Birthright

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Kray could hear Alex follow him out of the room and down the long pale-lit corridor. Her footsteps were off though, heavier on one leg than the other, as though she was favoring it. He had no doubt that she hadn't been faking the injury. She might be a convincing liar, but she hadn't been faking her pain, or her pride when he offered her help.

The only reason he'd said she was faking it was to get under her skin, and it'd worked, if her shock and outrage were anything to go by. Good. It was a good place to start. Obviously this plan of trying to ignore her wasn't working too well. Every time he looked at her, thought about her, he felt like a volcanic of emotions were seething inside him, spewing out no matter how much he tried to force them now.

It was time for a new plan. Time to turn the tables on her.

So when he reached the spiral staircase that would take him to the ballroom, he grabbed the railing with one hand and leaped over it, landing two floors straight below. He straightened his tie and assessed his condition. Other than a jolt in his legs that shot through to his chest, no harm done. But any pain would be worth losing Alex.

He passed people, ignoring the way some of them avoided touching him like he was diseased, and entered the ballroom. At the sight of the hundreds of guests dancing and mingling, he felt that uncertainty returning. He couldn't risk hesitating—Alex would catch him. But he didn't exactly know where to go.

A flash of white-blond hair and a red tie in the crowd caught his eye. Violet, dressed in the school uniform, her skirt offering a few tantalizing inches of golden skin where her knee-high white socks reached as she swayed to the more upbeat music. She smiled and toasted him with her wineglass, and Kray took it as an invitation to approach.

"Dance with me," she said, shouting over the noise around them.

He couldn't believe how bold and at ease she was being, surrounded on all sides by people who hated her kind. An island unto herself. "Why are you wearing the school uniform?"

"Why are you?" she shot back.

"They didn't give me options."

She shrugged her shoulders and danced around him, before finally saying, "I could be dressed in the prettiest of dresses and they'd still look at me like I'm a savage who uses the woods for a bathroom and eats raw meat—or whatever it is savages are known for. So when I was picking out what to wear, I said screw it. I'm not dressing up for these monkeys."

Kray smiled. He liked the way her mind worked. His smile disappeared when the music slowed down and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She was taller than Alex, which put them almost at eye level with each other. She smelled like flowers, too, but something different. More like roses than lavender. "You're not planning on stabbing me in the back tonight, are you?"

"What kind of question is that?" Violet asked with genuine puzzlement in her eyes.

"Never mind." They swayed slightly to the music, and he found himself wondering how Violet would've looked in a pretty dress. Definitely better than any of the girls here. Prettier than even Leah and Alex. She already looked like some ethereal creature, with her straight downy hair that glowed beneath the chandeliers and her icy-blue eyes that reminded him of glaciers. She also had the tall, willowy frame to pull off any dress.

He felt this weird sense of pride, as if her good looks were a plus for Team Sansers. As for him, he knew enough about the second glances he got from girls and even older women that he was more than passingly attractive. But unlike Violet, who radiated confidence and sexuality, he didn't know how to use his looks to his advantage.

"Why are you here?" he asked her.

"Instructor Masso. He told the concordance board that, for the sake of fairness, the Sansers should have the opportunity to show off their best cadet, too. Plus he figured you could use reinforcement. Poor Kray, a little lamb in the midst of wolves."