All Things Wild and Beautiful

41. Swirling Sparks

Fenrys' face hurt from the hours of constant smiling. He knew Aelin and Rowan weren't faring any better. Already, he'd seen Rowan rubbing his cheeks ruefully, before Aelin swatted his hand and told him to act like a King Consort instead of a bored child. The look Rowan gave her promised retribution for that remark. Fenrys pretended not to notice the aroused shift in their scents.

He scanned the ballroom, wondering how many guests were left to greet. There couldn't be too many. Everyone they had sent invitations to appeared to be there. Ansel of Briarcliff was dancing with Rolfe. Falkan Ennar was speaking with Lysandra, who was his niece, and Aedion, Darrow, and Evangeline stood beside her.

Sartaq and Nesryn were dancing. As were Chaol and Yrene. Elide sat on a chair near the wall, holding their young daughter while Lorcan watched over her shoulder. He almost seemed afraid of the baby, and kept pretending to be watching something else whenever Elide glanced at him.

The King and Queen of Eyllwe had been the last guests to arrive. They were now dancing, and their two sons were attempting to find partners. Ren Allsbrook stood in one corner, eyeing Manon Blackbeak, or Manon Crochan as she was more commonly called these days. The Witch Queen was once again dancing with Dorian Havilliard.

Fenrys wondered how long it would be before the two retired for the evening to one room, which Aelin had so firmly insisted they share. He had to smother a laugh, thinking about how many beds would go unslept in tonight, and how many more would be shared. Briefly, his thoughts drifted to his own bed, and the female he shared it with.

He'd seen Nascha dance by a few times already, twice with Dorian, once with Vaughan, and a third time with Ren. He wasn't sure who her partner was now, but he was growing increasingly agitated at the thought that it wasn't him. Fenrys struggled to catch sight of her crimson hair amidst the throng of guests, to no avail.

Aelin elbowed him. "I think we've stood here looking regal long enough. The only guests that haven't arrived are Rayan and Eliora, and they never responded to their invitation." Fenrys nodded, already walking off. "But keep an eye out for them anyway! We don't want them to know she's here."

"I remember," Fenrys replied. He circled around the dancing couples, searching for Nascha. He ignored several women who gave him pointed looks. Fenrys passed by Lorcan and Elide. "Have either of you seen Nascha?" He asked.

"I think she's dancing with Vaughan," Elide replied. Lorcan nodded wordlessly. Fenrys continued past them, now searching for Nascha or Vaughan.

He soon caught sight of them, dancing near Lysandra and her uncle. Fenrys wove through the crowd and paused. Nascha was devastating. The gown he and Lysandra had chosen for her accentuated every curve in her body and proudly flaunted her tanned skin and toned legs. A few stray wisps of hair curled against her neck, while the rest of it was styled on the back of her head with glittery black ribbon woven into it, and a diamond comb holding the ribbon in place.

The necklace Fenrys had given her rested just below her collarbone, which was on full display thanks to the swooping neckline of the gown. If he let his gaze fall, he knew he'd see the curve of her breasts and a strip of skin below them before the neckline ended. Fenrys drew in a deep breath and approached.

"I think it's my turn," he murmured behind Vaughan. At once, Vaughan let go and stepped aside. Fenrys slid a hand to the small of Nascha's back, which was bare beneath his palm.

"It's rude to interrupt a dance," Nascha admonished.

Fenrys held her close, breathing in her scent: nutmeg and frost. "I couldn't wait any longer. Watching you dance with everyone else has been torture."