Chapter 11

“Come now,” Meredith said. “I need you both in the center. Prince Lysander, take your place.”

I stepped forward and joined Seraphina under the golden light spilling from the chandelier above. The polished marble beneath my boots gleamed like the reflection of moonlight on black glass. Meredith waved me closer.

“The Shahar,” she began, her tone didactic and sharp, “is more than a dance. It is the soul’s response to passion, the body’s answer to courtship. There are three flows—each more intimate than the last. The first, Vareth, symbolizes curiosity. The second, Shavari, symbolizes pursuit. The final, Korthai, symbolizes surrender.”

Seraphina made a sound between a laugh and a cough. “You mean we have to act out surrender in front of hundreds of guests?”

“Not act,” Meredith snapped. “You must feel. The dance only works if it’s real. Fae magic will sense falseness and dull the impact.”

I stepped closer to Seraphina. Her breath caught. Her eyes locked onto mine, wide, vulnerable, heated.

“I suppose we’re starting with Vareth?” I asked.

Meredith nodded. “Yes. Now—hands on her hips. Gently.”

I obeyed, placing my hands on her waist. Her skin was warm, silken beneath my fingertips. Her breath hitched again, and I felt the flutter of her pulse through her ribs. Her hands slowly rose to rest against my shoulders.

“Good,” Meredith murmured. “Now… lead her. Flow with her.”

We began to move.

At first, our bodies barely touched. We glided in circles, a measured and careful rhythm. But as the music in the background picked up tempo—drums with a heartbeat’s pulse, violins threading desire into the air—our movements grew closer.

Seraphina arched into me, her chest brushing mine. I slid one hand up her back, the other dipping lower, anchoring her by the curve of her waist. Her breath whispered against my neck.

We flowed. Slowly, then more fiercely.

I could feel the fire building in both of us. Her thigh slid between mine. My hips pressed into hers. The dance demanded it. We couldn’t fake this. Her magic brushed mine, tentative, then crackling. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin; I could feel it watching me through her gaze, evaluating… wanting.

She twirled beneath my arm, her skirt flaring. When she returned to my chest, our bodies locked, and we stood there panting—sweat sheening our skin, the air heavy with our mingled scent.

Meredith clapped once. “Passable,” she declared. “Now we’ll move to Shavari.”

Seraphina groaned.

I wasn’t sure I’d survive Korthai.

I met Seraphina’s bottom with each thrust of my hips, my pelvis rocking into her backside in time with the music’s sultry rhythm. My hands slid down the curves of her waist, fingers digging into her hips where porcelain skin met muscle and heat. That wasn’t part of Meredith’s instructions—but the wolf princess didn’t seem to mind.

No, she pushed harder into me, throwing her head back against my shoulder with a low moan that vibrated through my chest. She was lost to the rhythm, to me, and I to her. My cock, stiff and eager, pressed against the swell of her ass, seeking more friction than the silk of her training gown allowed. Stars, I was seconds away from saying screw the Shahar—dragging her out of this gilded ballroom and into my bed, where I could bury myself in her heat long and hard until she howled my name.

I gripped her hips and spun her around to face me, then dipped her backward. Her hair cascaded toward the marble floor like a crimson waterfall. Surprise lit her amber-gold eyes as I trailed my hand down the supple length of her thigh, bending her leg to hook over mine. Her hand flew up to the nape of my neck, gripping tight for balance—or maybe for something more.

A wicked grin curled my lips.

Her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. Her pupils were wide, blown dark with desire. The barest sheen of sweat graced her collarbones.

“You’re good at this,” Sera panted, her voice low and breathy. “Why…am I not surprised?”

“I’ve had a few lessons,” I murmured, letting my voice drop into a seductive purr. “But there’s still so much I could teach you. Things that would surprise you greatly.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she blinked slowly up at me—dazed, needy. Goddess, she was beautiful when she unraveled. And I wanted to be the one to undo every strand.

Clapping broke the spell.

Meredith stood at the edge of the dance floor, her hands clasped together, her stern face alight with something bordering on glee. “Well done,” she said. “Not bad for your first Shahar. Not bad at all.”

I straightened, pulling Seraphina upright with me. Her leg slipped from mine, but I kept my hands at her waist. She didn’t pull away. Her amber eyes locked on me, darkened to molten gold, pupils dilated with lust. The scent of her desire was intoxicating—wild honey and something darker, primal.

