Burning Violet_Urban Elemental Series Book 1

by Kate Kelley

  It would do.

  I wore a thong, which so wasn’t my thing, but the silk of the dress left nothing to the imagination when it sashayed and caught the thick slopes of my butt. It also had a mid-thigh slit up the left leg. Good thing I’d shaved my legs.

  To my surprise, the sleeves were off-the-shoulder, showcasing my favorite feature--my collarbone.

  The sheer lace sleeves themselves fell perfectly to my wrists, and didn’t itch at all while the bust and waist perfectly molded to my shape. I was beginning to think the maid had purposely hid it in the back of the closet--and considering the gown looked freshly cleaned and pressed, I wouldn’t even doubt that this was the dress I was originally supposed to wear tonight. The maid probably picked an ugly one out and swapped it.

  I smiled and hoped I would see her tonight, just to see the look on her face when she saw me. I wasn’t usually one to toot my own horn, but I looked hot. Even I could admit that.

  Except, my hair was straggly and wet.

  There were no outlets, and no hair dryers.

  Shit.

  Maybe I could just put it in a top knot and hope for the best.

  I grumbled as I grabbed my makeup bag and began lightly brushing tinted moisturizer on my face. I’d been blessed by the skin gods with nice skin--everything else was either too big or too small. My nose was rather thin, I thought. My eyes, too large. My lips were alright, I supposed.

  And I liked my auburn hair well enough. If it wasn’t so heavy. Then it would have dried in time.

  I applied eyeliner and mascara, and finished with dark red lips.

  “Oh, duh!” I said out loud to my reflection.

  I had fire and air powers--I could dry my hair with magic.

  It took a minute to remember how to do it, but eventually I was staring as the flame in my palm. I focused on what I had learned with Baal--turning it into that sphere thing I’d seen Wolfram and Cole do. I’d done it once before...wala! There it is.

  I brought it to my hair and let it blaze, then pulled air in and streamed it through the fire sphere.

  Using a round brush as I went, my hair was dry and voluminous two minutes later, falling in slight waves to the middle of my back.

  I doused the magic.

  Success.

  A low whistle startled me and I turned to the door to see Baal filling the doorway, his eyes openly admiring me from head to toe.

  I blushed, because those crimson eyes were always undressing me, and making me feel foolish. I laughed it off and turned in a circle, giving him a full view.

  He shook his head and approached me as he smiled. So, at least him and Brand didn’t hate me.

  “You didn’t shave your beard?”

  Baal looked truly affronted as he clutched his thick beard as if I’d threatened its life. “This is a lady magnet. Panty dropper, if you will. No way in hell I’m ever shaving this thing.”

  I tugged on it. “Doesn’t do it for me, lumberjack.”

  His eyebrows hit his hairline and he spread his arms, his large biceps stretching against the material of his white dress shirt. “You ever see a lumberjack dressed this sharply?” A gray jacket draped across his arm and he tugged it on buttoning the first button and posing as if he was on the cover of GQ. Honestly, he’d make a good cover, if you liked the Jason Momoa type.

  I patted his chest affectionately. “Well, you do look good in the suit. I like that tie.” It was crimson, same as his eyes.

  He held out his arm for me to take and I obliged just to humor him. “Are you my date now?”

  He looked down at me and kissed the top of my head. “Of course you are. Who else would you go with?”

  I instantly thought of Wolfram, but smashed the thought with an imaginary dagger. “Quite right. I’m a lesserborn, mixed breed freak.”

  Baal gave me an admonishing glance. “A sexy lesserborn, mixed breed freak.”

  That pulled a guffaw out of me, and I ruffled his beard. “And you’re a cute lumberjack demon teddy bear.”

  He grumbled deeply in his chest. “Cute? I may shave this beard yet.”

  ◆◆◆

  The ballroom was enormous, with the loftiest ceilings I’d ever seen--complete with doves flitting from beam to arched beam. The walls glittered gold, and I was trying to figure out if it was real, but as soon as I got close enough, I was swept into another introduction with another random lady or lord, all of whom stared at me like I was a strange new species. Which, technically, I was.

