but I know they’re still here.
Occasionally I can hear Nerissa’s intrusive giggle linger into the night, grating against the melody of the drums. But every time I hear her, Luca pulls me farther into the crowd. The three of us have danced nonstop for the last hour.
I usually don’t dance. Especially with Declan and especially when I know Lord Raske can see me with someone who is not his son. But tonight I don’t care. Or should I say the abundance of alcohol drowning my system won’t allow me to care.
Declan’s fingers dig into my hips to hold me up and he pulls me closer against his chest as I sway to the music and I rest my head back on him. My head feels so weighted. The mass of people doesn’t allow any air to flow over our sweaty bodies but Luca hands me another drink to cool me down a little. It doesn’t seem to help.
Cracking my heavy eyes open, I give a lazy smile, she tilts her cup up at me, sloshing the drink over the edges of the cup and smiles back at me. She so rarely smiles, the gesture reminds me of how unearthly beautiful she is. Almost approachable even.
I feel Declan’s head lean against my own as his fingers rise over the top of my dark jeans and brush lightly against my damp skin. Something tugs at my mind as he starts brushing a circle pattern over my bare hips with his fingertips. The feeling is hypnotic but I start to pull away out of reflex.
As I lean out of his grasp, I collide with something hard. I push my hands out in front of me, my fingers arching against solid muscle.
Opening my eyes, I find I’m face to face with Asher. His bare chest rises and falls visibly, his dark jeans almost disappear into the night, aside from the glint of the new Crimson Sword at his side. His skin is now clean, mud and sweat no longer cling to his body as it did when I laid eyes on him hours ago but without the dirt, the deep white lines of scars etching his flesh are easily seen.
The muscle is strung tight beneath my fingers. My drowsy eyes make their way slowly up the touchable lines of his chest, and meet his steely gaze. He looks down at me, his brows pulled low and his jaw strung with anger, twitching beneath the surface. He searches my face like a book that has no translation. My hazy mind offers nothing to him.
He takes his eyes off me for a moment to look up at Declan who stands a step behind me. The firelight reflects in Asher’s crystal eyes, highlighting his fury.
“Why don’t you go get some water?” Asher says softly, meeting my eyes again, hesitantly touching the hook of my arm. His fingers feel like a shock of electricity against my skin, bringing me to life after a year of numbness.
My palms have flattened against his chest now, making themselves at home in the divine crevices of his perfect body. My mind flutters to keep up with its surroundings. I fight to think rationally but I’m too tired to complete the effort. Besides, Asher’s here. He’s looking, speaking and touching me. Why find rationality when it isn’t needed? Nothing needs to be rationed. I need this. In an abundance.
Wait, what?
He’s still waiting for me to reply, for me to respond, I think. I smile up at his beautiful face, the only reply my mind allows me. An ache settles into my chest. Has he always been this good looking? How could my memory forget the light flecks of crystal amongst the gray in his eyes? My fingers push lightly against his pecs before tracing down the lines of his hard stomach, my index finger drifting off course to trail the length of the smooth scar, which matches my own, against his ribs. His muscles tense beneath my touch.
How has he gotten even sexier since the last time we touched?
My fingers are still traveling when he stops my hands at his lean waist. He’s still breathing heavy but his expression is no longer filled with anger. Why was he angry? Why was I angry? Confusion crosses my face just as a look of pain fills his.
“Do you want Luca to take you back to your bed?” he whispers for only me to hear.
A tingle feathers over my skin as his breath sweeps over my