Page 55 of A Story of Sinners

Civility was in my best interest for now, while I figured out my next steps. If I chose to stay and take more time to decide, Aiden and I would need to have a courteous relationship moving forward. A very delicate relationship, considering the history between us, but a relationship, nonetheless.

My outward politeness meant nothing, though. One day, I would end him. It may take days, weeks, or years, but my face would be the last one he ever saw.

He waved me to the dais as he sat on his throne, George standing slightly behind his chair. Gabriella sat next to him, and I took position at her back, forming the false image of a united front.

“Thank you,” Aiden whispered. “I would like to end this on a solid note.”

I only nodded in response.

“I’m hoping you choose to stay,” he continued with a low whisper.

My fists clenched at my sides. The song for the first dance ended, and the harpist picked up pace, shifting to a darker tune. Some people left the dance floor for a momentary reprieve, while others switched partners and took their stances. The slightest sound of a drumbeat started, building in volume and joining in with the harpist. Then entered the lute, the viol, and an orchestra of other string instruments.

The crowd parted as Malachi approached the dais. His dark armor had been done away with for the night, replaced by a fitted, black silk jacket and matching trousers. The jacket had slits cut in the back for his wings, which flexed as he walked. His wavy, blue-black hair was slicked back, horns poking through. He was a sight to see, dressed in expensive mortal wear with that crown of bones around his head.

I was sure many women would fawn over him tonight, despite what he represented. He’d always had a way about him, one that made others drop to their knees and worship the ground he walked on. Few members of the Order truly saw the deep sadistic streak that lived within him.

I’d felt that way too before—I had found him intoxicating, worthy of worship, but once he’d started killing and tormenting others in the name of possession, I’d lost those feelings.

It would take an act of a higher power to make me feel that way once again, because after all was said and done, there was a deep wound that could only be filled by the one who’d caused it. I’d questioned whether my feelings for Ryken had been real, and now, I knew the honest truth—it didn’t matter if we were mated or not, predestined or assigned. It didn’t matter how much we hurt each other, broke each other, or healed each other. Ryken would forever be stamped on my soul.

I only wished he felt the same.

Regardless of the pain, I would keep moving, because if anything, life went on, whether we were ready for it or not.

Malachi halted before the dais with two reinforcements at his back in the form of shades. Aiden froze beneath the glare of the creatures behind him, but Malachi bent into a low bow as he held his hand out. “Duana, do me the honor of dancing with me.”

Nervous anxiety filled me, and my hands twisted together behind Gabriella’s throne. I’d already made the mistake of misleading one man, and I refused to make the same mistake twice.

“I don’t think I can, Malachi, but thank you for the offer.”

He remained unmoving, and George dug his elbow into my side. “Do it. Our survival depends on this treaty.”

I rolled my eyes and made my way down the steps, taking Malachi’s hand. He finally rose from his bow and hooked his arm into mine, all while wearing a smirk on his face. Then, he led us to the dance floor, halting at the center of the crowd.

“I avoid dancing, Malachi. I’m not very good at it.”

“Just follow along,” he instructed as he laid his arm around my waist, centering his palm at the small of my back. Then, he moved. His every step was timed to the beat, just as dramatic as his personality. I followed along with his pace for fear of falling flat on my face.

His steps were easy enough to follow, easier than I could have imagined. He used the hand on the small of my back to guide me along. His turquoise eyes never strayed from mine, not once. Even as he dipped me backwards and pulled me back, the eye contact never ceased. He twirled me; once, twice, and again, leaving me breathless.

“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked as we moved around the perimeter of the room.

His answer was unsatisfactory, as usual. “I found a way to learn whatever I wished while I’d been imprisoned.”

“Through the sight you mentioned?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I used to spy on you, and when I got bored, I would spy on the balls that seemed to be hosted fairly often. You didn’t do much besides read and sneak out to taverns with that witch. I had unlimited time to experience the world outside the Otherworld without actually living in it. You would be surprised of the secrets I know about everyone in this room.”

“I’d love to hear a secret.”

“Pick someone.”

My gaze cast around the room as we spun, landing on George’s sour expression. “George.”

“Oh, that one has tons of them, the little rake. You see that older lady on the Lord of the Second Land’s arm?”

My eyes spotted them, dancing alongside us. They both appeared to be eighty years old. “Yes.”

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