Page 57 of Cryptic Dreams

Table manners apply to the Counsel table.

Posture straight, hands in your lap. Do not get up until you are excused, so you better pee before the meeting starts and hold it if the urge hits during.

Accept anything offered with reverent grace and many thanks because simply being in the presence of the elders is an honor, so receiving something from one of them is a huge deal. And if you don’t want to end up on the High Elder’s shit list, avert your eyes only then out of respect.

That’s the gist of things. Be incredibly polite, agreeable and respectful and I shouldn’t have any problems.

But that also brings us to the final point in Counsel meeting etiquette as well as the part of my night I’m extremely uncomfortable with—dress for success.

At least that’s what I’ve been calling it because Wraith said it wasdressing for the opportunity to insert your head so far up the High Elder’s arse there’s no telling you were ever two separate beings to begin with. I laughed when he said that but my mate didn’t seem to think it was very funny. Not until I started mimicking his beautiful accent anyway, then he graced me with an absolutely gorgeous smile before he told me my Welsh accent wasshite.

It wasn’t until we were walking through the shop we’re currently in that the nerves started to kick in, and even when Wraith pressed his hand to the small of my back to guide me through the very high end boutique, they only subsided a little. And now that I’m staring at myself in the mirror wearing a dress I’d have to spend most of my savings on to afford, those nerves are through the roof.

I don’t ever dress like this. I’veneverdressed like this before. I wear pencil skirts and blouses with flats and cardigans to work. I definitely look the part of a stereotypical librarian, and when I’m not working it’s ratty sweatpants and worn tank tops under oversized sweaters and hoodies. I do have one pair of jeans and a couple pairs of leggings, and maybe a few random t-shirts, but since I never go anywhere that requires me to dress any differently than my two standard uniforms, that’s the extent of it. Which is why I settled on leggings, a nicer tank top and my best sweater for my night out with Wraith. It isn't much and feels very inadequate next to his button up and slacks, but it works for now and allows for easy changing while trying things on.

And since my gifts are touch based, I always make sure I cover up as much of my skin as possible in case I accidentally bump into someone.

I still haven’t told Wraith about that. Or about why I freaked out when he touched me the first time. I know he’s curious but he hasn’t made it an issue, and when I asked if wearing gloves was a problem in front of the Great Counsel, he just said it would be fine and that his mother would probably want to make it a requirement for the rest of the females.

My gloves seem pretty silly now, though.

I can’t imagine wearing them would do much to prevent something from happening when so much of my upper body is exposed in a dress like the one I’m wearing.

It’s a tiered velvet trumpet gown with a slit up one side that hits at about my knee. A deep red, almost burgundy color, with a sweetheart neckline that dips a little low between my breasts, and a cold shoulder with cuff short sleeves around my biceps. The tulle of the skirt is beautiful, the edges the same color of the dress but lighten as they disappear under each layer. It’s stunning really, and it hugs my figure in a way that emphasizes my hourglass shape. And the color? Totally makes my skin glitter and eyes pop.

I feel like a princess, but I am not even remotely equipped or comfortable enough—despite the way the fabric is extremely soft against my body—to pull something like this off. And it’s only the first dress I’ve tried on.

“Zephyr, love, are you going to come out or am I going to have to come in?”

I bite my lip again and check over my reflection one more time, then with a deep breath that I absolutely hold, I grab the knob and open the door of the dressing room.

“Bloody hell… ” Wraith whispers, his spine straightening, his eyes instantly roaming every inch of me.

I drop my gaze to the dress and smooth out the already wrinkle free fabric over my stomach. “I’m not sure if this is the one. It’s beautiful, but I—”

“You look bloody incredible, love.”

My eyes dart to his and what I see there, oh my god, it makes me so glad I didn’t listen to his half joking comment about not wearing underwear for the sake of panty lines.

I seeheat.

So much heat and desire in those obsidian eyes. Lust that I’ve only read about in books. Intense and unrestrained approval.

Andlove.

So much love shines from those abyss-like orbs, and how I can even see any of that reflected in them is beyond me, but I do, and it has definitely made a mess of my panties.

Wraith grins at me from the chair he’s sitting in, sinks a little lower and spreads his thighs as he relaxes. “Spin a bit, yeah? Let me get the full effect.”

He twirls his finger for emphasis and even with the ridiculous amount of need coursing through my veins, I roll my eyes and do what he asked.

Then I almost stumble on my bare feet when I face him and find that Wraith is fully erect and palming his very,veryobvious dick through his slacks.

“Wraith!” I hiss, my gaze bouncing around the relatively empty boutique. “Stop that!”

His grin grows, becoming a little evil and a lot pretty. “Stop what, love?” He squeezes his erection then keeps rubbing.

“That!” I whisper-shout and point. “Someone could see you.”

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