Page 136 of An Unexpected Ascension
“Looking for me?”
“Mmhm.” He closes the distance between us, offering me his hand to help me stand.
As he tugs me to my feet, I wobble, the heels of my stilettoes nearly snapping beneath me. With a soft, knowing smile, he places one of my palms against his shoulder as he kneels. Slowly, he unbuckles the black strap around my ankle and slips one shoe off before doing the same with the other.
“Don’t need you falling.”
“I thought that’s exactly what you wanted.”
He chuckles, grabbing the wine glass from my hand. It disappears like smoke in the wind.
“There’s a very distinct difference between falling and falling for me. I’d prefer the latter. You’remuch prettier intact.”
My veins hum with liquor, the intoxication from too much wine is making me giddy. Any other day, I might have rolled my eyes or walked away, but tonight his words are everything.
Still kneeling on the ground, his eyes drink in every inch of me from my bare feet to my milky pale skin peeking out beneath the slit in my dress to my breasts wrapped in a deep violet silk. Finally, those navy eyes meet mine and I feel a flush bleeding beneath the skin on my face.
He stands, now towering over me without the added height of my heels. His thumbs brush the sides of my breasts as his palms curl around my ribcage. Naturally, my arms warp around his neck.
“What do you need?” I breathe, desperately trying to avoid how his face hovers over mine.
“A dance.”
“A dance?”
“Yes. One dance with you.”
Lynx snaps his fingers, and a symphony of chords strum together in a haunting melody. He pulls me into his chest, one hand threaded through mine with the other still on my waist. As smoothly as if he was born to waltz, he leads us around the training room in rhythm to the song. The skirt of my dress swirls behind me as we dance.
For a moment, I feel alive again. I feel as though I’m seventeen, dancing the stress away in my backyard. Sweating and moving like each variation could separate me from the shit weighing me down.
“You’re smiling.” He points out.
It’s muscle memory. The relentless smiling with each performance, held just as surely as my posture. Suddenly, I feel overly aware of what my face is doing, what I’m doing. Mid-twirl, my feet trip over each other. The alcohol from tonight possessing my limbs and rendering them useless. All that poise, control, perfection I once had is gone, nonexistent, as I stumble to the stone floor.
My back slams against concrete, my breath stolen with the impact. Or maybe it’s from the demon that I’ve accidentally draggeddown with me. His weight presses against me as his hands fight the hair that’s crowded my face.
“Dammit, Briar. Are you okay?”
I open my mouth, but words escape me. Instead, a fit of giggles take their place. A broody face greets me as my obstructed gaze is cleared, but slowly that grimace turns upward, his lips now stretching into a full smile.
“I thought this would go a little differently,” he admits.
“I used to be much better, but I haven’t practiced in years.”
Lynx lifts onto his knees allowing me to sit up.
“You’re covered in dirt.” He laughs, running his hands through my hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Chapter 42
The Angel
He accompanies me down the stairs and to the West Wing of Lucifer’s manor, pausing at my door.
“I’ll just?—”
“I’m going to need your help,” I cut him off. “With my dress.”
