Grinning, Ophelia linked an arm through Halo’s, clutched his biceps, and leaned her head against his shoulder. This was the kind of event her...mother had thrown but never invited her to attend. Never important enough.
Her grin faded, but she quickly rallied. Halo considered her a VIP, and that was what mattered.
“I’m ready for my introduction to society,” she told him.
“Be silent,” Halo commanded the masses—and they obeyed. Conversations ceased, everyone peering at him with expectation.
She fought a laugh.
With pride stamped into every line of his being, he announced, “I present my gravita, Ophelia Falconcrest.”
She executed her best curtsy without releasing his arm.
“All hail the Sweetheart,” everyone called in unison, toasting her with their drinks.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.
“That’s not her name,” Vivi called before downing two shots. She stood on the bar and winked at Ophelia, all I’ve got you, girl. No worries. “It’s Mrs. Immortal.”
A new greeting rang out. “All hail Mrs. Immortal, the Sweetheart!”
“We can definitely leave now,” she grumbled.
Halo’s eyes glittered with wicked delight.
Ian flashed over, surprising Ophelia with a nod of deference that fused a steel rod to her spine. “A pleasure to meet you, Ophelia.”
“Well, maybe we can stay a bit longer,” she told her male. With that one nod, Ian told her how much he respected her position as Halo’s chosen mate. He also acknowledged her role as a soldier fighting—and dying—to keep everyone safe. Like Halo, he recognized her incredible worth. Because she had some. And oh, wow, what an amazing pick up. “It’s a pleasure to remeet you, too, Ian.”
If only Nissa could see her now.
A pang of sadness ripped through Ophelia, but it wasn’t painful. Not anymore. The sharpest edges had dulled. But, um, why was Ian staring at her as if she’d sprouted another head?
Oh, crap. Had she?
Halo noticed the unwavering attention too. “You may look away from her, Ian. In fact, I suggest you do so. Now.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth as she fought another grin. As more and more of her Astra’s emotions bubbled to the surface, he displayed more and more of his reactions.
Ian seemed to fight off a grin as well. Dark eyes lively, he asked, “Why haven’t you covered your female in stardust?”
Halo floundered for a response, discomfort and fury warring for control of his features, and Ophelia snickered.
“He’s only teasing you, sport.” She slapped playfully at his chest, stunned to find the stardust scarcity bothered her less and less. Halo was a stone-cold immortal able to create worlds. He knew his mind—and his heart. If he believed Ophelia was his forever, who was she to argue?
“Teasing,” he echoed, as if the concept were foreign to him.
He would learn. Their new motto? No stardust, no problem. Maybe the powder would appear one day, maybe it wouldn’t. Why base her happiness—or her misery—on a force outside her control?
He must have responded telepathically to his buddy. Something along the lines of This is no joke—my female, back off. Ian’s grin broke free as he held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.
Halo’s claim of possession never failed to thrill her. “Stick a pin in it, you two. Play nice. This adored female sees a dozen shots of vodka in need of thieving.” Ophelia slid her hands under his shirt to flatten her palms on his washboard abs. Skin to skin, her favorite. “While I’m gone, you aren’t allowed to worry, pout, or brood. You do, and I’ll cancel the afterparty in my panties. But don’t let that stop you from undressing me with your gaze...”
She winked at a gaping Halo. Pleased with herself, her male, and life in general, she sauntered off, exaggerating the roll of her hips.
* * *
“Who are you?” Ian demanded.
Though the warlord stood at Halo’s side, he barely heard the words, his attention glued to the temptress who starred in his most fevered dreams. Did she feel his eyes upon her as she walked away?
The way she moved...a sensual feast. Halo stifled a groan.
Roux appeared beside Ian and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you ask him?” he inquired of the other male.
“About the stardust or his new personality?” Ian waved a hand in dismissal. “Never mind. Yes. I asked him. I’m still awaiting a response.”
Had Ophelia just shivered? Should he go to her? Warm her?
The warlords moved in front of Halo, blocking his view. The urge to knock their heads together and toss their bodies aside barraged him, but he breathed deep. Shouldn’t harm my friends.
In their minds, he’d been an emotionless husk only yesterday. Today, he seethed with desire for a specific female.
He maneuvered the two to different angles. There. “I’m...me,” he said, watching as Ophelia joined her friends at the bar. “Mostly. I’m the same male. Determined to defeat Erebus, no matter the cost.” The enemy could not be allowed to win. Not this time.