Zane
She stuttered.
Not smoothly. Not convincingly.
Her mouth opened, closed, opened again like she was searching for words that wouldn’t come.
“I—we’re not—Kaius is just—”
“Just what?” I kept my voice level. My anger controlled. But I felt the tension coiling tighter in my chest with every fumbled syllable.
Before she could answer, footsteps approached from behind.
I knew who it was before I turned.
“Uncle.”
Kaius stood there, his hands clasped loosely in front of him with an expression polite but determined. The kind of look he wore when he thought he was being reasonable.
“I was hoping,” he said, his tone perfectly respectful, “that I might request a dance with the Luna.”
The audacity of it made my jaw clench.
“A dance,” I repeated flatly.
“Yes.” He smiled. Like this was a
