The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Heather Hildenbrand

  There’d be no winners tonight.

  Jhaeros tucked me against his chest and I allowed him to cradle me, pressing soft kisses to my head. I felt lulled by him, safe from all the monsters. Protected, if only for a moment. I rested my head against him, eyes fluttering closed, and breathed in pine and sandalwood—the scent of home.

  I felt weightless in his embrace and, without meaning to, I drifted off. I couldn’t have slept long, maybe ten minutes. Confusion clouded my mind like mist when I came to. Before opening my eyes, I remembered arriving at an enchanted castle. I was still there—in a room with Jhaeros.

  I no longer felt myself pressed against him; I was lying on my side on the settee.

  I pried my eyes apart slowly, afraid I’d find myself alone. But Jhaeros hadn’t left. He sat across from me on the armchair, his suit jacket snug over his broad shoulders and shirt buttons fastened up to his neck. He sat staring at me gravely—holding my golden mask loosely in his fingers.

  Chapter Seven

  No. No. No. This couldn’t be happening.

  I was still dreaming, stuck in a nightmare. I nearly slapped my face feeling for the mask, even though I could see it clearly resting in Jhaeros’s lap.

  The lips that had devoured mine earlier were now pressed together in a grim line.

  “Aerith,” Jhaeros said, disbelief heavy in his voice.

  I scrambled up to a sitting position, hands brushing over my skirts to make sure I was fully covered. My heart thundered in my chest and anger flared in my head.

  “How dare you?” I demanded. “How dare you remove my mask while I was unconscious?”

  Jhaeros flinched at my choice of words.

  “I had to know who you were.”

  “You had no right,” I cried out, getting to my feet.

  He remained seated, jaw set, brown eyes lifting with me.

  “And what right had you to deceive me?” he asked in a deep, probing voice.

  “Deceive you?” I asked with a sneer, placing my hands on my hips. “I told you from the start I wanted to be left alone. I wore that mask for privacy—something you’re obviously incapable of respecting.”

  Jhaeros’s eyes narrowed. His eyes flicked down at the mask in his hands then back up to my face.

  “Does your father know you’re here?”

  I dropped my arms and laughed bitterly.

  “Who do you think insisted upon my attendance?”

  Jhaeros frowned. “Elred made you come—alone? Why?”

  “Why do you think? He wants me to find another mate to pay his bills.”

  Jhaeros’s eyes squeezed shut when he scowled. He got to his feet, gripping my mask.

  “I ought to pound him in the face for treating you this way.” The anger in Jhaeros’s voice sent a thrill of pleasure through me.

  I shook my head to clear it. The words “Jhaeros” and “pleasure” didn’t belong in the same universe, let alone sentence, together.

  Jhaeros’s chest rose as he took a deep, rumbling breath and released it. “But I suppose I will have to hold back if I am to endure him as a father-in-law.”

  Jealous rage cut through me like shards of ice—freezing over then burning away into molten fury.

  “You still mean to go after Shalendra?” I spit out. “Good luck with that! I wish you success, Jhaeros. You two deserve one another.” I pivoted on the balls of my feet and stormed toward the door.

  Before I could make it out of the room, Jhaeros leaped between the door and me, the color rising in his cheeks. His large frame blocked my escape while his deep brown eyes stripped me bare.

  “It is not your sister I mean to mate, Aerith. It is you.”

  My breath caught in my throat and my toes curled inside my golden slippers. A surge of drunken joy and hope swirled through me before catching fire and burning to ash inside my stomach. I looked away.

  “You are not obligated to mate me,” I said softly.

  “I am a male of honor,” Jhaeros said. “I will do right by you.”

  Honor, of course. Was that the only reason he’d propose to me?

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” I spat. “It’s not as though you took my maidenhood. Besides, what happens at the ball, stays at the ball. Once you’re back in Pinemist, you’re free to forget about me altogether.”

  “You think I could forget you?” Jhaeros demanded.

  I shrugged and kept my head down, unable to meet his penetrating stare. Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw a flash of gold after Jhaeros released my mask. As it fluttered to the stone floor, he took me by the shoulders and backed me against the wall, head dipping low to meet my lips. His mouth was warm and demanding. Halfheartedly, I tried to push him away, but the moan that rolled off my traitorous tongue didn’t convince him to let go.

