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My mouth dropped open, but she’d already abandoned my closet and started rummaging through her pile. Finally, she held one up with a triumphant grin. “This is the one.”
I studied the petite dress. Ciara was nearly half a foot shorter than me. “That won’t fit me.”
“Please. There’s magic for that.”
I gaped at the breezy comment. “Magic? If there’s magic, why did I spend an entire night being stuck with pins during a three-hour dress fitting?”
Ciara laughed. “Wow. My brother really is a dick.”
The comforting prickle of irritation bristled through me. That was better. That was how I was supposed to feel when I thought about Lachlan Gage. Not only had he wasted my time, but he had also sat back and enjoyed watching me getting jabbed over and over again like some type of supernatural sociopath. A sociopath who apparently wanted me to play pretty, pretty princess so I would not attract too much attention this evening.
“Think of it this way. We’re not dressing for action”—a dazzling smile oozed across her face—“we’re dressing to get a reaction.”
Maybe Ciara was right. Maybe what I needed was to get a response—from everyone in the room. Because if Lachlan thought he had a claim to me, it was time to show him he was wrong.
Chapter Nineteen
Ciara had remained cryptic on the specifics of the Midnight Feast, but based on the dress she’d chosen for me and the fundamental understanding of what an orgy entailed, I decided it might be best to be surprised rather than chicken out.
As promised, she had glamoured the dress to instantly transform it into something that fit my body. Although “fit” might be an overstatement. Not that its raciness was from a lack of magic so much as a lack of fabric. The gown consisted entirely of sheer layers of black tulle that swished across the floor with each step I took despite my five-inch stilettos. But other than length, there was nothing remotely modest about it. Its sheerness allowed nothing to be worn underneath it, and the only discretion it offered was by way of embroidered leaves that overlapped my breasts and my hips, a few fronds draping past my knees in various shades of black and bottle green. I couldn’t decide which message it sent: that I was available or that I belonged to the wild, verdant heart of the Nether Court itself.
Every head in the room turned as we entered, and many of them bowed immediately when they saw the princess at my side. The guest of honor had opted for a rose-colored gown that gathered at the neck and flowed in a long, sensuous column down her body. Its color offset her pale, luminous skin, making the darkness of her hair and the subtle pink of her lips all that more stunning. But more than a few eyes tarried on me, including, I realized with a shiver, Oberon’s.
He was standing near the entrance, deep in conversation with Sirius, the young Astral Court prince. A smile spread across Oberon’s face as our eyes met, his entire being seeming to glow from within from the light court magic smoldering in his veins. Sirius, on the other hand, shot me a goofy grin.
Ciara noticed them looking at us and elbowed me in the ribs. Grabbing my hand, she dragged me over. “Oberon, I heard you met Cate, but I believe Sirius was being shy.”
Sirius didn’t look nearly as shy now. He straightened, showcasing his broad shoulders and impressive build.
“It’s a pleasure.” His voice was as deep and smooth as his flawless brown skin. He reached for my hand, and I allowed him to take it with some hesitation, blushing a little as he brought it to his lips. Another gentleman. Apparently, I had just needed to look to the light court for one. Who knew?
“It’s a pity one of you is already spoken for.” Oberon smiled at Ciara. “Best wishes, by the way.”
“They haven’t called the banns yet. I’m still single tonight,” Ciara teased, but I heard the undercurrent of trepidation as she spoke.
Oberon turned his full attention to me, amber eyes gleaming. “In that case, perhaps we won’t have to fight over Cate.”
Sirius and Ciara shared a look as she stepped a little closer to me. “No one is fighting tonight.”
That sounded like wishful thinking, especially with the number of armed guards stationed around the perimeter of the ballroom. I was about to point that out and then defuse the sexual charge to the conversation with a new topic when a familiar weight settled against the small of my back.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” his dark voice rumbled.
I hadn’t seen Lachlan approach, but my entire body was aware of him instantly. I dared to look up as he stepped to my side. His gaze whispered across my body, drinking in the see-through fabric of my gown and the provocative placement of its adornments inch by inch. I was sure I imagined the slide of his throat, the way his eyes shadowed, the shift as he angled himself between me and the others. He leaned closer, lowering his voice, although I had no idea why. The other fae could clearly hear him. “I don’t remember picking out this dress.”
“Yes, thank the gods.” Ciara rolled her eyes and jabbed her brother with a perfectly manicured fingernail. “Were you picking out dresses for the Midnight Feast or a debutante ball? I already promised poor Cate I would take her shopping tomorrow so she has something decent to wear.”
Her brother ignored her entirely, bending farther so that his lips grazed the shell of my ear. My breath hitched as he murmured, “Mouthwatering,” then pressed a kiss to my neck.
I gawked at him, but he only smirked, as if that masculine arrogance that got under my skin so easily was second nature and not something he could help. But now it wormed its way deeper, lower, not stopping until I found myself shifting to squeeze my thighs together against the sensation.
Oberon studied us. “She would make an exquisite offering. Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
The request was enough to free me of my daze. I looked to Ciara, but she only shook her head slightly.
“Unfortunately, I already have everything I want,” Lachlan said. His hand slipped from my back then, and I fought a surge of disappointment—until his fingers laced with mine and tugged. “There are more people I’d like you to meet.”
First a kiss and now he was holding my hand? He’s marking his territory, I reminded myself, but I was so rattled by the gesture that it took me a minute to remember why I was here. “I should stay with Ciara.”