Page 72 of Fate Calls the Elf Queen

She scooped it up and read, printed on the glossy black box in gold foil lettering,gods and goddesses.Underneath a note was attached.Don’t start expecting gifts from me, but you need this. ~Hel

Layala rolled her eyes and set both notes and the box on the dresser. She’d have to look at it later, but her curiosity was certainly piqued.

* * *

With a nervous smile,Layala looked down at her dress one more time as she arrived at the double entrance doors to the ballroom. The guards stepped away from their positions and held up their hands. “Invitation, please.”

Layala lifted her mask, “It’s me.”

The guard dipped his head apologetically. “Welcome, Lady Lightbringer.”

The plucking of a harp, flutes and other string and wind instruments in a lovely tune drifted out from the ballroom. Rows and groups of standing and dancing guests dressed in their most luxurious attire filled the room. Some maidens wore white gowns with golden suns and masks to match. Others dark blues and purples with glitter shaped like starbursts. Not everyone wore celestial-themed attire, but many did, making it easy for her to slip in amongst the crowd unnoticed.

Navy-blue tapestries trimmed in gold draped over the large, rounded windows encrusted in gold trim. Crystal chandeliers with hundreds of burning candles drenched the room with soft light. Layala scanned the crowd for Hel, nerves making her stomach tense, but among the many masked males in nearly identical suits, it would be hard to find him. Who was his date? He could enchant anyone to hang on his arm, even Piper or… Aunt Evalyn.

Although the thought of him stepping in with Talon on his arm just to piss off Thane almost made her giggle. Layala didn’t see either of them yet, but she spotted Piper next to Leif, the two redheads were hard to miss standing against the wall on the left side of the room. Her green dress stood out right away as did her peacock-feathered mask. She laughed at something he said and gave him a small push on the shoulder. Leif might be a bit uncouth, but he was always good for a laugh.

Thane stood alone on the dais, hands resting at his sides, looking in her direction. Even if no one else noticed her entrance, he did. She smiled and warmth seeped out from her chest. Maker, he was beautiful. An off-white jacket, black pants, a golden mask with half a sun flaring out on the left side of his face brought out the flecks of warmth in his dark brown hair. A golden crown adored his head tonight even if he preferred his dark silver one.

Layala moved along the outside edge of the room, heels tapping lightly as she crossed the glossy pearl floor. She lifted the front of her dress and one of the servants took her gloved hand and helped up the steps.

Thane met her at the top. Her eyes followed the outline of his suit, cut perfectly, bringing out his broad shoulders and trim waist. She expected Thane to smile and tell her how beautiful she was, or at the very least greet her, but with his hands fisted at his sides, and the firm set of his jaw, he didn’t appear happy to see her.

“Is something wrong? I know the other night wasn’t… ideal. I just want you to know I understand even if I don’t agree.” They hadn’t talked about his willingness to please her but not go any further and how either of them felt about it.

His long stretch of silence while inspecting every inch of her might make a girl blush, if he wasn’t clearly annoyed, maybe even hurt, while doing so.

“Thane?”

“Go back upstairs and take that dress off,” he whispered, a little more snappy than usual.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember that dress, do you? Tell me you don’t remember it, Laya.” The wild look in his green eyes, brought out even more by the mask, made her step closer to him and grip his hand.

“No, but I’m assuming you do.” And Hel knew it would have an effect on him.

“That bastard.” He turned away and swore again. “Just when I think maybe the ice is melting and he isn’t such a prick, he does this.”

She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, turning him to face her again. “Talk to me about it. It’s alright.”

Staring down at her with agony he said, “That is the dress you wore the day youmarriedHel. You know what this is? Him reminding me yet again, you loved him first, you married him first. So, wear something else, anything else.”

Layala’s jaw dropped. Somewhere in the back of her mind a different tune apart from the music in this room played. The ghost of warm hands slid across her waist. “Everything that is mine is now yours, love—my territory, my power, my heart, my body, my soul, yours forever,”and that deep, soothing, honey-rich voice wasn’t Thane’s. It was Hel’s.

Layala shook her head clearing it away and said, “As much as I’d like to change, he said if I don’t wear it, he’ll hurt Piper. So, remind him, I left. Remind him who I’m with now. I bet he’s watching.”

Thane glanced about the room but didn’t stop in any one place among the hundreds in attendance. Once he turned back to her, he smiled. “I like that idea.”

Now calm and composed, Thane dropped his bright eyes to her mouth. His big hands gripped her waist and pulled her into him. A moment later their lips met. The kiss was soft at first, appropriate for a public setting and then, it deepened. His tongue explored her mouth, making her heart race. His arms wrapped around her, possessive and wanting more. When they finally pulled apart, he smirked and adjusted her mask. “You do look very beautiful. It’s going to be difficult to stay out of your room tonight. It’s difficult every night.”

Layala chuckled. “You must like pain.”

“Apparently so. But waiting will make it that much better. All the built-up tension,” his finger lightly trailed over her collarbone, “the nights I spend dreaming about what I will do to you when it’s time. If you’ll have me then.”

Layala shuddered at his touch and brought her arms around his neck. “Your teasing is the sweetest torment,” she said. “I like this side of you much better. I don’t like broody Thane. You’re supposed to be my bright sun, and I the moody, temperamental night. Teach me another dance?” She might remember the steps of the Kenatara from the Summer Solstice festival, but she thought that it might be only for that day.

“I’d love nothing more. Listen to the music, feel it and I’ll guide your steps.” He cupped her waist with one hand and took the other into his grip. “Right foot back,” he stepped forward and she stepped back, “left step, right step, forward.” He led every move, but never took his eyes off hers. “Very good. You’re a natural. It must be all your years of fight training footwork.”

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