And there was the crowd of well-wishers around John, patting him on the back or extending a hand in a congratulatory shake. He looked like the lead singer of a rock band being thwarted with raving fans.
I was grateful for the size of the crowd around him so he wouldn’t be able to immediately see the deadness that shadowed my face, and would now remain there forever. I doubted if another smile would find its way to my lips, and knew if one was possible in this nightmare filled world of mine, it would only be from the fond memories I would have of the only man I’d ever loved.
Right on cue, I heard the first staccato note of the orchestra as they prepared to break into their ballad, where the five newly announced couples would dance the first dance of their forever. I doubted my strength to hold myself upright, let alone my ability to dance a waltz in front of several hundred Immortals . . . in front of the man I knew whose insides would twist and contort into permanent scars if he watched.
I made one final wish and prayer to anyone that might be up above listening, that Patrick would remove him from the room before he had to watch me in John’s arms gliding over the dance floor.
A hand reached out from behind me, and a familiar voice murmured, “May I have this dance?”
I didn’t need to look at the now empty seat two down and across from me, nor see the vehement disapproval on Patrick’s face, nor the shock on Stella’s face, to know that the man requesting my presence on the dance floor was not the one I’d just been promised an eternity to.
My hands stopped trembling and I reached one up and fastened it securely over his, answering his question silently. My knees no longer weak, my head no longer clouded by despair, I stood up gracefully and he led me out onto the dance floor before any of the other four couples.
We were making our statement, and its deafening silence saturated the room.
At first, the faces of those observing the spectacle looked confused—as if they were questioning the name they’d heard read alongside mine—but when the low rumble of whispers began, those confused faces turned to ones of disbelief or disapproval.
William walked me to the center of the floor. His eyes held mine, and there was a look of bittersweet triumph on his face. The hand that held mine felt warmer and more electric than my memory had done it justice, and I knew this was because I’d recently surrendered all hopes of ever touching him again and also knowing this would all be over soon. I cherished every fraction of a second of it.
“I lied, you know,” he whispered. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes from my confusion.
“You shine brighter than a star,” he said, with more love in his voice than the room would hold—spilling into the foyer and out the French doors.
He turned and wrapped one arm around me to place his hand over my lower back and drew me close to him—closer than a formal waltz called for. I raised one of my arms and placed it on the side of his and my hand gripped tightly to the top of his shoulder. My heart was racing, and I could hear and feel his doing the same. His other hand grabbed mine and pulled it up, and then he led me across the floor.
The grace and fluidity with which he moved would have held my attention any other day, with the exception of the finality of tonight and wanting to be surrounded and aware of nothing but being in his arms for the last time. A few other couples had joined us on the floor, eyeing us carefully and dancing their own, less animate, waltzes—wary to keep their distance from the enamored duo that remained the silent eye of the storm.
The crowd around John must have diminished enough to the point John could now view what was happening on the dance floor. The tension in the room increased exponentially when I noticed John begin shoving his way through the thinned circle of well wishers.
I gripped my hands tighter on him, willing my mind to cement every line, muscle and plane of his face. We had only seconds remaining before John would be on us, prying me away from the perfect future I should have known better than to covet.
“Go, William . . . please,” I pleaded, breaking our silence.
He must have noticed John’s approach too, for he broke our stare to lean his head next to mine, lowering his voice to near silence, “I will not let him have you, Bryn. I will die before I let him claim you.” The shudder that ran through my body was stilled from his hold on me. “I love you. I will get you out of here—”
John had just stepped onto the dance floor when Patrick raced up behind William and placed a hand over his shoulder. “We need to get you out of here, Brother. Now.” He said with finality, taking a quick glance back at the fast approaching figure of John.
“Get him out of here, Patrick.” My words and eyes begged my beloved’s little brother, before they flashed back to the tortured eyes before me. “Please, go,” I whispered to him. My pleas had no affect on the determination blazing on his face.
“You won’t be able to save her if you die here tonight,” Patrick coaxed more urgently, when William’s hold only strengthened around me.
Reason flashed into his eyes. It looked like it took every bit of willpower in him to release his hold on me and take one step back. Patrick had to practically pull him backwards as he guided him towards the doors.
“We’ll be back for you, Bryn . . . soon,” Patrick promised, as William backed up with him. His eyes dazzled one more flash of affection before his face hardened into a businesslike expression, and he turned and quickened his step to match Patrick’s as they exited the room together.
Relief overcame me when I saw them disappear into the foyer, confident that Patrick would get his brother out and keep him safely away from the overwhelming numbers of John’s ever so ready and willing Enforcers.
