by Rebecca Main
Confusion remains painted across Ruby’s face. Her brows draw together as her lips form a perfect O. “Right,” she murmurs slowly, brown eyes flicking back and forth between Sebastian and Vrana conspicuously.
“That settles it, then,” Sebastian says with a relieved sigh, casting me a meaningful look. He's dressed to impress in a classic Valentino suit and will attend the Nuit de Culte preparty with his sister.
“Irina will stay out of sight for the night of the ball, while we work on the remaining families. Ruby will continue to work on the Mubarks. Nova on the Krovopuskovs—try not to shed too much blood. And Jax on his other projects. Tomorrow night, everyone will be on their best behavior for the masquerade ball, and there will be absolutely no fighting in the Pits for everyone,” Vrana says.
“Whatever,” Nova grumbles.
“Not ‘whatever,’” Vrana corrects. “Your best behavior. All eyes will be on our family tomorrow, with the recent private show Sebastian and Irina put on for the elite households. Do not let their words affect you. Have patience. The Delacroixs have extended an invitation to me to dine with them at the Nuit de Culte.”
“How scandalous,” Ruby says with glee. A stone drops to the pit of my stomach.
“What exactly is the Nuit de Culte?” Nova asks before I have the chance. "Is it just some giant masquerade ball?"
“The Royal Households all host a party at least once a year similar to an exclusive bacchanalia—a wild gathering full of excessive indulgence in bodies and blood. The Delacroix always host theirs at the end of August. It’s all anyone has been talking about the past two nights. Well, that and our favorite couple ‘Sebrina,’” Ruby says.
“Sebrina?”
The note of Sebastian’s exaggeration lessens the tight knot in my stomach. But only barely. I chance a glance at Vrana and catch his piercing gaze once more. My pulse gives an automatic flutter at its intensity, and I am quick to avert my gaze. The knot tightens again. A wave of hot anger flushing through my system as thoughts of Vrana engaging in… in…. I swallow thickly past the rising crush of emotion.
“You don’t like it, Bash?” Ruby says with a pout. “I thought it clever.”
“Aah, and it is,” Jax says. His hazel eyes hold a mischievous glint. “But we all know Bash’s disdain for pop culture and its influences.” Ruby rolls her eyes, but a satisfied smirk stays on her lips. Their banter continues for some time, but it plays out in my ears like a distant murmur.
What is this feeling? This hook of ire and revulsion at the thought of Jakob with—I screw my eyes shut. No, not Jakob. Vrana. I set my fork down with feigned ease and dab at the corner of my lips with the napkin in my lap. I need to get away from here. To leave the Dark Court. To leave him. To leave all of them.
“If you’ll excuse me.”
The conversation stops at my abrupt interjection. All eyes fall on me as I hastily stand. I ignore their frowns and pursed lips, gliding away from the table with an elongated stride. Only one pair of eyes follows my departure until I am out of sight. The reach of their gaze penetrates straight to my soul.
I have to leave. The sooner. The better.
++
No one comes to speak with me for the rest of the night, which suits me fine. My mind is too cluttered with thoughts—traitorous thoughts of want and a happily ever after I know can never exist. Not for me at least. Xander’s last command still wraps itself tightly around my will. Stay alive. Survive. I am surviving, but it's at a cost to my sanity and heart.
Where are they? Why haven’t they found me yet?
Sleep evades me. I toss and turn in my bed until I can take no more. The sitting room is abandoned—a fact that does not surprise me with a glance at the grandfather clock near the kitchenette. It is eleven in the morning. The knowledge of time does little to influence my state of mind. Without care and without a change of clothes, I slip from our apartment suite to wander the still corridors. A cold, dampness permeates the air and coats my skin.
The silence surrounding me is different than nights past, when I took the time to learn the winding halls. It’s… peaceful. All the vampyrés are in bed, and those who might still stand to be awake are nowhere to be found. Good.
