Page 46 of Tainted Serenity

“Yes?”

Daxton’s voice is huskier than usual as he speaks to Arthur; no longer does it have that air of authority it has when he is in the security of his office or examination room.

“Dance with Naya.”

“Yes, sir.”

Without waiting for my permission, he grabs my hand and pulls me out to the dance floor. I have no idea how to dance, panic clogging my mind, but Daxton leads the dance well while his hand is raised respectfully above my hip. He doesn’t get too close, and he doesn’t touch me improperly as we dance together with graceful movements.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispers.

“What?”

“I see the panic swirling in your mismatched eyes. Take a deep breath and pretend that you’re enjoying yourself. Arthur and Irene are watching intently.”

I swallow a lump of saliva stuck in my throat as we continue to weave through the floor with the tragic music filling the room with its heartbreaking aura. It tugs at my heart, making it ache as I listen to the beautiful piece.

“Are you okay?” Daxton looks at me with worry glinting in his eyes.

The lump clogs my throat again at his question, feeling the desire to pour my soul out, but knowing I can’t. Even if I don’t know him well, Daxton has been the only solid thing inside this place that burns warmer than hell; he has been there for me through all the pain while he patched me up. I doubt I would have survived if it wasn’t for the hope he slowly instilled within me, wanting more than what this prison can give. Daxton is the best friend I never knew I needed, and I have never had that before.

“Yeah,” I nod my head.

“Good,” he offers me a smile as he continues to lead the dance, never once blaming me for the amount of times I step on his feet.

I despise the fact that my very first dance is with another man who isn’t Grey, and it feels like a betrayal to him in some way, though I do not have another choice. Defying Arthur will make things even worse.

As the song switches into one more speed-up, I suddenly catch sight of a shadow in the corner of the room, scouting for something, which causes a sense of familiarity to wash over me. My heart starts pounding harder as I try to make out who it is, but it’s near impossible with the way we are moving, swirling, and moving again.

As Daxton swirls me one more time, I face the corner close to an arched way beside the grand staircase leading upstairs, and the same man holds something.Someone.

Rather than tender movements, he uses harsh ones, gripping the person’s wrist until it looks as if it hurts. The person he holds does not utter a sound, standing with a posture that radiates confidence. Another twirl, and I have lost sight of the man until Daxton takes me closer to his body, hands landing on my hip, all while I can’t stop looking at the man by the staircase. My eyes lock on his leathered glove gripping the person’s throat, and the gravity of the situation dawns on me, a gut feeling demanding that I have to go there. It’s an intense reaction, like a beacon guiding me to the lighthouse on a dark and stormy night.

My steps falter as I slowly stop the dance while staring over Daxton’s shoulder.

“Excuse me,” I tell him before attempting to walk away from the dance floor.

Daxton cast a glance over his shoulder too, noticing the unknown man standing in the shadows with another woman. He grabs my sore wrist, causing me to wince at the burning sensation. A frown etches across his furrowed brows before he looks back at me, taking me in as if he cannot quite understand me.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I state in a neutral tone, despite wanting to get as far away from Daxton as possible at this moment, my heart racing.

He reluctantly lets me go, and I make a beeline toward the grand staircase before making sure to duck so as not to get caught sneaking out.

I see the familiar, shadowed man dragging the woman toward an arched opening under the staircase leading to an empty corridor, and I follow after without making a sound. I barely dare breathe.

A beacon calls to me, compelling me to unravel the mystery surrounding this familiar man, and I am not sure why I am following him or even lying to Daxton about it. I leave my high heels behind, laying them against the wall so I can sneak after them in silence.

Her colorful curses are heavily thrown at him as they advance further into another empty corridor hidden away, but he isn’t deterred by them. They are too preoccupied to notice me trailing behind, granting me an advantage as I come closer, a rush of adrenaline surging through my veins.

The man rolls up the sleeves of his suit before pushing the woman harshly against the wall, making a whimper come from her. In the chaotic mess inside my head, my heart stutters as I recognize the swirled ink upon his veiny arms. An eagle spreads its wingsacross his wrist while flames surround it in an enchanting pattern. The ink calls to the part of my heart that had once again blackened in the loneliness of his absence. It envelops me now in a warm cocoon that makes all worries fly away, as if the caged bird within me has finally been set free.

All over again, the connection I felt the first time we encountered in the bathroom back at Dankworth Institute washes over me. The erratic nature of the moment makes electricity course through me, forging a bridge between our broken souls, all while I notice the scarring underneath the inked eagle. My demons travel to him despite the distance between us in a beautifully tragic way, until we at last share the same fate and broken parts of ourselves, just as we did at Dankworth Institute.

I’m finally fucking home.

Chapter 19

Naya

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