  “Lady Raleigh, very nice to meet you,” I managed, my cheeks hurting from the smile plastered on my face.

  The old woman looked like a damn pug, and I wanted to tell her that Marie Antoinette called and wanted her hair back, but that would have been bad form, so I held my tongue.

  I wouldn’t have been so mean if she’d treated me with just a smidge of respect. Instead, she went on to talk about lesserborns and how they’re all asking for handouts from the top rungs of society, and how she hoped I wouldn’t fall into the same category. That I should be grateful to the Queen for allowing me to stay as long as I had.

  It got tiring, listening to it.

  Luckily, Baal had saved me, asking me to dance again for the third time of the night, even if it’d only been an hour. I was beginning to enjoy myself, even, the intense moments from earlier in the evening fading with alcohol and merriment.

  He led me to the dance floor and spun me around while the live band played a lively song of different string, wood, and percussion. It was not quite a waltz, but not quite a fast tempo. We settled into a comfortable pace, my hand in his and the other resting on his shoulder, with his hands at my waist.

  For the first time of the night, I spotted Wolfram on the other side of the room--just a glance of the back of his head, but I knew it was him. Adara clung onto his side, both of her hands clutching his arm possessively. The dancing couples shrouded them once more and they disappeared from view.

  “You’re beautiful, Rai.”

  Baal’s soft tone startled me and my eyes flew to his. I laughed nervously. “Thanks, guy, you’re not so bad yourself.”

  Baal smiled, then swallowed, his expression suddenly guarded. A tremor of nervousness floated through me at the out-of-character expression on his face.

  “I think we should...consider...getting to know each other a little bit more.”

  I searched his face, his broad cheekbones and square jaw. “So, you don’t hate me then? You don’t think that I’m betraying --”

  Baal held a finger to my lips, and shook his head solemnly. “Not a chance. You’re good.”

  I smiled, tears welling in my eyes when he cupped my cheek. I laid my hand on top of his.

  “Attention patrons of the Tungsten Clan!”

  We turned our heads to see the Queen standing before an ornate, long table on the far side of the room. She spread her arms and smiled softly. “Please welcome the man of the night, my eldest son, Prince August Tungsten Wolfram, heir of the Fire Kingdom, and his mate, Adara Garnet, daughter of the esteemable Duke Garnet of Clan Tungsten. Let’s give them a warm welcome as they join in first dance as mates.”

  My stomach soured as I watched them walk hand in hand from between two white pillars from the right side of the ballroom, entering the throng of enraptured Lords and Ladies. Adara wore a fiery blood orange gown, cutting a daring shape on her perfect figure and rising like clouds of steam at her feet. Her dark hair cascaded to her waist in a glossy sheet. I noticed I wasn’t the only one frowning at the pair--most women in the room shot Adara scathing looks. If looks could kill, Adara would be the one tied and roasted instead of the hog that now made the centerpiece of the banquet table.

  The pair clung to each other in the middle of the dancefloor as a waltz began, then they circled one another before intertwining again. Adara looked up at him like he was the answer to her prayers.

  If this was Wolfram’s cover, he was doing a piss poor job of it. This looked real. And maybe it was. Maybe by ‘cover,’
he hadn’t meant that it wasn’t real.

  A stone dropped in my gut, rendering me unable to move. I clasped Baal’s hand tighter and he brought me in close, breathing in my scent at my neck.

  He held me for a long time while I ignored the mated couple in the middle of the room. I must have been the only one not watching, but I didn’t care how it looked anymore. Let everyone know I was sick with jealousy--I couldn’t hide it anymore. I just didn’t want Wolfram to know.

  “You deserve more than that ugly bastard stringing you along.” Baal’s deep grumble soothed me, even if his words alarmed me. He knew.

  I looked up at him, willing the tears to stay where they came from in my tear ducts. I’d been entirely too weepy today.

  Baal kissed my nose warmly, and pulled back, his eyes flashing crimson through thick lashes. I smiled up at him and he moved his face slowly toward me, meeting my lips with his. It was nice, it was warm. Safe.