I gaze upward. My feet propel me onward and up the spiral stairwell to the uppermost floor all the way to the Lunarium, where I halt. The sudden possibility of running into a vampyré inside with an Amethyst of the Aztec ring is undesirable, to say the least. And even though my superior hearing doesn’t pick up the sound of voices, I go the opposite way, hauling open a side door to an unexplored passage.
Light blares through the opening. Real, true light. I shy away, my eyes unused to the glaring sunlight.
“This is….” I sigh. The soft exhalation releases the nervous tension riding my body. “Wonderful,” I say, breathing in the sunshine and stepping into the glass corridor.
Ahead is another door, staged in the middle of the glass corridor, leading out onto a small balcony. The door cracks open with an angry squeal that's loud enough to make me look over both my shoulders. No one comes, but the ravens and other birds perched outside shoot me contemptuous looks.
“Sorry,” I mumble and close the door behind me. “Why am I apologizing to birds?” My brow furrows as I step to the edge of the balcony and clutch the old iron railing. The birds admonish me in a series of “caws” and “squawks.” Shifters.
I ignore them and their beady stares, close my eyes, and tilt my head back. The feel of the sun on my skin is wholly rejuvenating. It lifts my soul and clears the clutter from my thoughts.
My pack so far out of reach.
My place here.
Thoughts of Jakob. Thoughts of our soulmark. Thoughts of this growing, treacherous feeling inside of me.
The iron bar groans beneath the pressure of my grip, and the birds angrily slap their wings in my direction. My eyelashes flutter open as the sun retreats behind a layer of clouds. The end of August is closing in, and autumn winds are making an early appearance. A delicate breeze cools my skin. I sigh with longing and take a deep breath. The scent of crushed leaves and muddy earth fill my nose. The peeling rail scratches gently at my palms. I open my eyes to the turbulent sky above, a mixture of gray and pearly white and take another deep breath.
The autumn wind stirs again, its chilled fingers combing through what remains of the leaves high in the trees beyond. A whorl of leaves already fallen on the roof, both dry and sodden, rise with the gust.
If only I could rise with it and fly away home.
I turn my back to my taste of freedom and walk back to my room. Sleep finds me, but not nearly in time.
++
I wake for the night with a profound lethargy in my bones. Around me, the walls of my glorified cage seem smaller. My task to leave and reunite with my pack is greater. My feelings for Jakob… I reach for the glass of water on my bedside and gulp it down.
I can’t falter now.
Though Jakob is on to my movements and motives, I cannot stop myself from continuing down the path I have set myself upon. I cannot give up on my family. And yet, slowly but surely, the lupine within me has come to trust the Vrana vampyrés, their loyalty to Jakob, overflowing and spilling onto me. Where would I stand in the Dark Court without Ruby’s quick thinking, Nova’s fists, or Sebastian’s patience? Even Jax, who shares the same status as I in the Dark Court, has brought a sense of unspoken camaraderie to our relationship.
And Jakob… when did he become Jakob?
The empty glass shatters in my hand, and I let out a yelp. “Dammit.” I slip out from under my sheets carefully, brushing the larger pieces of glass from my hand with a short hiss. Flustered, I remove my nightgown, paranoid some pieces of glass may have shot out and gotten beneath the loose fabric.
A knock sounds at my door. I spare it a severe frown as I rush toward my robe.
“One moment,” I say, knowing that to raise my voice would be pointless.
While v
ampyré hearing isn’t as good as mine, it could easily hear through a door. I manage to pluck a shard from my palm and toss it in the small bin next to my vanity, before making it to the door, the belt of my robe secured with a tight knot.
“Good evening,” Sebastian says, voice quizzical as he peers past me into my room. He sniffs the air, eyes beginning to shift to red at the smell of my blood. He blinks the effect away, rolling his shoulders back and puffing up his chest. The downward tilt of his brow reminds me of one of Xander’s, wherein I’ve done something to provoke a reprimand. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “A minor accident with my water glass. Nothing more.”
He nods, but his brows only deepen. His mocha eyes carry a trace of concern around the edges. “May I come in?”
