Page 3 of Falling Princess

I strode into the seething mass of dancers, putting my hands above my head and wiggling past writhing bodies. A wall of heat pressed in on me from all sides. The music—if you can call it that, it’s all bass that reverberates through my chest—changed tempo. I mimicked the movements of those around me, hips gyrating. My hair stuck sweatily to my neck and back. It’s a primal beat, unlike anything you hear in Auralia—new and modern. I may not like it, but I love the way it makes me feel. Unburdened by power, by the future.

Free.

I moved. I danced like there was no tomorrow. I’m Cinderella in reverse, a princess fleeing the royal life she never asked for, if only until dawn.

If I survive that long. Worth the risk, to me.

* * *

Not five minutes passed between my escape to the dance floor and my next glimpse of Lorcan. I growled with frustration and slid sideways between two women in tiny skirts, pink wigs and bikini tops, covered in glowing paint. They did exactly nothing to deter my pursuer. You’d think a heterosexual man would at least be momentarily distracted. If he noticed them, he gave no sign.

His hand encircled my arm. Gentle. Firm.

I tried to shake him off and accidentally hit a guy dancing next to me. He looked at me askance and said something I couldn’t understand. My Mandarin is terrible under the best of circumstances; forget trying to shout over booming bass. From the way he glanced at me, then Lorcan, I surmise he’s asking whether I need help. I shook my head to indicate that I didn’t speak the language.

He apparently interpreted this to mean that I wasn’t in danger—which is true, Lorcan wouldn’t hurt me—and that I was okay with being grabbed in the middle of a dance floor—which I am not.

I jerked my hand upward again, and to my surprise, he let go.

I wiggled away through the crowd. Damn my hair. It’s so recognizable, even in strange lighting. I wish I blended in better here. My features are distinctly not Chinese. I’m not Caucasian, not North African, not Asian, but a uniquely Auralian mix of all three.

Seconds later, Lorcan blocked me again.

How does hedothat?

It’s too loud to yell at him.Go away. You’re not wanted here. I don’t need you.Instead, I pushed him in the center of his chest. My palm met a warm, slightly damp wall of muscle beneath a layer of cotton. He didn’t even rock back on his heels.

Raina grabbed me from behind. Ordinarily, I crave physical contact. I get so little of it. But not when people are trying to stop me from doing things I badly want to do, like now.

Not when I’m feeling the sting of betrayal.

She bumped hard against me, close enough to shout into my ear, “We have to go.”

I shook my head.

“Yes. Zosia. Now.”

No explanation as to why we have to rush out when we’ve barely arrived. Granted, it’s difficult to talk, between the seething bodies and throbbing bass. Still—we were fine until Lorcan showed up. We’re still fine! There’s no reason to leave now.

Raina gave me a little push so I stumbled a step toward him. His strobe-lit expression is stony and sharp-featured, all hard angles and planes except for the soft fringe of lashes around his eyes and the plump center of his lower lip.

A fluttery sensation in my stomach. I imagined kissing him for the span of half a second, then shook myself with disgust. I would never betray Raina that way, even if I liked him, which I don’t.

If I ever get to kiss someone, itdefinitelywon’t be Lorcan. He…unsettles me.

I can’t figure out how he cleared a path through the dance floor so easily, but he did. Herding me out. Ihatehim.

Seconds later, the air turned cooler, the press of bodies eased. I could breathe and hear again. Barely. My frustration was a roiling pressure in my chest.

“We’re caught, Zosh. We have to leave, now.”

“We wouldn’t havebeencaught if you hadn’t toldhim,” I grumbled, as though Lorcan weren’t standing right beside us to overhear. Raina’s gaze cut away from mine.

“I didn’t think it was safe to be without a way to contact Cata in an emergency,” Raina hissed. “I brought my phone. He saw the tracking signal leave the hotel and texted me, so I asked him to join us. I thought we could all hang out together.” Crestfallen, she added, “I didn’t mean to ruin our evening.”

Fury at her stupidity chokes me. Rainaknowsour phones are tracked. We planned this forweeks. She blew my one chance to get away from the pressure for a few hours and justbe,all because she couldn’t bear to spend one night away from herstupid crush.

Some friend.

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