Chapter 288 The Lovers’ Dance

Ella

The crimson hue that painted my cheeks felt hotter than the finest wine.

“Dance?” I echoed, a mix of incredulity and apprehension dripping from the word. Logan’s smirk only deepened, his gaze roving over me in a manner that was equally taunting and enticing.

“Wine just has a way of making me want to move,” he said, taking a step closer, his body. swaying lightly to the gentle rhythm of the song playing in the background. “Especially to a song like this. Don’t you feel it?”

Biting my lip, I fidgeted on the spot and took a step back. “I… I don’t really know how to dance,” I admitted, though it felt more like a weak excuse to get out of having to get close to him. He raised a brow in surprise.

“You? Ella Morgan, heir to the Morgan legacy, doesn’t know how to dance? Weren’t there galas, balls, and all sorts of fancy parties where dancing was practically a requirement?”

Rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly, I nodded. “They did make me take lessons. Loads of them. But,” I paused, seeking the right words, “I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. Always running around in the mud, climbing trees. Those dancing lessons? I sat there, arms crossed, as sullen as a raincloud. Refused to learn a step.”

A chuckle escaped Logan’s lips, and his eyes sparkled with amusement. “So, the rebellious little heiress. You continue to surprise me, Ella. How about now? Fancy a quick lesson?”

that was still stung by our earlier disagreements-wanted to refuse, the ambiance, the wine, and perhaps Logan’s magnetic

“But don’t laugh if I step on your

part of the learning process,” he quipped, extending a hand. Accepting it, I found myself pulled into his embrace.

my own feet, but Logan’s hold was secure. With a gentle firmness, he guided me, his laughter light and teasing but not

how fluidly he moved. Logan was a natural dancer,

him, admiration evident in my eyes. Our gazes locked, and I saw something shift in his-a tenderness, perhaps. Something far different and

rhythm and each other’s eyes, the world outside seemed to fade. The gentle strumming of the guitar, the soulful lyrics-it all created an atmosphere of intimacy, pulling us even

to synchronize, my initial clumsiness melting away with

said, smirking down at

not,” I murmured. “Maybe I was a bit crass for refusing to

never had. the right partner.” My

still air, reality

as if it was about to leap out of my chest. We teetered on the brink of a kiss. The music was still, but the tension between Logan and

almost unbearable. But just as the world seemed to fade, my instincts kicked in, propelling me away from him. I was out of breath, my chest heaving, my

his fingers finding mine. With a gentle tug, he pulled me into the embrace I had just fled from. Our

whispered, his voice low, coaxing. His blue eyes, darkened with desire, locked onto mine. “I like you. I really like you. Maybe it’s this whole ‘fated mates’ thing. messing with our heads, but right now, I couldn’t care less about reasons. I want to kiss

like an intrusion-a trespass into the sanctuary of my emotions. With a

wolf called my bluff. “Liar,” she chided, her voice dripping with a mix of

of conflict. Tossing my hair over my shoulder in a show

deadly, “I’ll slice you open with these.” As I spoke, my claws, sharp and

a visceral shift within me, a callback to my more primal instincts. My canines elongated into fangs, and my ears, normally rounded, sharpened to fine points – a throwback to the fiery little girl I

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