I can delay no longer and must resign myself to my fate. Taking his hand, I ignore the strange magic that emanates from him into my khet as he leads me to the open part of the dining hall. The . . . dance floor.
In the center, Lord Adom turns to face me. Then his other hand wraps around my waist.
I go rigid under his touch.
“I will not hurt you,” he says, a dark glint in his eyes belying his words.
Chewing my lip, I stare at my limp hand. “I said I do not trust you.”
“Maybe so, but I still cannot lie.” His hand leaves my waist long enough to find my fingers and guide them to his shoulder.
“And you said dancing with a fae is dangerous.”
Lord Adom’s hand returns to my lower back, heating me through my bodice, corset, and shift alike. Then he uses his touch to pull me closer to myself. “I did.”
Trying not to stumble against him, I focus on centering myself. A hard feat when I only feel like orbiting him.
“The trick to dancing with a fae and leaving with your soul intact is this.” He begins to sway to music I cannot hear, and I clumsily attempt to keep up, resulting in my over-keeping up.
“Don’t get lost in the spell of the music, the dance, or your partner.”
“Then I shouldn’t dance with him to begin with. I should be . . . singing. Am I not your minstrel?”
“And you shall be, more often than not. But you still need to be prepared. Look into my eyes.”
I lift my chin to obey, and my gaze connects with his like the compass needle finds the north. The longer I stare, the more drawn in I feel, as though if I could just lean in a little closer, the stormy sea of his eyes could sweep me away to a world more beautiful than this one . . .
Thunder booms, and I start before realizing I was hearing only a clearing of a throat.
Blinking rapidly, my vision clears, and I find myself looking at a frown.
“You fell under the enchantment faster than even I was anticipating.” Adom clenches his jaw and looks at me like I am Pandora’s box itself, nothing but trouble.