  He cupped one of my breasts over the corset. My eyes squeezed together as I gasped. His other hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against his hard length. I reopened my eyes and parted my lips to allow his tongue to probe and devour mine.

  Jhaeros broke off the kiss but didn’t pull away. His brown eyes delved into mine from half an inch away.

  “I want to love you like this every day for the rest of my life, Aerith Heiris.”

  “It’s Elmray now,” I said.

  He growled, grip tightening on my waist.

  “I want it to be Keasandoral.”

  “What if I just want to be left alone?”

  “Is that really what you want, Aerith? Do you truly wish to leave the ball and never see me again?”

  His body stiffened, and he seemed to hold his breath waiting for my reply.

  I could lie, tell him that after tonight I wanted us to go our separate ways and never think or speak of what we’d done again. As though it had never happened. With time, perhaps the memory would fade like the fog clinging to the castle’s grounds. All of this would become nothing more than a beautiful dream.

  Stabbing pain lanced through my chest. My heart felt ready to break apart at the thought of giving him up.

  “No,” I answered honestly.

  Jhaeros’s face seemed to brighten.

  “Perhaps an easier question is this, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

  I squinted at him. “You dance?”

  “Indeed, I do. And apparently you play campaigne quite well.”

  “Quite well,” I repeated, raising a brow. “You mean like a champion three worlds over.”

  “You never won the game.” Jhaeros lifted his nose.

  Ah, there was the arrogant elf I remembered. But somehow, right then, it didn’t bother me.

  I placed one hand on my hip. “Only because you never let me finish.”

  “I got distracted.”

  “More like you did the distracting to save face.”

  “A rematch then,” Jhaeros said, his eyes lighting up. A smile really suited him. It softened his features and made him appear younger. “One of many I hope to enjoy. Feel free to distract me anytime,” he added playfully.

  He offered me his arm. I placed my hand on his sturdy arm and he opened the door, ushering me out—leaving the mask behind.

  Torchlight flared along the corridor, its heat warming my arms. The hall didn’t seem as gloomy as I remembered when first walking it alone.

  We passed through the archway, rejoining the crowd and music within the ballroom. A seductive melody played and amorous couples pressed against one another, many looking disheveled. Leave it to Jhaeros to look just as immaculate as when he’d arrived. Not one button undone. At least I’d managed to muss his lush brown hair a bit, but it was nothing compared to the number he’d done on my tresses, which now tumbled freely down my back and over my shoulder.

  Jhaeros led me to the dance floor then pulled me against him by my hips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed wistfully. “Suddenly I don’t want this night to end.”

  “The ball must end, but we don’t have to,” Jhaeros said.

  I chewed on my bottom lip. “I ca
n’t leave my sister, Melarue.”

  “That little hellion?” Jhaeros asked with a chuckle. “She’d be welcome too. I have several spare chambers for her to choose from.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course, she’s your family.”

  “What about my other family?”

  “They’d be welcome to visit, if you wished it,” Jhaeros said gruffly.

  “What if I never want to see them again?”

  “Then I’ll turn them away.” He sounded eager to follow through with the promise as he said the words.

  I leaned back and looked in Jhaeros’s eyes. “Even Shalendra?”

  He dipped forward until his forehead was practically touching mine. “Especially Shalendra.”

  My lips pressed into a soft smile.

  “And what of my father’s bills? What if he wants you to,” I pressed, wrinkling my nose, “buy me?”

  “Not a chance,” Jhaeros growled. “He’s a widower. If he wants to maintain his extravagant lifestyle, he can go find himself a wealthy mate. A father should look out for his offspring, not the other way around.”

  I hugged myself against Jhaeros, not wanting to let go. He squeezed me back.

  “Can I call on you tomorrow?”

  I chuckled softly. “I believe it already is tomorrow.”

  “Today then? This afternoon?” He sounded as eager as a young elfling about to open gifts on winter solstice.

  My insides warmed and hummed. I still couldn’t believe it was Jhaeros Keasandoral causing this new feeling of weightlessness, comfort, and passion to take possession of my heart. I’d tasted his lips, had him inside me, and—most personal of all—been allowed a glimpse into the window of his soul. I’d seen a side of him most creatures would never know, and I wanted more of it. More of him.

  “It’s your move, Jhaeros,” I said, lowering my voice.

  When he looked at me, his brown eyes appeared to darken. The longing in that gaze stole my breath away.

