The Winter Phoenix (WAYHAUGHT)

Hot Haught

Nicole edged her way towards the other dancers, taking her time to listen to the music so she could catch the beat. Not that she had spent much time out clubbing, or dancing for that matter during her exile. The occasional night at the local pub with Xavier, bingo with Kevin, she wasn't exactly the poster child for an adrenalin-fuelled lifestyle. Conscious of Waverly staring at her, she began wiggling her hips, arms performing a strange imitation of Travolta's hitchhiking move she hoped made her look less awkward than she felt.

As her body relaxed, as her movements began to flow, her mind let go for the first time in days, weeks even. Only now could she appreciate how on edge she'd been since finding out she wasn't who she thought she was, how ready she'd been to run, how so not ready she'd been to fight.

Her eyes closed, the music taking her beyond all immediate worries, a new confidence building, as though she could do anything, be anyone she chose to be. And, what she chose to be, what she most wanted to be in that moment was a ruler. To know what it might feel like to command armies comprising of hundreds, thousands maybe, and to have them fight on her behalf. Most of all, she wanted to know what it would be like to have others revere her as the heir of Halsingdor.

A sudden rush of excitement took her by surprise. I'm powerful! I rule a kingdom, a whole kingdom, and I rock. I actually rock. Her eyes opened wide, locking on emerald pools, beckoning with one finger for Waverly to join her. As she approached the music changed, a little raunchier, a little more to Nicole's liking. Her hands went to Waverly's hips, guiding their movements as eyes remained locked on each other. No one else mattered, bodies finding a rhythm which had Nicole thirsting for more, so much more.

Without warning Waverly was upon her, nipping at her lower lip, hands cupping her face in desperate need to remain close. And, Nicole wanted her, right there in front of everyone, without a care.

In their lusty embrace, neither noticed those on the dancefloor had created a space to enjoy the erotic spectacle now going on before their eyes. Had Giovanni not pulled them apart they may well have stormed past a point of no return. Nicole's primal growl didn't deter Giovanni, who continued to drag them towards the smaller room.

"Let go of me," she ordered as they entered, instantly coming to her senses. "Wh...what just happened?"

"You were muzzed," he replied, with a smile of the informed, and a casual wave of his hand. "Kate should have chaperoned you."

"Muzzed?"

"Mind buzzed. Harmless, although occasionally embarrassing."

"I nearly...Waverly, are you okay?"

Waverly had the widest smile on her face. "I like dancing with you. Can we try again?"

"Oh baby, that's not dancing. That was-"

"I am all tingly."

Nicole turned to Giovanni. "Thank you."

He bowed, slipping something into her pocket. "As much as I would have enjoyed the spectacle too, decorum must prevail. Those are for later. And, the pleasure is all mine."

Taking the seat next to Kate her mind remained on the dancefloor, a moment when she could have sworn she was her old self again. Halsingdor's rightful heir. Not that any memories permitted her knowing for certain. It simply felt as though she'd put on a coat, a long-forgotten item of clothing buried at the back of a wardrobe, only to recognise it as having once been worn.

It gave her the first glimpse of how much she had changed, and how difficult it must have been for Waverly to accept the person she had become. Waverly too must have sensed it, the way she reacted, the way she kissed, the sensuality, the lack of hesitancy.