Chapter 38, Dominant beast

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I lead Amber Marigold to the dance floor. The air around us seems static. Electric and frozen. The glittering chandeliers above are holding their breath. The flickering synthetic candles light up even more. The old, wooden floor quakes underneath the heavy steps we take with our titles. And the very people around us visibly take a few steps back.

The leaders of Sterling and North. That's who we are. And in the matching outfits, we are a force to be reckoned with. Even the very notes of the music that's being played doesn't dare to miss a beat.

When I have Marigold on the dance floor, my stare fixed on the wild oceans in her eyes, I take a moment to lower and pick up the tail of her dress. The material is so delicate in my hand, I'm afraid it'll evaporate through my fingers. I come back up and hook a discreet loop onto Marigold's finger - allowing the dress to not be in the way of her feet. Marigold quirks her eyebrow.

You could've told me that earlier, her eyes say.

You could've danced with me earlier, I wink right back.

Fair enough, she shrugs.

When the music's pace starts, I have my feet moving. Like melted silver, Marigold's body goes where I lead. It's like our legs are tied with invisible poles - moving at the same time and with such power and flow, the other dancers stay a good distance away from us.

"Why are you being nice?" I ask before pushing at her side to let her spin out - the dress flaring out like a blooming flower with it's tail held by her finger. When I yank her back, she comes spinning with equal speed - her dress twirling out in smaller and smaller circles before her back is pressed against my chest.

Marigold cranes her neck - a little out of breath and says: "I'm following my own advice."

I bring my arms up - untangling Marigold in one smooth motion before she's back in my arms and we glide across the room. With every step we take, someone else takes a step back.

"Which is?" I ask before gripping her hips and swinging her low - her back arched and hair fanning out before I bring her back up. A whisper away from me, she has her hands on my chest.

I smirk before viciously grabbing her hands and putting it back in place - all the while not missing a single step in the dance. I still remember how the previous Northern leader's wife taught me and her two children how to dance.

"Not to judge others," Marigold replies.

"So you're on a clean slate with me, is that it? I'm expecting an answer from you. Though, it's hard to say yes to a proposal when you're already engaged," I state.

I don't ever take my eyes off of Marigold. Not even with more and more people stopping their dance to stare at us. Sterling and North. Silver and silver. Power.

"You were the one that told me not to marry if not for love. Remember? While you were Mysterious Fucker, you said that I shouldn't marry 'Xavier Jilten'. Don't be surprised when I'm listening to your own advice," Marigold says.

She has me there.

"I only told you that so you wouldn't get suspicious. I eventually advised you to lie, which by the way wouldn't have changed a thing. You would've still had to go through with the marriage," I explain. Waiting on Marigold's reply, I grasp her close to my side and lean back while she leans with me in a perfect straight line.

"Careful, Xav, you're on a clean slate. Don't start it off bad," Marigold says smugly while we're in a leaning hold.

I bring her back with an undeniable grin and have us back in the dance.

"Did you just call me Xav?" I ask.

Marigold literally turns into the same shade as a tomato. 

Deciding to spare the poor girl, I say: "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than for you to be happy. To live your life as you deserve to live it. Seven hells, I want you to want me. I wish I had time to meet you as I've dreamed of meeting you, but that's not life. We're in gangs. We're not normal people. And unfortunately, I truly need our gangs to merge so we can stand a chance against the South. And it'll have to be through a proposal, because I want us to be equals. I really do," I admit.

Marigold frowns while we move across the floor. "You're not lying. You promise the South is really the enemy," she whispers.

I snort. "Marigold, I've told you before, I'm not fond of lying. Honesty is very important to me," I point out.

There's something in Marigold's expression that I can't quite catch. Hearing a big beat coming up soon, I push at Amber's side, spin her out - dress flaring like silver turning into fire, and bring her in so fast, she needs a moment to realize I've grabbed her leg - the one exposed by the slit in her dress, and have it wrapped around my side.

"Can you stop dancing like some dominant beast. We should be in sync naturally, not by you grabbing and pulling at me like some doll," Marigold rants.

A primal instinct in me gets triggered and in answer, I drop her mere inches from the floor as the beat I've waited for comes up. Marigold's leg is still wrapped around me and her eyes have gone wide at the sudden move.

"I'll have you as my equal at all times except for two occasions. One, being when we dance. Here, you're mine," I whisper in a husky voice into her - my eyes paralyzing hers.

The beat lifts again and I swing her back up before leading us into the last part of the song. At this point the few people still dancing are no where near us.

"And the other time?" Marigold asks without breathing.

I cock my head to the side and a wicked grin spreads across my features. "In the bedroom of course," I answer.

Marigold takes the breath she's been holding.

We dance on and I feel her body move more willingly to my demands. Her back arching at the slightest touch and eyes closing whenever I press her too close. At one point, Marigold lets out an unexpected chuckle.

"What's that for?" I smile.

"I was just thinking back to the first day we met," she says with humor carved from her eyes to her small dimples.

"And what's so funny about that?" I ask.

