Page 105 of A City of Flames

“I don’t know this dance either,” I say warily. I do not need a repeat of the Noctura dance.

Darius smiles wide, grabbing my hand. “You don’t have to.”

“Wait, Darius—” I protest, but he pulls me from the chair, dragging my stubbornness to the center. I try to dig the heels of my boots into the wooden floorboards, but he lets go as people start twirling one another, raising their hands in the air to clap in rhythm. Darius disappears from my view as a girl with ebony locks links her arm around mine, facing the opposite way, and smiles. She spins me with small jumps in her step and then switches arms until she passes me onto someone else.

My eyes go round, trying to adjust to a new person. I search for Darius, tipping my head in every direction except each time my partner whirls me around; I’m with another. I squeal with delight as a man of russet locks picks me up from my waist and pivots me before I’m dropped onto the floor, joining arms with him.

The drums beat to the same movement of our feet and clapping of the hands that I forget where I am for a moment. These are all shifters I never thought I’d even as much as approach other than to detain or... kill.

And the reality is they are not so different from a human—from me.

Somehow the scent of mead pervades with the movements, reminding me of home, back when I would join my brothers on the night of Noctura, dancing to the gold stardust falling.

I loosen myself, closing my eyes as a grin sneaks its way onto my lips. Tipping my head back, I continue smiling. Another shifter now holds my hand upward, spinning me consecutively until it all becomes a blur, and I collide with the next person’s front.

A laugh bubbles in my throat as I press my palms against the man’s chest for support, but as I drag my gaze up, the blur becomes a clear image of Darius’s eyes twinkling at me.

“Dreadful dancer, Goldie,” he murmurs brazenly.

“Really?” I drawl. “Because I’d say I took inspiration from you.”

His eyes brighten in mischief. “Ah, so what I’m hearing is that I inspire you,” he states, and before I can retort, he’s grabbing my hand and twisting me outwards.

I shake my head, unable to contain the amusement as he reels me back in and dips me far enough for my eyes to line with the tables and stools upside down.

And just then, the music comes to a stop. Laughter convulses out of me, making my shoulders shake, and my head whips along with my body as he pulls me upright. Everyone else cheers and whistles to the ending of the dance while Darius keeps a grip on my hand up at the side. He inquires, “Have you thought of your first question yet?”

I slow my breathing to an exhale, and any trace of smile flees from my lips. I have too many questions that not even five will suffice. “Not yet,” I say.

His laugh is soft and sultry like a harp as his other hand tightens around my waist. “Make sure each one is worth it, Goldie.”

They will be, at least, I hope.

A different sound of music plays, a bright tone from the fiddle. Darius and I don’t move as others start to dance again. He looks as if he’s tracing my entire face with a certain stare that’s unrecognizable. I’d question him with annoyance, but a woman appears, tapping his arm.

He glances over his shoulder as she asks him for a dance. When he looks back at me, I shift away from his hold in a daze. I nod for the girl to do as she pleases with Darius, and I make my way up to the bar counter where Gus stands behind it, overlooking the entire tavern.

“He’s a wild one, huh?” He gestures his chin towards Darius.

“Worse than that, I’d say,” I mumble, sliding my bottom up onto the stool. My feet dangle off the barrel as I stare at Darius, now lifting the girl off the floor and spinning her around. I can just about hear her laugh over the instruments.

Gus chuckles, but it quietens, and then he says, “It’s rare you get these moments.”

That draws my attention away from Darius and onto Gus as I frown. “What do you mean?”

He rests his forearms against the counter. “Well, despite him salvaging creatures and playing a game here or two, the nights always end with him drinking far too much.”

“So, it’s rare to see him sober?” I analyze, tipping my head forward.

“It’s rare to see him himself,” he clarifies, and his gaze returns to Darius with a sigh. “That boy has dealt with too much since a young age. Trust doesn’t exist for him. It took him one drunken night to tell me a snippet of his life.” His words take me off guard, and my frown only deepens as he looks at me pensively. “But with you, it seems like you are the first he trusts.”

Silence flakes off me. I don’t know what to say or how to respond to such an assumption. Trust is the last thing I’d have imagined between us. Before, I’d wanted to kill him, capture him, and still to this day, he aggravates me in more ways than one. Why would he trust me?

I look at Darius one more time, Tibith now joins him, rolling up his shoulder, and I wonder why I’m even trusting him myself.

* * *

I graze my thumb over the crescent carving as Darius and I walk through the forest. It’d become nightfall by the time we left the den. Tibith had ventured back to the cottage while Darius knew my silence and a wandering mind meant it was time for me to head to the city.

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