Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Oh!” Ma’s eyes light up. “Which one is Haley?”
I point to the three human queens who have commandeered a set of chaises in the corner. “She’s the brown-haired one in the green gown. The Hunter King’s mate.” No one knows the Hunter King’s real name. I asked Haley what we should call him, and she said he prefers to just go by Hunter.
I like the Hunter King. He’s very quiet—I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than three words in the entire time I’ve known him—but he looks at Haley like she’s his world. And his silence is a welcome contrast to Aurus’s non-stop arrogant posturing. I don’t know how Kim puts up with the Golden King but then, she’s pretty loud, too. She can certainly hold her own with him. They seem like a perfect match—in fact, that could be said for all three royal couples. The more I learn about it, the more I get the impression this Alpha-Omega mating thing has a clear advantage over relationships back home.
“Rose!” Kim shouts across the ballroom. She’s on a sturdy chaise with her feet up and a plate of sweet cakes balanced on her big, pregnant belly.
“Excuse me,” I murmur to Ma and Leelah, and head to my fellow queens with Rogue hot on my heels. The little whisp outdid itself on my hair and gown, and has followed me around all night to hold up both my bejeweled hairstyle and my train, so both float effortlessly in the air.
Emma and Haley smile at me from their seats on the chaise.
I’ve almost reached Kim’s side when the plate of sweet cakes goes flying.
“Holy shit, did you see that?” Kim cries. “The baby just kicked the plate right off me!”
We assure her we saw it.
“Damn, this kid is going to be a handful,” she says cheerfully. “I already told Aurus he’s on diaper duty.”
“Good,” I say, eyeing her belly. “Because there’s a real chance that baby is going to be bigger than you within a few weeks.”
Kim snickers and so does Emma, but Haley palms her own stomach, looking alarmed.
“I’m kidding,” I tell her.
“Oh, of course,” she says, dropping her hand. But she’s been touching her belly all night long. Supposedly she’s coming to the appointment tomorrow for a basic checkup, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a positive pregnancy test.
“You look beautiful,” Emma says, her blue eyes wide as she takes in my shimmering red-purple gown.
“Thanks. So do you.”
“How do you get your hair to float like that?” Kim asks.
“Magic,” I murmur. Rogue ruffles the curls at the base of my neck.
A light trilling sound, much like the song of the singing lizards, signals the start of the music. It’s time for the first dance. The flute-like sound swells into a majestic march, played by the royal musicians at the end of the ballroom.
A prickle runs up my spine, followed by a swelling sense of contentment. I don’t have to turn my head to know that Bestian is behind me.
He places a large hand on my back, and I savor his delicious scent. “Pardon me, Your Majesties,” he says. “As the hosts, I believe the first dance is ours.”
I grin at my friends and let Bestian guide me away to the center of the room. He twirls me out across the dancefloor and we acknowledge our guests with a bow and curtsey in a choreographed movement that would make the pomp-and-circumstance lovers proud. I rise and face him, and the heat in his eyes takes my breath away.
He’s not wearing a mask. I know he has one that matches my gown. I even suggested we make this ball a masquerade. Masks are en vogue now, ever since Bestian first ventured out of the palace wearing his. All the high-fashion people in Medea City wear them to mimic the king.
When he demurred against a masquerade, I didn’t realize he meant he’d also leave his mask off. He doesn't wear one around me, but it makes him more comfortable around other people.
I take his outstretched hand and squeeze it. “You look gorgeous,” I say.
“That’s what I was going to say.”
We share a smile.
All around us, our guests are watching, but it’s easy to forget them and pretend it’s just the two of us here.
He pulls me into his arms and we begin to dance. He leads me in the steps—an elegant blend of traditional Medii dance steps and a formal Earth-style waltz.
He tugs me closer, and the wind surges under my feet.
Below us, the crowd gasps. We’re floating on an invisible platform, right up to the sky.
And then we’re alone, because we’ve risen right up through the magical ceiling and out across the garden. I laugh.
“What amuses you?” he asks.
“You amuse me. We invited a bunch of guests over, organized a fancy-ass ball, and now we’re dancing all alone outside.”