Page 47 of Perilous Healing

“Shall we?”

“It seems we have no choice,” I all but growl.

“Don’t be so grumpy,” Michael says. “Could be worse.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be silent?” I ask quietly.

Michael chuckles. “It’s okay to make the most out of a situation, Williamson.”

I guide Bianca over to the dance floor and she snakes her good arm up over my neck. Given I can’t hold her other hand, I keep both on her waist and we begin to move slowly to the music.

She moves in closer, leaning her head against my chest so she can keep her gaze on River without seeming suspicious. I close my eyes, taking just a moment to appreciate the way she feels against me. The way we fit.

How many nights did I dream of her?

There were moments I craved running for my life, because I’d been blissfully unaware of who she was, and focused on doing just what Michael said—making the most out of a bad situation.

When did I stop doing that? When did I stop being so positive?

Because even after everything I’d suffered through, I’d retreated, sure, but I’d still been relatively positive about life.

And then Sierra’s death changed everything.

I take a deep breath.

“You okay?” she asks, pulling away to look up at me. I’m captivated by the golden flecks in her emerald eyes, and the way the light makes the green of her dress shimmer.

Despite the danger we’re in, the risk if this plan goes sideways, I find myself relaxing just slightly here in her presence. Because with Bianca in my arms, the darkness surrounding us feels a bit lighter.

“I am,” I reply, sincerely hoping it stays that way.

Chapter14

Bianca

River hasn’t left the ballroom the entire time we’ve been here. He’s talked to nearly everyone in attendance, laughing and sharing drinks as though he’s not a monster masquerading as a man. I can see through the charming smile, though, to the evil man beneath.

Silas and I have been all over the dance floor, trying to get close enough to him to overhear something that could be of use—all while trying to ignore the energy buzzing between us. Not that I know whether or not he’s feeling it too. I just can’t imagine I’d be this affected if he’s not in the slightest.

The feel of his arms around me is something I’ll never forget.

“Dinner time!” an announcer calls out.

The music stops.

Silas keeps his arm on me as servers pull out the dining room chairs in unison. It’s almost creepy, the way they move as a singular unit, prepping the spots for everyone. Together, we watch as the guests take their seats, laughing happily as they do so.

Do these people know what River is? Or are they all playing their part?

“Miss Selena Culvers!” the announcer calls out. “Here.” He holds out a chair directly to River’s left at the head of the table. I look to Silas, who maintains his hold on my arm for a moment.

“Mr. Silas Williamson!” another announcer calls, then pulls out the chair across from mine, directly to River’s right.

“Come, sit,” River orders as he gestures toward the chairs. “We’re all waiting on you.”

I turn around, scanning the room for anyone else who might still be standing, only to find that we’re the only ones who haven’t taken their seats. When did that happen?

Slowly, Silas guides me over toward my chair, then helps me sit and growls at the server behind me. The man pales slightly, then backs away and lets Silas push my chair in. Then, with eyes on River, he walks around the table and sits directly across from me.

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