“Feel the music, feel your partner,” I said. “I am the only thing that matters.”
He looked at me, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, and I shivered. “I’ve known that for a long time.”
The urge to stop dancing, shove him to the rooftop, and get naked was strong. Only the knowledge that even without broken glass, the roof would be filthy, stopped me. I kicked to one side, then the other, before raising my right leg and bracing it against his shoulder, essentially doing a split while still on my feet.
Startled, Dominic took a step backward, dragging me with him. I grinned.
“See? We’re one creature with two bodies, and it’s your job to make sure the connection doesn’t break. Hold me up. Support me. Feel the tension in my muscles, and use it to follow.”
We danced silently for a few minutes, Dominic trying to match me. The song changed, but I’d chosen Jesca because her beats were usually regular without being overwhelming. There was nothing on the album I couldn’t tango to, and Dominic could at least hear the rhythm.
His cheeks were red when I spun out and back, pressing myself against his chest. “I feel oddly inappropriate doing this,” he said.
“I’m your wife.”
“Valerie Pryor isn’t married,” he said. “The way you hold yourself, the way you move . . . I know I’m dancing with you. I feel like I’m also dancing with her.”
“Just hold on to that feeling,” I said, running my foot up the length of his leg. “When you watch the show, remember that it’s not your wife dancing like this with other men. It’s Valerie.”
“As long as you’ll remember that when the show ends, you’re coming home to me.” He pulled me abruptly closer and kissed me.
The song changed. I barely noticed.
When we finally pulled back from each other, we didn’t resume our dance. Instead, we stood there, cheeks red, and looked at each other. Dominic spoke first.
“Tell me something vital that requires there to be blood in my brain, or we risk the mice turning another sexual encounter into religious rite,” he said, in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine.
I took a breath. “Um. Okay. You remember I told you Brenna Kelly was a dragon? Well, she wants us to go back to Manhattan with her.” Dominic raised an eyebrow. I quickly outlined Brenna’s proposal: the purchase-slash-adoption, the money, the idea of raising a husband with love.
“Ah,” he said, when I finished. “The Covenant does something similar.”
“Still not comfortable with that.” I didn’t like the fact that the Covenant ran what was essentially a monster-hunter breeding program. Knowing that my family had belonged to it until just a few generations ago didn’t help.
Dominic took my hand and led me to the edge of the roof. He sat down. I sat beside him. Looking at me gravely, he said, “Do you remember when I asked if we were dating?”
“You mean when we were both naked, and you were like, ‘hey, girl I’ve been sleeping with for months, are we a thing?’” I asked. “Yeah, I remember.”
“I told you most of the knights of my generation would take lovers for the sake of the flesh, and then return home to suitable marriages,” said Dominic. “I didn’t want to do that, because I only wanted you.”
“Yes, this rings a lot of ‘wow that was an uncomfortable, horrible day’ bells,” I said. “What’s your point?”
“My point is if you hadn’t come crashing into my snare and my life, and if I’d remained the good Covenant soldier I was raised to be, I would have returned home to that marriage by now. I would have been lucky to meet the girl before I took her to the altar. Everything in our lives is curated. That includes our bloodlines. It’s necessary, when the same families have been fighting together for so many years.” Dominic looked at me solemnly. “I prefer how things happened with us—I’m delighted to have had the chance to fall in love—but arranged marriages haven’t destroyed the Covenant. For the dragons, they may be the only way.”
I blinked. “Okay, wow. This is the second conversation I didn’t expect to have tonight. You think I should do it?”
“I think you’ve already decided to do it,” he said. “I’m simply trying to make you feel better about the idea.”
“I love you.”
Dominic smiled. “I’m aware.”
Between dancing and talking, it had been over an hour, and the mice hadn’t appeared. That was a little odd: I assumed they had pilfered a lot of goodies from the motel kitchen and wanted to divvy them up before they went back to interacting with humans. The mice are loyal and dedicated to documenting as much of the family’s history as they can, but they have their own lives, and those lives are not lived according to human rules.