Marigold heaves in a laugh. "I remember how shit-scared I was. Here you showed up, the North-side leader with your expensive cuff-links and killer smile, telling me how you were going to take over," she laughs some more, "And when I kicked you, you yelled out 'good Lord'! You, the feared Northern leader just yelling out 'good Lord' is the funniest thing ever," Marigold chuckles - a few tears streaming out of her eyes.

"You kicked me in the groin," I defend.

"Good Lord!" Marigold bursts out.

I try not to get my masculinity offended, and strike back with: "Says the one who's made up boyfriend last year was Alan Chimpunk."

Now it's Marigold's turn to have a blank face while I laugh.

"It was on the spot... The first movie I thought of was Alan and the Chipmunks," Marigold mumbles in defense. This lets me laugh out even louder and I'm certain the people around us must think we're crazy.

"What's so funny? It's just a movie," Marigold grumbles.

I heave in a gut wrenching laugh and breathe out: "It's Alvin and the Chipmunks," more laughing, "Not Alan!"

Marigold frowns and horror spreads across her expression. "No... It's... It's Alan... I'm certain," she says, but realization dawns upon her as the words leave her mouth.

My stomach starts to hurt from laughter.

"Oh God... My whole life I thought it was Alan... I feel like an idiot," Marigold whispers.

The song comes to it's end, but I'm too full of laughter to end off with something fancy and instead just let her go and bow while she curtsies. A new song starts and we walk off. Marigold miserable. Me, utterly amused.

 "Tis not tat unny," Marigold grumbles.

"Excuse me?" I ask amused.

"I said it's not that funny. You can stop now," Marigold grumbles louder.

Without asking, I lead Marigold to the buffet tables. Marigold loves food. Marigold while being miserable might actually be the reason for world hunger. But alas, it's the only thing that can lift her mood.Marigold goes straight to the cheese and stuffs her mouth like the feared gang leader she is. I watch in amazement. When she turns back to me, she lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly swallows what's in her mouth. 

"Please, don't make a cheesy pun," Marigold begs.

"You beat me too it," I point out.

She rolls her eyes. Whatever.

I take a sip from my champagne and Marigold does the same right before a couple walks over to us. A bit surprised, Marigold and I somehow automatically go to stand next to each other as the couple stops in front of us.

"At last, we finally get to meet the couple everyone is raving about," the bald man with a crow's mask says.

Before we can correct him, his date, a girl who looks about Marigold's age and has a dove's mask says: "That's a big rock on your finger. Congratulations on your engagement. You look lovely together."

"No, he's not my fiance," Marigold makes clear.

"Yet," I caught - earning a jab in the side.

"Oh... But you two danced so well together mere seconds ago..." the man says.

"It was just dancing," Marigold smiles.

"Humph," the man scoffs, "I just assumed Sterling would merge with the North. It seemed fitting. Who are you engaged to, girl?"

"I'm not a girl. I'm Rebma D'logiram," Marigold corrects.

The man looks rightfully alarmed at the look both Marigold and I hand him. "My apologies, Miss D'logiram," he says.

"And I'm engaged to Blake Bowmen. Former leader of the West gang," Marigold answers.

"You're marrying someone from your own gang? Why?"

"It's a statement. It shows we're strong from within."

"Ha!" the man laughs, "Is that what the boy told you."

I almost let out my own satisfied little laugh, but think better of it. No need to put salt on a wound. Frustrated, Marigold turns away and I send the couple a shrug before walking after her. With my long strides, it's not too hard to catch up. I let a waiter take my glass before I grab her arm.

"Now hold on," I say and have her facing me.

"Why is nobody taking me seriously? This engagement wasn't some little girl falling in love. It was a choice for my gang," Marigold rants.

"You still have to prove yourself to these people. And yeah, some might think the engagement wasn't smart," I explain.

"It sounded full-proof at the time..." Marigold mumbles and looks down at her heels.

I don't reply and instead watch as the wheels turn in her head. I've acquired the skill to see past Marigold's masks. This silver network of thorns is no exception. I watch how she sorts through all the thoughts drowning her. I read her expressions like a book. Sorting through them myself. That one's confusion. There's doubt. Correction, self doubt. Some betrayal shows up. Disbelief follows. I spot a bit of horror. And ah, there it is: regret.

Marigold looks up at me with all those emotions swimming in the storm in her eyes. "I made a mistake, didn't I?" she asks.

I hand her a sincere, small smile. Hope, flickering in the shadows of my soul. For once, tonight might actually work out.

Ha.

Helloooo goldies!!! 

I'm so damn excited!!!! I think the next chapter might be a bit shorter. For y'know, variations. I'm thinking of a chapter from Blake and after that Amber... Or maybe Myra and then Amber? All I know, is that Amber has to be the chapter after the next chapter.

Soooo tell me who is:

All for Xamber.

Against Xamber.

If you are for Xamber, state your reason over here:

If you are against, state your reason over here:

Thanks! Remember to follow this account for notifications and please as always, to vote if you enjoyed it. 

~ Holly Shmit




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