My heart skips a beat as I cast a cautious look down the hallway. I shuffle back and press against the door to allow Sebastian entry, then close it swiftly behind him.
“What is it you wished to speak about?” I ask, walking past him to sit at my vanity. I find my tweezers and ready a pair of tissues kept at the far end of the low table.
“Not long ago, you passed on an opportunity to meet with an acquaintance of mine. One who would have helped you to feel more comfortable with the goings-on of the Dark Court,” he says, voice low and steady as he comes to stand near me. “I would like to offer that opportunity to you again. I think it prudent we avoid a scenario like the one that occurred at the Lunarium. You haven’t been out the past few days, and the response to our performance has been… mixed.”
“I see.” A small, jagged square eases from the crease of my index and middle finger. Blood wells from the last of the freed impalements, and I press the tissue there. Splotches of red quickly overcoming the white, but I clench my fingers and ball the tissue up in my fist.
My eyes meet Sebastian’s in the mirror. From my seated position, he looks ridiculously tall, but that may also be due to his rigid posture.
“And when would you like me to meet this acquaintance of yours?”
His brows shoot up in surprise at my easy compliance. “You would be agreeable to meeting with them?”
Thoughts of my most recent encounter with Jakob come to mind. The building pressure between us increasing my heartbeat by a measure. I swallow, knowing the sudden rush of arousal I feel travels through the soulmark bond. Reverberating want echoes back, and a shiver rushes up my legs and across my breasts. My nipples harden at the thought of possibilities at our next encounter.
Sebastian coughs politely behind his fist, taking a step away from my seat. I color, shaking myself of the desire. How long until Jakob and I succumbed to the soulmarks aching command? To complete the next step of the soulmark and mark one another?
“I would. You’re right, it’s important I be prepared for whatever they might throw at us next.” My virginity has never felt so damming nor my lack of experience so acute. Though my sexual confidence can be feigned, the Dark Court’s public favor for darker seduction is out of my realm of knowledge. Willful ignorance will do me no good. “I’ll meet with them,” I say with conviction, looking over my shoulder at Sebastian.
A flash of relief crosses Sebastian’s face. His shoulders relax, and the creases in his forehead slowly fade. “Good. My acquaintance will meet with you tonight. I can arrange something within the hour.”
My eyes widen. I grip the flimsy tissue more firmly. “Tonight? But—”
“I know,” Sebastian interrupts. “You aren’t allowed to be seen out. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
Sebastian looks amused at my display of disbelief—arms crossed over my chest, and lips in a stern line. “I’ll have something sent for you to wear, so you can blend in with the crowd. Along with a small map to get you to the location.”
An exasperated sigh slips out of me. “All right. I’ll be here waiting.”
“Good,” he says. The hint of a genuine smile tugging on his lips. He gives a short bow, then vanishes from my room in a blur of movement to fast for me to catch.
++
Leather and lycans do not mix. The fabric lacks breathability, and with a core temperature several degrees higher than the average human, being confined in it is a hot mess. A hot and sweaty mess. Sebastian was either aware of this before he sent the costume to my room or honestly didn't know. I begrudgingly put more stock in the former because regardless of my discomfort, Sebastian's choice is clever. A leather bodysuit covers me from head to toe. The hooded cap, with its pointy ears, had been tricky to pull my ponytail through, but I managed the feat.
My fingers itch to adjust the cap where it lays across the bridge of my nose. Thankfully, the bottom half of my face is left uncovered, and I can breathe out of both my nose and mouth—otherwise, the catsuit would be much more uncomfortable than it already was.
Eyes pass over me like an afterthought; my costume’s lackluster in comparison to what’s worn around me. Angels dressed in sheer nighties with nothing underneath. A flock of black swans covered in well-placed feathers doting on Roman soldiers whose rippling abs are a feast for the eyes. Marie Antoinette, laughing over her “pearl” necklace as she kneels before a man buckling his cowboy pants.
