Page 18 of A Kingdom of Broken Bonds

“Yes, he is a knowledgeable dance partner,” I reply easily, implying that I was able to gain information from him during the dance. This makes it appear that the fae and I were having light conversation without it seeming suspicious that we were talking. However, while I did manage to get a little information from him, and I would have liked more, I feel a little steadier knowing what I do.

“Anthea, the king wishes to have a word with me,” Geoff tells me, cutting through my conversation. “Will you be okay here on your own for a few minutes?”

We both know I won’t be on my own, the constant presence of the guards surrounding me like a bubble. “Of course,” I reply, surprised to see genuine concern in his eyes.

Bliss steps closer as soon as he steps up onto the dais with the king. “Are you okay? Genuinely, I mean. I know vampires are not very big on sharing their feelings, but I am worried. There was a moment when you were on the dance floor when you looked like… You looked unwell, Thea. Pale, even for you.”

I could pretend that I am fine or play down the whole incident. That is what would be expected of me, but I’m hurting, I’m exhausted, and I need a friend to talk to.

“He rejected me again.” I look away, not wanting to see her expression as I share everything. “What you saw on the dance floor was the bond indicating it was unhappy.”

“Do not worry, Anthea,” a voice says, making Bliss and I turn. It’s Ember, her face the picture of smugness. A male just escorted her back towards us, but before she could get far, another stopped her. Not only is her new suitor handsome, but he is also one of Havoc’s older brothers. Fantastic. “At least one of us is suitable for the princes. You won’t see me shirking my duty.” Winking, she links her arm with the prince’s, and he leads her away, whispering something that makes her laugh aloud.

Bliss bares her teeth at the dragon shifter as she struts past us, hissing in warning. I sometimes forget how terrifying she can be. She’s always dressed in bright colours and adorable outfits, looking beautiful without even having to try, but the heart of a siren is a wicked thing, cursed with an insatiable hunger.

We watch Ember as the prince leads her into a dance, the two of us scowling at how perfect the two of them look together. It makes me feel sick.

“The prince will be in for a big surprise if he is paired with her,” Bliss comments with a shake of her head. “She is vicious.”

I can’t say I disagree. Dragons are known for their fiery tempers and strong wills. There is a lot I would like to say about this potential pairing, but I wouldn’t dare do it when anything I say could get back to Ember.

“I’m sure he knows what he would be getting into if he chose to marry one of the dragons,” I say as diplomatically as I can.

We stand together in companionable silence for a little while, watching the comings and goings of the dancers. Most of the brides are asked to dance, but for some reason, no one comes to dance with Bliss. Usually she is one of the most popular, and I start to suspect there is a reason she’s not being asked. I keep watch from the corner of my eye, and it’s not long before I notice her baring her teeth at any male who walks in our direction. They wisely turn on their heel and walk away, not wanting to invoke the wrath of a siren.

Raising a brow, I glance over at her. “Are you scaring off your suitors?”

Unlike me, the rest of the brides are not yet paired up with their future husbands, so these balls are the perfect opportunity for them to meet males. Some believe the prophecy will somehow make it clear which male will be the perfect match, another reason why all the brides are invited to attend.

“I don’t feel like dancing. Besides, I want to spend more time with you.” She shrugs it off like this is no big deal, as though she isn’t sacrificing this time she could be using to find happiness.

“I appreciate it, Bliss, but you shouldn’t hold back because of me.” Placing a hand on her wrist, I wait until she turns to look at me before speaking again. “Please, you should dance. It would look strange if you didn’t.”

She knows that what I say is true. Others will begin to notice the two brides who are standing together and not dancing. It might make them suspicious that we are planning something. Besides, she enjoys this part of being a bride, and holding her back for my own comfort is selfish.

She slowly nods in agreement, yet her concern is still visible in her eyes. It is not long before another male walks over and asks her to dance. Smiling brightly, she accepts, but just as she’s being led away, she glances over her shoulder at me. “My offer still stands. You say the word.”

Her comment has the desired effect, and a small smile pulls at my lips as I try to restrain my humour. Her offering to kill the prince, while fun to think about, isn’t something that would solve my dilemma.

Alone once more, I watch everyone in the ballroom. Much of my life has been spent alone, so I don’t mind not having anyone beside me. It means I can relax a little. My gaze wanders across the room, and it’s only as I begin my third circuit of the room and the ache in my chest becomes a throb that I realise I’m looking for two people in particular—Havoc and Finnik.

Frustration courses through me, and I focus on that rather than the pining sensation in my chest. Neither of the males seem to be in the ballroom, and I should be grateful for that. While the initial pain of being rejected has eased a little, it has only been replaced by a yearning feeling, which only frustrates me more. Where I would usually enjoy this time to myself, my pent-up feelings are beginning to become overwhelming. My gums ache with the desire to feed, and I need to distract myself before I give into my cravings.

As if summoned by my thoughts, a stranger appears in front of me.

He’s beautiful in an exotic way I’ve never seen before. He has pointed ears and slightly feline features like one of the fae, but his olive skin and the way that he holds himself gives me the impression that he’s something else. What I know for sure is that he isn’t from around here. His blond hair hangs down to his shoulders, with streaks of gold woven through it as though he’s spent a lot of time in the sun. His clean-shaven chin is pointed like that of the fae, and his light blue eyes are piercing as he greets me with a wide smile. The thing that makes him stand out, however, is the tattoo that cuts through the centre of his face, from forehead to chin, then disappears below his neckline. The ink is gold and appears to shimmer, becoming clearer in some lights and almost disappearing in others. They seem like glimmering symbols, and it makes me wish I understood what it says. It is just as beautiful as he is, the swirling symbols so delicate.

The stranger says nothing to me, but his smile is wide and charming, numbing some of the pain of my earlier rejection. He offers me his hand with a flourish, and I see the same golden tattoos on his hands. These swirls and patterns look beautiful, but they give off a vibe that warns you not to mess with him. He doesn’t seem like he wishes me harm though, so I take his proffered hand and follow him out onto the dance floor.

Bowing gracefully, he waits for me to finish my curtsy before pulling me against him and leading me into a dance. I’m immediately swept up into the steps, enjoying the feeling of being pressed against him despite the fact he’s a complete stranger. It doesn’t feel awkward at all, and whoever taught him to dance did an amazing job, every step smooth and graceful.

I have had lessons since I was old enough to walk, so I am proficient in most dances, but as he leads, he makes it seem as easy as breathing. My heart lifts in my chest. He feels like a balm against the wounds to my soul, and I want to stay pressed against him until he takes away all my pain. Our eyes stay locked together as we dance, and something hums with happiness within me. This is more like what I expected a mate bond to be like, not the shambles that mine is.

The song ends, and we slowly drift to a stop, other couples moving around us as they exit the floor and choose their next dance partner. With my heart in my throat, I reluctantly start to step back, knowing it is expected of me to return to my place. Dancing multiple times with the same person is frowned upon, especially when you have a mate.

“I suppose—”

He presses a finger against my lips, stopping anything else I was going to say. His expression is intense, saying a thousand things that words could not express. I have no idea who this stranger is, yet I feel like I have known him forever.

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