Page 157 of Wings of Ash & Flame
“May I cut in?” Though phrased as a question, it was a declaration—a command barely disguised as civility. His gaze was intense, unyielding. A spark of something dangerous flickered to life in her chest.
Caelan angled himself between them, nostrils flaring. “It’s up to her.” His grip on her waist tightened for a beat before he released her.
Without a word, Dawson extended his hand toward Alaire, delicate black lines snaking beneath his cuff. An unmistakable challenge gleamed in his eyes, a half-smirk tugging at his mouth.
She hated how easily her carefully crafted control unraveled around him. Hated that her breath caught in her throat. The cocky bastard knew exactly the commotion he was causing.
The music transitioned to a haunting melody, coiling and building before breaking wide.
Alaire knew she should step back into Caelan’s arms. It would’ve served the plan. But it was too late. She was alreadyentangled in Dawson’s orbit, drawn like a fallen star into the gravity of a black hole. All she could do was hope to survive the inevitable collision.
His aggression shouldn’t arouse her, but gods, it did. The fire blazing in his cold, unyielding eyes—ignited something reckless deep inside her. Something she couldn’t afford, but couldn’t extinguish either.
For tonight, it seemed she was willing to walk through flames.
Alaire didn’t want to insult Caelan’s kindness, but Dawson’s hand remained steady, confidence unwavering. She felt the weight of his gaze like a physical caress.
Stepping out of Dawson’s reach, she pressed a kiss to Caelan’s cheek. “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll catch up with you later.”
A growl rumbled low in Dawson’s throat.
“It was the highlight of my evening, Alaire. House Aqualis will always welcome you with open arms.” Caelan reached for her hand, moving to kiss her knuckles.
“Not a fucking chance.” Dawson ripped Caelan’s hand from hers.
Caelan’s eyes flashed, jaw tightening as he stepped forward. “I believe the lady can make her own choices?—”
Alaire stepped between them before it escalated, giving Caelan a quick hug. “Thank you for the lovely evening,” she said, offering him an apologetic look. With one last bow—and pointed glare at Dawson—he headed toward the balcony.
Facing the brooding prince, she hesitated, teetering on a ledge. It was dangerous, exhilarating. He could’ve chosen anyone. Every eligible person in the ballroom would’ve melted at his invitation, would’ve given anything for those turquoise eyes to look at them the way he was looking at her—as if she were air, and he was drowning.
Her slender fingers curled around Dawson’s palm. A jolt shot through her at the contact. His thumb brushed her knuckles, barely a whisper of movement, and she fought to keep her breath steady.
He will destroy me.
But in that moment, she didn’t care.
Dawson pulled her close as the melody echoed their tension. His eyes roamed slowly over her figure, taking in the sleek, form-fitting gown, lingering long enough to make her skin flush.
Alaire was acutely aware of how little space remained between them.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered huskily. “You look exquisite tonight. I can barely breathe looking at you.” His words scorched her.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. She couldn’t catch her breath beneath the weight of his gaze.
She should push him away, remind herself of the impossibility between them. They were from two different worlds, too different. Yet her heart begged for things it had no business wanting.
What was it about Dawson Knox that unraveled her so easily? Like a spool of thread strewn across the floor. How effortlessly he tied her into knots: longing and fury, desire and resentment.
Dawson Knox gazed at her as if she were the only thing that mattered.
And for just a few moments, she let herself bask in it.
“Firework, you were made to wear a crown.” His voice was a low, teasing rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
He looked at her as though he would willingly burn for her.
Dawson’s grip on her hips tightened. She felt his heateverywhere. Her blood sizzled, his breath fanning across her lips.
