The Duke stepped back, his chest swelling with the triumph of his own announcement. He didn't just hand me off; he surrendered me to the wolves he had raised.
"Julian. Caelum," the Duke's voice was a low command. "Dance with your sister. Show the court that the Valerius blood runs thick and united."
When he says it like that, it makes it seem like his blood flows through my veins. But all eyes can see. These two will never look at me the way brothers would.
The orchestra, sensing the predatory shift in the room, transitioned from the stately opening to a Viennese Waltz—fast, dizzying, and demanding. It was a dance designed for heart palpitations.
Julian didn't wait. He stepped into the clearing before Caelum could even blink, his large hand snapping onto my waist with a grip that was anything but brotherly. He pulled me into the first rotation with a violent, athletic grace, his golden hair catching the candlelight like a halo over a demon.
