with a gaggle of she-wolves, no doubt loving every moment of it. Dean isn’t far away, surrounded by his own fan club pawing and clawing at him. My chest begins to tighten and heat crawls up my neck, but I shake it off in search of the rest of the guys.

Ace is propped up against the bar, immersed in conversation with my father Rohanor, Beta Runidar, Xander, and uncle Incandis. My mom is dancing with my dad Varian in an adjacent alcove, looking every bit in love as ever. Rhys has fucked off to Gods know where while Cole takes several girls up on their offers to dance with the birthday boy.

I consider my current options. I could join Ace at the bar and subject myself to further scrutiny by my family and likely hostility from Beta Runidar, I could go back to my room on my own and tuck myself into bed, or…

Or I could rip those she-bitches off of Tate and Dean and crack their fucking skulls together.

“Interessante,” Eli’s syrupy smooth voice sounds from behind me.

“I’m really not in the mood for games right now, Eli.” My honesty brings him around to my side, fisting his hands in his pants pockets, and tipping his head to the side, regarding me quizzically.

“Green is a lovely color on you,” he says softly, lifting my hand up to expose the green flames that are idling between my fingers before dropping a kiss to the back of my hand, “mas inveja não.”

He blows a gentle flurry across my knuckles, extinguishing my flames, but I’m no less defensive. “Envy? What makes you think that I’m envious of something?”

He harpoons me with a weighted glare, his eyes shifting between mine and the hand he’s holding that had been wrapped with green flames. “Mentirosa. Like you weren’t just fantasizing about decapitating one of those she-wolves.”

“I wasn’t,” I respond truthfully and then mutter under my breath, “I was fantasizing about crushing their skulls.”

Eli smiles warmly at me, placing another kiss on the back of my hand. “You’re losing the forest through the trees, Sunshine. All you see is how the girls swarm them. What you’re missing is the way Tate keeps at least six inches between him and their bodies, or the way Dean’s forced smile plummets as soon as the girl turns her head, or the way Ace’s eyes scan the room every thirty seconds, pausing on you every time.”

His head dips down so his lips graze the shell of my ear and he whispers, “do you want to make them jealous, Sunshine?”

“I thought you said envy was unbecoming,” I sass him half-heartedly.

“On you, yes. Because you have no reason to be. But I’m not against having a little fun at Dean and Tate’s expense.”

I purse my lips pretending to think while I bite back the girlish grin fighting for control. Eli frames my hips with his strong, sinful hands and brings our bodies flush together. “Dance with me, Solana,” he breathes against my neck’s pulse point. I must be exhausted because I don’t have it in me to fight him. Instead I allow him to lead me to a crowded section where we can get lost amidst the sea of young couples enjoying themselves.

We settle comfortably in the crowd, his hands rest tentatively on my body, careful not to move too much. But as the songs become increasingly seductive so, too, does the bite of his frost.

“Are you okay?” I ask breathlessly, still moving my body to match his.

“Yes,” his response is clipped and tense.

“…but,” I prompt him for more.

“But,” his bruising grip on my hips tightens even more, “I’m struggling to keep my hands to myself.”

“Who said you need to do that?”

I don’t actually expect an answer, and if there was one I’d imagine it’d be some self imposed idea — and definitely not what he actually tells me. “Ace. Alpha’s orders. You’re off limits.”

Turning slowly around to face him, I lace my fingers together behind his neck. “Since when?” I tease.

He doesn’t return my playful smile. Instead he spins me back around and rubs his hand across my belly. “More like until when.”

Until, as in until we know if you’re pregnant. Then they’ll be off the hook and free to let me go.

“I — I think I’m going to step outside for a moment.”

My plan was to extricate myself from his grip and slink away with what little dignity I have left but even that endeavor proves to lead me from the frying pan and into the fire.

A fire named Tate and Dean.

“My turn.” Tate doesn’t ask, he declares.

“We’ll take it from here, Eli,” Dean claps Eli on the back and then hip checks him out of the way, taking his place behind me and sandwiching me between him and his brother.

“Did Eli say something to upset you, Sunshine?” Dean says, ever the caretaker trying to right wrongs and soothe aches.

“Just the truth,” I shrug noncommittally.

“What truth might that be?” Tate’s voice leaves a trail of gooseflesh down my neck and spine.

“I’m…untouchable. Persona non grata.”

Tate fixes one hand firmly around my throat and the other slips under the fabric of my dress, grazing my chest, flesh to flesh. “Do you want to be touched, Solana?”

Dean captures my chin between his thumb and index finger, “you don’t need to answer that, Sunshine. We can just dance, and enjoy our night.”

We slip into a silent rhythm, putting reason and thought aside and focusing on our instincts and what feels good — what feels right.

Song after song the two of them push and pull me, swaying me and holding me to the pulsing beats of the music that I can feel just as much as I can hear. My arms wrap around their necks, my hands on theirs, my whole body pressed snugly and perfectly against theirs.

And true to Tate’s word back on the dance floor in Caligo they don’t seem to be jealous or competitive at all. They pass me and spin me between one another with ease, just as happy to be in front of me as they are behind me. Between the music, their scents, and their hands on me at all times it’s like sensory overload and I’m crackling with energy that needs to be released.

The night carries on around us. People come and go, songs end and begin, but they’re always there. They pass me and spin me between one another. It’s easy to lose balance.

Which is the excuse I’ll use to justify what I say next.

“Take me upstairs.”

“Should we tell the others?” Tate’s voice is gravel, thick with desire that’s been painfully repressed.

“No, just us.” I look tentatively over my shoulder at Dean, verifying that they’re okay with what I’m asking.

“As you wish, Sunshine,” Dean nips my ear playfully.

I lead them by the hand through the still crowded room up the stairs that lead to the balcony when we spread our wings and take off for my room.