“Worked closely,” Lancaster echoed.
“Well, if they don’t teach you manners, at least they teach you to listen,” I grumbled, draining the rest of my drink.
“Did working closely entail intimate matters?”
The wine I’d just swallowed nearly came back up as I choked, and Ophelia hissed, patting my back.
“Excuse me?” I sneered.
“Were you?—”
I cut him off with a hand to his chest, dumping my empty glass on a nearby table. I ignored the way my palm buzzed to the same melody as my chest when I touched him. “I did not mean you to clarify,” I sputtered. “Under no circumstances is thatyourbusiness.”
There went that ticking jaw again. “It is much more my business than you understand.”
His voice was so low and harsh, it rolled against my skin. And under no circumstance did I enjoy it. That wasn’t something low within my core clenching tight or heat gathering between my legs. It wasn’t me shuffling forward a step, pressing onto my toes.
“In no realm, under no God or Angel rule, is that true,” I hissed. Could he hear how breathy my voice had become? It was the burning anger. That was all.
Lancaster’s hand cupped mine where it was still pressed to his chest, an impossible fire searing the air. When his skin brushed mine,everythingwithin me hummed.
And as if he felt it, too, and that string was pulling his voice tight, his next words were barely audible. “If only you were correct.”
This damn Bounty instinct was dragging me toward him.Kill. Slaughter. Enemy.That’s what was happening. The instinct wanted to unravel the Hunter, to become his prey if only to strike when his defenses were down. It was messing with my senses, layering his last five words with…
Fire.
Firethat was suddenly tearing through me. I jolted back, trying to wrench my hand from his chest, but Lancaster held it tighter.
“Dance with me,” he said.
“Wh-what?” I blinked up at him. All annoyance drained from my tone, shock emptying out my chest. Not even the string hummed.
“Dance with me, Queen of Bounties,” Lancaster repeated, holding my stare.
“Are you asking me to dance or demanding it?” was all I could think to say.
“It is an option,” he said, finally dropping my hand. My palm tingled, but instead of the Bounty sense, this time it was a rush of emptiness. “But I would prefer one outcome over the other.”
“In all of your non-immortal years, you haven’t learned of a better way to ask a woman to dance than that?” I challenged.
Lancaster squinted at me. “I am not normally attempting to win over women such as yourself.”
“What does that mean?” I stiffened, defensiveness instantly rearing up with him.
Ophelia muttered beneath her breath, “You’re not very good at this, fae.”
Lancaster barely glanced at her, focus on me. “Dance with me, and I will explain myself.”
“That’s still not a question.” Gods, thisinsufferablemale. “But fine,” I bit out.
And he…smiled? It was soft, genuine, and I thought maybe a bit insecure. I didn’t understand, but at the sight, the humming in my heart mounted again.
Slipping his hand into the cool emptiness of my still-tingling palm, Lancaster pulled me onto the dance floor. I ignored Ophelia’s pointed looks as one hand held mine, the other curling around my back to hold me close to him. The scent of iron-tinged roses fell around us like a curtain, shrouding the rest of the warriors spinning through the room.
“Now you have me here,” I said after a moment, trying to ignore the heat of Lancaster’s palm pressing against my spine. “Explain.”
He sighed, and it sounded like a weight pressed firmly on his chest. “Must you always assume the worst of me?”