A final footstep sounded strongly behind me, followed by a deliberate clearing of a throat.
I raised my chin and set my shoulders back, determined to meet him with the new confidence that boiled within me. A confidence that came from knowing I was able to give up what I loved and wanted more than anything else in the entire world to keep him safe. I was now no longer a match for John’s arrogant, entitled sort of confidence. I turned to meet his carefully masked face, but his eyes held the ferocity that he would not allow his face to form around.
He raised his eyebrows. “Having a good time?” His words were harsh sounding, teaming with sarcasm.
The quick lie of a cover up had already formulated in my head as I watched William walk away from me safe, so my answer flowed quickly, “William and Patrick had some sort of mission to attend to tonight and he wanted to wish me a quick congratulations before he left. He asked that I extend his deepest sentiments to you as well.”
His sentiments that the woman you’ve been Betrothed to will forever love him and despise you, I couldn’t help thinking.
John’s eyebrows lifted, and he carefully surveyed my face for several seconds—trying to find any detection of a lie or deceit in it. Finding nothing that would give me away, his lips pursed together and his eyes filled with an increasingly familiar gleam that would under normal circumstances—and had I eaten any of tonight’s culinary masterpieces—made me throw-up.
“I was rather jealous seeing you in William’s arms while I was inundated by morons pouring insincere congratulations my way. Please allow me to make up for the time we’ve already lost of our first dance together.” He held up one hand and curved one arm around the empty space before him, obviously wanting me to submit and step into his calculating web of an embrace.
I hesitated for a second or two, long enough for the doubt to return to his face . . . but I recovered. A slow, seductive smile (or what I imagined one would look like) pulled over my red-colored lips and I took two steps forward and weaved into his embrace.
Against every impulse and raw reaction in my body, I didn’t grimace when his hand clasped mine, or shudder when his hand reached far down the small of my back, gripping into the fleshy mantle of my backside. My eyes didn’t falter from his lustful stare, and the invisible strings that held the corners of my mouth up in a smile that had his heart and body reacting unbecomingly, did not snap.
“The jealousy was all mine when I saw you surrounded by everyone else but me,” I purred, trying to emulate the feline-esque qualities that Stella had perfected. “But now, here I am, just where I should be,” I murmured. And there’s the final thudding sound of the nail being driven in your coffin, John.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BITTER SWEETDREAMS
The orchestra had played its last nocturne, the last bottles of champagne and pinot noir had been emptied, and my net of feigned excitement for my Betrothal had been cast, by the time the grandfather clock in the foyer chimed twelve times.
As if some secret code, the remaining guests filtered through the foyer and out the front doors. Grabbing their silk shawls and overcoats as they exited, they showered their thanks and endless congratulations to John and me as we escorted them to their luxury European vehicles awaiting them in the driveway.
I’d played my part to the tee, and should have been exhausted beyond repair after murmuring tireless responses to John and dancing the endless waltzes he implored his soon-to-be wife to accompany him in; but neither my determination nor my strength felt depleted. If the only worthy charge I could carry out in my Immortal life was to build a convincing wall of deception for John that would protect William, I would do it without complaint.
Draco and Yasmin were the last of the guests to leave. Draco bid us goodnight and expectations for a forthcoming Unity ceremony in the coming month. Yasmin troubled herself with an enticing smile for John and a rueful one for me. I mirrored hers with my own, and knew I’d hit the mark and overtaken her own surly farewell when she huffed, turned her back to me, and exited without the accompaniment of Draco’s arm.
Two can play at this game, Miss Cheekbones. We’ve got forever to hate each other if that’s the way you prefer it.
I was nearly glowing from the new found courage and confidence I’d summoned from deep within, but I knew the moment I entered the solitude of my bedroom and walked onto the balcony that was full of memories, I would break down. The façade of bravery would crumble with no one present.
Looking up the long stairway leading to my bedroom, I felt the cement of hesitancy pouring over my feet. I tried to pry one foot from the marble floor to take a step forward and meet the inevitable sadness that awaited me in my room, but I couldn’t. It was stuck in place.
“You can stay with me tonight if you like,” John whispered beside my ear, misinterpreting my hesitancy. His teeth bit down softly on the end of my earlobe before he leaned back.
My face was overcome with fear before I could draw the curtain of resolve back over it.
“We could go away for awhile. Tell the Council we were United overseas,” he said, again misreading the meaning behind my expression. He drew me unimaginably close to him, bowing my body against his. “They would all understand our haste.” His lips positioned themselves over the side of my neck just above my shoulder, where the symbol of the promise made to me earlier this evening rested. A promise that could now, never be fulfilled.