  I wrapped my hands around his wide shoulders and brought his head in close again, kissing him harder. He groaned against me and deepened the kiss, his beard tickling me. I licked across his mouth tentatively and he opened on another groan, his hand slipping lower on my back.

  Suddenly, he pulled back. His eyes were a startling fiery red. “You’re killing me, woman.”

  I grinned up at him, waggling my eyebrows and scratching the beard at his jaw affectionately. He captured my hand and brought my wrist to his lips, planting a hot kiss over my pulse.

  I can’t say it didn’t affect me at all--it did a little. It’s just that Wolfram’s face kept popping up, obscuring the moment. Damn him.

  I brought Baal closer again, kissing him hard and pressing myself against him. Baal kissed me back hungrily, breaking the kiss on a growl and a deep breath. “You want to leave early? Kick back and watch a movie?”

  I reared back. “You have a secret TV and electricity I don’t know about?”

  Baal winked, combing my hair back from my face. “I have an apartment in the city.”

  “Do all princes have apartments in the city?”

  He thought for a moment. “All except for Aiden.”

  At the mention of Aiden, my gut clenched. I changed the subject. “How old is Brand, in human years?”

  “He’s eighteen physically, I guess. Why, are you interested in him? Because I have to tell you, I am not one to share.”

  He began steering me toward the pillars we’d seen Wolfram and Adara emerge from, toward the exit. We stopped by the pillars and I braced my hand against the cool marble. Baal looked me over, heat in his gaze. “Let me go get my apartment keys and I’ll meet you back here.”

  I smiled, and leaned my back against the pillar. I still hadn’t decided on what I wanted to do. What were Baal’s intentions and did I want to involve myself? Did it matter? Maybe I just wanted to lose myself in something tonight, get my mind off of Cole and Aiden and Wildfire and Wolfram...“Okay, demon boy.”

  “Get a drink or two before meeting back here, it will loosen you up,” he said with a wink before striding through the throng of people toward the double glass doors.

  He was probably right about the drink, so I called over a butler carrying a tray of silver goblets and plucked one with honey-colored wine, sipping it gingerly.

  It was delicious, the warm, sweet notes flowing over my tongue. Soon I was on my second, swaying to the music as I leaned against the pillar that hid me from view.

  “You can’t trust Baal.”

  I jumped and spun at the familiar voice. Wolfram stood next to my pillar in the shadows. “I can trust him, just as he trusts me. What do you care, anyway?” I asked, downing the rest of my glass and hailing for another.

  Wolfram came forward, standing next to me in the cover of the pillar. He stared down at me and I avoided his copper glare. “He just wants to sleep with you.”

  I rolled my eyes and licked a drop of honey wine off the rim of my glass. “And your point is? Stop eavesdropping on all of my conversations.”

  His nostrils flared. “It wasn’t hard. Anyone with eyes could see you all over him, kissing him and rubbing against him like a cat in heat. Is that how you want your reputation to hold up around here?”

  I whipped toward him. “I won’t be here for long. I’m a lesserborn, remember? I don’t belong here in this royal clan, aiden wants to kill me, and Wildfire or the Air Kingdom probably will succeed in killing me. So what does my reputation even matter? I’m not a fucking princess like your soulmate fling cover--thing. Whatever she is to you.”

  He stepped forward, and the heat off of him gave me chills. I downed the rest of my glass and set it on a passing tray. I reached for another, and Wolfram grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I glared up at him. “Are you with Aiden then? Think I’ve been spying for Wildfire?”

  He let go of my arm but remained close enough to touch. “Are you trying to let him take advantage of you?”

  So he wasn’t going to answer my questions about that. Fine, I’d play his game. I spread my arms. “I didn’t dress this seductive to go home alone, August.” I used his name in an attempt to frazzle him, sounding it out with accentuated lips.

