Lysera Alpha Samuel guided me onto the floor with a possessive hand at my waist, his palm warm and heavy, as if he were reminding me, constantly, that I belonged where he put me. The orchestra swelled, slow and indulgent, and the dancers fell into pairs around us. Silk brushed silk. Laughter drifted. Glass chimed.I tried to keep my movements small, maintaining as much distance between our bodies as the dance would allow. Alpha Samuel was having none of it.His hand slid lower than courtesy allowed, fingers pressing into the curve of my hip, then drifting back up as if by accident. Each time I stiffened, he chuckled softly, drawing me closer, his breath grazing my ear.“Relax,” he murmured. “You’re wound too tight.”I swallowed and stared over his shoulder, counting the lights, the banners, anything that wasn’t the way his thumb traced slow, suggestive circles through the fabric of my gown. My skin crawled. I shifted uncontrollably while also being careful not to make a scene.He tig
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