Chapter 85: Something Special

ELIA

As it turned out, the feast wasn't over. She'd thought their speeches—her choices—were the end of the night. But it was only the end of the formal traditions. Once she'd arranged to meet with Candace, Aymora, and Gahrye the following morning, and they'd taken their seats at the podium table, she turned back to Reth, still feeling shaky at the response from the people. But he'd ignored the tension and taken her hand. "May I have this dance?" he said, his eyebrows up.

Elia blinked. "Dance?"

There was music playing, but she hadn't noticed any dancing until Reth nodded towards the crowd and she saw that the people had moved the tables from the center of the market back to the edges, and now they all sat and stood around while couples and individuals began to leap and sway in the dirt at the center.

Elia loved to dance, but she wasn't very good at it. And she'd never seen dancing quite like this.

There was a group of six women at one end of the empty space, stomping and swaying in a set combination of steps that they took in unison. They were beautiful and graceful, and they leapt like gazelles at one point, so high that Elia's breath caught.

There was a couple in the center—wolves, she thought—who danced in a way more akin to what she thought was Salsa dancing in her world—a sensual and powerful play between two bodies, a chord of tension between them that promised satisfaction at its end. Her skin tingled watching them.

Then there were groups and couples scattered about, some simply swaying in a way that reminded her of high school dances back home. Others engaged in some kind of give and take that seemed to depict a story—perhaps a battle—between the people facing each other.

Elia was enthralled, and confused. "I… I don't know how to do that, Reth," she said, her disappointment clear in her tone.

"Let me show you. Please," he said, and his voice was husky in a way that made her turn to look at him.

That loop around her heart snagged tight and pulled her towards him as she nodded and took his hand. He lead her down the stairs and into the center of the dance area. At first she just watched everyone around her, her mouth open in shock and delight. But then Reth offered a hand and bowed, and she took it, and bowed back to him.

Pulling her in so that their hips were almost pressed together, his left hand at her lower back, his right clasping her left, he leaned into her ear. "Just relax and let me lead."

She gave him a look. "I've just been made Queen, apparently offended half the people with my choices, and I've never dance in public before… but sure, Reth. I'll just relax."

He lifted one eyebrow with a lopsided grin. "Someone's feeling her power already."

She shook her head. "No, but I am feeling something," she said in a low voice, and let the fingers of her right hand trail down his neck and along his shoulder. He growled and nipped at her ear, whispering, "Careful, or you'll force me to carry you out of here and back to the cave."

She tipped her head back, her eyes sparkling. "Promise?"

With a snarl of frustrated joy, Reth swung her into the rhythm of the dance, and Elia found herself giddy because the hardest part was done, and now she was touching him, and she was in a pretty dress.

After the first few circuits of the dance floor, she was able to just let go. Despite his massive size, Reth was a graceful and precise dancer, his strength making every shift and step seem powerful, despite the care and elegance he gave it. At first, mocking her own lack of ability, she'd sagged melodramatically back over his arm.

"Do with me as you will, Sire. I am but a peasant to your throne!" she mock-swooned.

But Reth dropped his face to her neck and snarled against it, "Don't bare your neck to me in public! You'll bring me to my knees in front of them!" Yet, he tasted her throat, as if he shouldn't but couldn't resist.

Elia was confused and lifted her head to stare at him. His eyes were warm, but dark, and his chest rising and falling quickly. She didn't think it was because of the dancing.

Which was when she realized, they were dancing. Actually dancing. He'd moved her backwards and forwards, extended her away from his body, and brought her back close. She lacked his grace and finesse, but found the rhythm he was following and just let herself be led.

And lead, he did, spinning and swaying with her, wrapping her waist in his arm, then turning her so her skirt swirled around her knees. He caught her against his own chest, then spun her back out—and he caught her again.

Around and around, until all she saw was his eyes, always on her, and his shoulders, always there to steady her.

She had no idea how long they danced, but it was as if with each step, the cord between them pulled tighter and her heart swelled more.

Reth's eyes locked on hers and the world tunneled around them. Elia knew they were still in the market, still watched by hundreds of people, but as the people of the WildWood began to unwind and enjoy themselves, so did Reth and Elia.

Then the music slowed.

Reth stopped spinning her, rolling her in and out from his body. Stopped turning them and crossing the floor.

He dropped his chin so his cheek brushed hers, and brought her hand up, curling his around it and pressing it to his chest. And they swayed.

Elia's heart and body were at odds—her body acutely aware of the warmth of him, the strength of him, the beauty of him. Her heart wanted to race, and her body wanted to move. Her skin wanted to ripple against his.

But her heart… she was touched by the gentleness in him, the tenderness with which he brushed her temple with his lips, or the way he pulled her close to his side when there was an unidentified noise off the dancefloor. He watched to make sure she was safe, before turning back to her and bringing her close to sway again.

Every move he made seemed to center on her and she was awed by it—by the heart of him. This man. This King!

What was it in him that held her like she was something precious.

"You smell confused," he murmured in her ear. He took the hand at her back and stroked it through her hair. "What's wrong?"

This scent thing was very inconvenient! Elia almost told him not to worry about it, but in the end, she knew he'd only watch her more closely, probably misreading the problem. So she made a little face as she tipped her head back to meet his eyes.

"I'm just not sure why you treat me like I'm… special." It was the plain truth. She tried not to back away from it.

His brows pressed in. "Because you are special, Elia. So special. The most special."

*****

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