  His chest heaved and his face became stone as his eyes trailed over me hotly. He turned away, wiping a shaky hand over his mouth, then he grabbed me, and pulled me toward a side door that I assumed was a closet. Once inside the tiny room, he locked the door and backed me up against a wooden shelf, his face close to mine. The room was lit with a single lamp, locking us in deep shadow and soft, flickering flame. I could hear the sounds of the party faintly on the other side of the thick door, but my erratic heartbeats overrode the noise, pounding in my eardrums. My lips parted as I angled my face toward his. I felt his breath hot on my lips.

  “I will kill him if he touches you, do you understand?” His voice was low, gravel, and thrummed through me as if he’d touched me all over.

  I licked me lips slowly, hoping to taunt him. Was he talking about Aiden, or Baal? “I don’t belong to you,” I murmured.

  He hesitated only a moment before he pressed himself against me, and his mouth was on mine, hard, punishing. My stomach bottomed out and a fierce longing filled me. I met his kiss with abandon, tasting him, pushing my hands inside his jacket to feel his muscles ripple and tense.

  He broke the kiss harshly and let out a ragged breath. “Why are you torturing me?” His voice was strained and, like a magnet, his mouth was on my neck. His stubble roughed my skin while his hand cupped my breast, thumbing over my nipple. We both groaned.

  “God, I want you,” he murmured against the base of my throat. “Need to taste you.”

  He cupped the other breast, then tugged down on the fabric until it fell to my waist, replacing the dress’ bust with his hands. I shivered and leaned into his touch, desperate for more contact.

  He fell to his knees and his mouth replaced his hands, and I gasped as he laved his tongue over each nipple, then, clutching my hips, kissed a trail down my stomach to the sensitive area of my hip. He nipped me there and I lost all control as the exquisite ache inside of me grew to a deep throb. My only thought, my only need, was August.

  “You’re beautiful,” he breathed.

  I clutched his shoulders as his hands smoothed over my hips and down my thighs. One hand slipped inside the slit up my dress and his head followed, kissing the inside of my exposed thigh.

  I bit my lip, knowing we should stop but praying that he wouldn’t.

  He continued kissing up the inside of my thigh while his hand roughly grabbed my bare ass. When he trailed a finger underneath the string of my thong, I dug my fingers into his shoulders. And when he kissed the junction of my thigh and the lace of my thong, I sucked in a sharp breath and my hips involuntarily bucked toward his mouth. He was so close to where I needed him. “August,” I moaned throatily, a plea in my voice.

  That was all it took for his control to snap, and with a growl, he crumbled my thong in one hand, snapping it off of me in one tug.

  His
mouth was on me an instant later, and I screamed, muffling it with my hand. He slung my right leg over his shoulder and opened me wide, licking and teasing and kissing with unbelievable expertise until I was a sobbing, pleading puddle in his hands. The tension coiled more tightly inside of me with each stroke of his tongue and hands. His thumb slid too slowly along my folds, back and forth, while his mouth and tongue continued to tease my clit, and when he thrust two rough fingers into me, I came. Hard. The word “mate” reverberated through my mind from somewhere outside of myself.

  “My sweet Rai,” he murmured appreciatively against me as he lapped up my wetness and I buried my fingers in his thick hair, now undone from its tie.

  As I floated back to earth, I pulled him up and brought his face to mine, kissing his mouth roughly, then slowly, reverently, along his stubbled jaw, his throat. I ran my fingers through his hair and down his chest, then flicked his tie to the side and started unbuttoning his shirt. I needed his skin on mine. I needed him inside of me. I needed to give myself to him. Now.

  His hands covered mine, stopping me. I looked up into his eyes that shined bright copper in the dim room. “We can’t,” he growled, his jaw set.

  I shooed his hands away and continued to unbutton his shirt. “We’re adults, we can do whatever the hell we want.”

  He stepped back out of range and I stared at him, his hard expression replacing the frenzied need that he showed just seconds before.

  A gulf of emptiness opened up inside of me and suddenly I was too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

  Hastily, I pulled up my gown and smoothed down my hair, then turned to leave. He grabbed my arm and I wrenched away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

  I grabbed the doorknob and he pulled me back, hands firm on my upper arms.

  “I can’t be with you,” he growled.

  I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, unwilling to show weakness. “Because of your supposed, fake mate? Or because of the Cole thing--?”