The scent of sex and blood is all around me as I navigate the bustling corridors and popular sitting rooms to get to my destination. A man on all fours barks as I pass. He rears up on his knees and strains forward against the studded collar around his neck. The woman who holds his chain, dressed only in jewel necklaces, laughs along with her friend who wears the same fashion. I give a slight nod in their direction, plastering a wicked smirk onto my lips as I pass.
My pace quickens, as does my heart.
Goodness but this leather is stifling. The way it adheres to my body like a second skin leaves little to the imagination for those around me. I ache to take in a full breath, but my corseted front binds my ribs too close together. I grab the eye of a woman whose arms are throw up behind her to wrap around a man's neck. Lust darkens her gaze, a brazen moan bursting from her mouth as said man boldly strokes her, his hand disappearing under her short skirt.
I tear my eyes away and feel the ache between my thighs deepen as the leather rubs against my sex. Breathing deeply, I push past my discomfort and forge ahead. The sights are not unexpected. I have seen much already in the nightlife of the Dark Court, yet tonight sets a new standard. And everyone is taking advantage of the fact.
How will Vrana take advantage of the night?
The thought kills my growing excitement. Imagining Vrana in the arms of others—several others—brings about the stinging sensation of jealousy. I catch the eye of another courtier dressed in a similar leather outfit and level my hard stare at them. It brings the submissive to their knees as I pass, and I hurry off out of the Grand Salon, or try to at least.
“Hello.”
I stop, my heart skipping a beat as I turn to face the silky voice. A woman stands to my left wrapped in layers of gold fabric. “Hello,” I greet.
The woman smiles. Her heart-shaped face is half hidden by a lace mask, but it is oddly familiar. “We’ve yet to be properly introduced,” she says, holding out a hand.
The warmth of her flesh takes me by surprise, but it’s the palpable energy around her that sparks my recognition. Magic. It ripples over my skin and brings each hair to stand on end. My eyes lock on the mischievous glint in her eyes, and suddenly I remember.
“You’re Valdora.” She nods. This is the sorceress Jax wants in his pocket. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Valdora’s smile widens and begins to circle me. Her fair blue eyes trace a path over my sides and back, assessing my costume before coming to stand in front of me once more. I breathe deeply through my nose to hold back the shiver that dare climbs up my spine at her inspection and regret the action immediately. I sneeze, magic tingling uncomfortably under my nose.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” she says, a touch of laughter in her voice. “I’ve met a few members of your household already.” You’re quite an impressive lot, given your size.
“Oh, you know how the old saying goes, ‘quality over quantity.”
A smile breaks out over Valdora’s face. She presses closer when a pair of men in togas strut past. They stare as they go by and offer salacious smiles, when Valdora waves her fingers at them.
“You said you’ve met a few members of my household… I was only aware of your acquaintance with Jax.” Valdora blushes, losing a trace amount of her confident air at the mention of the sorcerer.
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your head of household, as well. He’s by far one of the most modern vampyré at court with both a sorcerer and lycan claiming his family name. He’s a breath of fresh air.” There is sincerity in her eyes when she speaks, a fact I store for a later time. “I myself come from a mixed family. My mother was a sorceress and my father a lycan. It’s nice to meet like-minded people.”
My eyebrows shoot toward my hairline. “You have lycan blood?” I ask. “Are you a hybrid?”
“Oh no,” she says quickly. “The lycan gene didn’t pass down to me, and it was quite by fate that I became a sorceress.”
“I see,” I murmur, looking her up and down. The woman is an enigma. No wonder Jax fought to stay in her favor. She’s strong.
“I’ll be sure to let Jakob know of your kind words,” I say. A pretty flush begins to color Valdora’s cheeks before she tampers it down. She closes the distance between us, pressing up against me in her golden attire and lowers her voice to a whisper as she bends to my ear.
“I’m glad to have run into you tonight. I would be most appreciative if you would tell Jax that I look forward to seeing him next week. He’s been rather busy recently, but there is still work to be done with the other sorcerers. And his presence is… missed.”