Her claws bit lightly into the back of my neck. A low growl rumbled from her chest—a seductive warning that made my cock throb with need.

She was mine.

Or she could be.

Then—

A sharp inhale from the ballroom’s entrance.

My head whipped to the sound.

A female shadow fae stood frozen in the threshold. Her chocolate-brown hair spilled over her shoulders, and her silver eyes were wide with disbelief. Tears brimmed quickly at the edges.

Rosalina.

Shit.

A jagged stone of dread dropped in my gut.

Seraphina turned slowly to see what I was looking at. Her gaze locked on Rosalina, and a snarl curled her lip. Her canines lengthened, eyes narrowing as fury bled into every inch of her posture. Her claws pressed deeper into my back.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Rosalina backed away—one step, two. Her silver eyes shimmered with betrayal. She shook her head, lips trembling. A hateful glare shot through me like lightning. Then she turned and fled.

“Rosalina!” I barked, instinctively stepping forward.

But Sera’s hand clamped around my wrist.

I turned my head. She stared up at me, pleading.

“Lysander,” she said softly. “Don’t go to her. Please.”

I froze.

I stood atop a mountain in a dead wasteland—two plateaus before me. One held Seraphina, fierce and blazing like a sunrise in winter. The other held Rosalina, tears on her cheeks, my past entwined with her brother’s dying wish. I couldn’t stay suspended between them. I had to choose.

Rosalina or Seraphina.

My promise, or my heart?

I gritted my teeth. “I…I…” I swallowed, jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone. “Give me one moment, Sera.”

Pain flickered across her face. My wrist slipped free from her grasp. I turned and tore out of the ballroom, ignoring Meredith’s sharp reprimand. My heart pounded louder than my footsteps as I sprinted down the corridor, past guards and startled servants. I followed Rosalina’s scent—storm rain and wild violets.

A flash of movement caught my eye beyond the windows—a slender form sprinting through the gardens.

I barreled through the door and into the gardens. Rosalina’s sobs echoed through the twilight. She was headed for the stone wall—trying to escape.

“Rosalina!”

I lunged, catching her around the waist and hauling her back against my chest. She shrieked and flailed, kicking out with wild fury.

“Let me go, you bastard!” she sobbed.

“Stop!” I twisted her to face me, pinning her arms.

“You liar!” she screamed. “You stars-damned cheater!”

“I’m not cheating on you!” I snapped, though even as the words left my mouth, they rang hollow.

She scoffed, face blotchy with rage and heartbreak. “Not in the technical sense, maybe—but emotionally?” She laughed bitterly, tears streaking her cheeks. “You held her like she was yours. You danced with her like you already loved her.” Her voice cracked. “You do love her.”

Her sobs broke loose, violent and raw. She crumpled in my arms.

“Rosalina, it was just a dance,” I said, my voice desperate. “The Shahar was commanded by my father. I didn’t have a choice.”

A dark voice whispered in my head: Liar. You wanted it. Every touch. Every moment.

I shoved the thought away.

“You swore,” she hissed. “You swore to Kieran you’d call off this engagement. But I haven’t seen you try even once. You’re just going along with it—like a good little prince. You’ll dance the Shahar in front of the court, and that will be it. You’ll be hers. And I’ll just be…forgotten.”

Her words hit like lashes. My brother-in-arms’ final request echoed in my mind.

Take care of my sister.

“Rosalina,” I whispered, taking her chin gently and lifting her gaze. “Look at me.”

She resisted. Then slowly, her silver eyes met mine.

“I’ve tried,” I said, the truth heavy on my tongue. “Gods, I’ve tried to call it off. But my father—Queen Ravenna—none of them will hear of it. If I push too hard, if I call it off now… it could mean war. Between the Nightshade Court and the Crimson Moon Pack. Between our people.”

A breeze picked up behind me, brushing the back of my neck. I didn’t need to turn.

The scent reached me first—honeysuckle and vanilla.

Seraphina.

She had followed me.

I squeezed Rosalina’s hand. “I’m not abandoning you. But I have to find a way to end this in a way that doesn’t burn everything to ash. You know I can’t—”

Her soft gasp cut me off.

I turned.

Seraphina stood a few feet behind me, wind stirring her long auburn hair. Her face was unreadable. Her eyes, wild gold rimmed with heartbreak. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

In one night, I’d cracked the fragile hearts of two women.

And I wasn’t sure which one of them I’d just destroyed.