creepy hollow 02 - faerie prince by rachel morgan

Author:rachel morgan [morgan, rachel]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-05-23T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

We head back out to the ballroom and find the table with our names on it. Honey and her Seer boyfriend are at the same table, and Honey jumps up to throw her arms around my neck while telling me she always knew I’d be the top graduate. I go rigid before awkwardly patting her back; I’m pretty sure we’ve never hugged before.

After Honey lets go of me, Dale and a girl not from the Guild join our table. Dale gapes at me before saying to Ryn, “Dude, I thought you were joking.”

Ryn wraps his fingers loosely, but somehow protectively, around my wrist. Honey looks between the two of us, apparently as confused as Dale. “Obviously not,” Ryn says. “I told you I’d be here with Violet, and I meant it.”

“But . . .” Dale’s eyes slide to me, then back to Ryn. “You don’t even like her. You’re the one who’s always telling everyone else all the things that are wrong with her.”

“Well, I guess I need to tell you something else now,” Ryn says before I can remind Doofus Dale that I’m standing right here. “I . . . was wrong. I shouldn’t have said any of those things.”

Everyone at the table stares at Ryn, including me. Did Oryn Larkenwood just admit to being wrong about something? His hand still clasps my wrist, and his thumb moves slightly against my skin. It’s almost imperceptible, barely a movement at all, and I’m sure he doesn’t even know he did it, but it sends a shiver racing up my arm.

I look down at our joined hands just as Councilor Starkweather appears next to us and says, “I won’t be making any announcement about the first dance. When the music changes, that’s your signal.” And with that she sweeps away, the simple black dress she had on earlier replaced now by a flowing red gown. Everyone else in the ballroom seems to be taking their seats, as though they know something is about to happen. Not wanting to be the last one left standing, I pull my arm out of Ryn’s grasp and reach for the back of my chair.

Ryn stops me. “Music’s changing,” he says. “You don’t get to sit down until you’ve performed your dancing duty.”

Oh crap oh crap oh crap. Okay, I can do this. Move forward. Don’t trip. Just relax and allow the spell of the music to guide your feet through the dance. It’s as easy as that.

“Interesting,” Ryn murmurs as we head slowly to our doom.

The way he says it, I know he wants me to ask. “What?”

“You’re actually nervous.”

“Am not,” I respond immediately.

“Your pulse is jumping in your neck. Your hands are sweaty.”

I move to wipe my hands against my skirt. “Don’t.” Ryn catches one of my hands. “You don’t want everyone to know you’re nervous, do you?” He loops my arm through his and leads me to the center of the ballroom. He holds his head high, and I can just about feel the confidence oozing from him.

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