As she slid through the outstretched arms and gyrating hips, she saw him: a faery stood on the periphery of the crowd, just close enough that she could tell that he was someone altogether new. Solitaries passed through Huntsdale regularly. Having several regents in one place was an anomaly, and faeries were ever intrigued by anomalies.

The faery on the edge of the crowd was oblivious to the appraising looks he was getting, but he would’ve stood out even if they were at a faery club like the Rath and Ruins. His hair was so pale that it looked white, and Ani suspected that the shimmers of color weren’t just the reflection of the club lights but a little bit of his true appearance. He was eye candy. And he’s staring at me.

She stopped moving and asked, “Are you coming over or just looking?”

No one around her would hear her ask, but the eye candy in question was a faery. He heard her and answered, “I really don’t think that’s wise.”

Ani laughed. “Who cares?”

Like many faeries she knew, he was sculpture-perfect, but instead of being wrought of shadows like those in her court, this faery had a tangled feel to him. Shadow and radiance. He didn’t look much older than her, until she saw the arrogance in his posture. Then, he reminded her of Irial, of Bananach, of Keenan, of the faeries who walked through courts and crowds confident that they could slaughter everyone in the room. Like chaos in a glass cage.

“Come dance.” She turned her back then and let herself be swept into the crowd. Hands and emotions were all around her; it was like drowning in euphoria and need.

And he’s watching.

She glanced toward the shadows where he stood. He hadn’t moved. So she held his gaze while she danced, not for the mortals in the room, not for the feelings that every brush of skin brought to the surface.

“Come dance with me,” she whispered.

He stared at her, not even glancing at anyone else, even when they spoke to him or stood in his path. No one else in the room was there for him. Just me.

Twenty minutes later, the band took a break, and the floor cleared enough that there was more room to dance.

He was still in the same spot.

She considered going over to him, but she wasn’t a pet to be summoned. She was a Hound. He could come to her.

“Hey!” Tish said.

Glenn had an arm protectively around Tish.

“You coming out with us?” Tish couldn’t stand still. She might be more mortal than faery, but she had the Hound tendency to be always in motion.

Behind her, Glenn was immobile.

The club music came on to fill the silence while the band was on break.

Ani took her sister’s hands, and they danced near Glenn as they always had. It was different now. Before, Glenn had always looked at them like they were about to consume everyone’s good sense. Now, he watched Tish like she was his own personal heaven.

“I’m fine here,” Ani said as she swung Tish around so that Glenn had her back in his arms. “Go on.”

“Do you need my glasses?” Tish reached into the little bag she had slung over her shoulder. Emergency sunglasses had become a necessity since Ani started changing. The moment of green eyes earlier had been too close for Tish.

“Honest, I’m good.” Ani kissed her sister on the tip of the nose. “Go”—she caught Glenn’s gaze then—“and you take care of her, or else.”

Glenn snorted.

Tish stepped between them. She pursed her lips as she looked back at Ani. “You be good. Glenn’s our friend.”

“If she’s not treated like she’s made of china, if she gets even the teeniest bit hurt”—Ani reached out and caught Tish’s hand without looking—“it would be bad. That’s all I’m saying. You don’t want to meet my relatives.”

“I’ve been watching her back—and yours—for years.” Glenn’s demeanor changed to something softer. “I’d sooner step in front of a fist or knife or whatever than let Tish get hurt. You gotta know that by now.”

“Cool.” Ani hugged him. “Get off my dance floor then.”

Tish hesitated, so Ani grabbed the hand of a guy who was passing. “Dance?”

He nodded, and Ani led him into the center of the remaining crowd. She didn’t need to look to know that he was still watching—or that he’d heard every word she’d said. The admonition had been for him as much as for Glenn.

Fair warning. Fair chance to flee.

If not for the gnawing ache inside of her, she might wonder why he was staring at her all night. If not for the fact that she had the former king of the Dark Court as her personal knight in shining armor, she might worry a little more. Tonight she wasn’t sure she could worry. She needed to be lost in the music.

As the band took the stage again, her dance partner moved away, but she didn’t follow.

“Come dance,” she said again. “I know you’re watching. Come out and play.”

A few moments later, he came to stand—motionless—on the dance floor.

“About time.” She spun so she was chest-to-chest with him and slid her hands up his chest slowly enough that she could feel the muscles under his shirt.

“I thought you were going to make me chase after you.” She let her hands slip over his shoulders and around the back of his neck.

He stayed immobile as she did so. “You’re a foolish one, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” She tilted her head so she could stare up at him. All around, bodies crashed into them. The music was deafening, and if he’d been anything other than faery, she’d have had to yell over the noise.