  “You’ve already captured my heart.”

  My limbs turned pliant and I nearly melted into my golden slippers. To be loved so openly felt like the purest bliss. Like magic.

  We pressed together and held one another, dancing amongst the beautiful creatures in the dim light until the music stopped and we were directed outdoors to watch the fireworks.

  Bright lights exploded overhead as the fog thickened around our ankles. Jhaeros laced his fingers around mine as our heads lifted to the sky. Orangey-yellow light exploded and fractured into dozens of shimmering pieces.

  The next burst of light expanded wider, filling the entire sky—casting the grounds in a blinding flash of white light.

  When I next blinked, I found myself standing alone in the dark courtyard at my family’s estate in Sweetbell.

  The lanterns had burned out and no one rushed forward to greet me, but I no longer felt alone. I could still feel the heat from Jhaeros’s hand in mine, see the promise in his deep brown gaze, and feel the warmth in my heart that Jhaeros was mine.

  He’d come for me.

  I would not turn him away.

  The End – For Now

  You can read more from Aerith and Jhaeros in Stolen Princess!

  Turn the page for more Monster Ball…

  The

  Red Huntress

  By Stacey Marie Brown

  Chapter One

  Riley

  They call me Red.

  Not for the color of my hair, mine’s black as night; nor the cape I wear when I hunt, that came after.

  My name is Red…for the blood trail I leave.

  I am a hunter, a rare magical witch gifted to destroy the werewolves that plague our land. A job I ate and breathed for the last year after the brutal death of my parents.

  A few clouds drifted across the bright full moon suspended high in the sky, drenching the earth like the darkness decided to leave on a nightlight. My feet moved me slowly up the path, drawing me closer to an old dark castle looming in the distance. I looked down at the ticket in my left hand, which stated I had been invited to the most prestigious supernatural ball in the world, one you could only be invited to if you weren’t completely human.

  I had grown up with witches and wizards in a tiny village, but they were still human, and most didn’t hold enough fae magic to be granted an invitation here.

  A feeling of excitement in the air caused my nerves to dance along my spine. Around me, guests strolled up toward the stone archway, prattling with animation, their voices shrill and excited, merely adding to my anxiety.

  “Maybe this year we’ll actually learn who the host is,” a woman squealed to her friend.

  The mystery of the host, whoever put on the illustrious event of the year, was in constant speculation. The ambiguity only created more desire to be included on the guest list, hoping to catch a glimpse of the enigmatic host. But my excitement resonated from something entirely different than dancing and drinking or making guesses on which creature was the organizer.

  I knew he would be here. His status would almost demand for him to make an appearance. No supernatural alive would turn down an invitation to the infamous Monster Ball. I’ve heard about it all my life, but this was the first year I got invited because I was now one of them. A “monster” of the night. Magic coursed through my body, giving me special abilities I never had until they had been passed down to me. Capabilities I would gladly give back if it meant I could have stopped what happened that night. To see my family again.

  My fingers moved down my thigh, gliding over the silky fabric of my gown, finding the opening of the high slit barely a few inches below my waist, barely concealing the dagger holstered around my leg. I heard the rumors. No weapons were allowed at the ball, but our coven’s elder promised this one would get through, the invocation strong enough to hold up against the enchantment guarding the castle.

  A sense of calm washed over me feeling the weapon, the magic pumping off it, knowing it would do the job I needed it to do. I normally liked to hunt with my axe or bow, but none of those could be hidden under a dress which hugged my every curve.

  Blood red, the dress plunged into a deep V in front, the hem reaching the floor; the high slit up my right leg letting me move freely. The back of the gown was a cape, pouring down the back, cascading like water as I sauntered toward the opening of the castle. It fit like it was made for me. Normally I kept my hair tied back, but tonight I let my long black hair flow down in glossy waves. My lips were blood red, and so were my heels.

  I had been aware how the opposite sex responded to me since I hit puberty. They usually were not very sly about it. With my father’s Romanian heritage, I had his dark hair, olive skin, height, and exotic features. But I had my mother’s lean frame, high cheekbones, and gray eyes. Men were easy to understand. Being “pretty” meant very little to me. I’d rather read or kickbox than think about nail polish. It was simply a tool. Like how Sups, Supernaturals, used theirs to reel in their victims, I used mine. And tonight I had on my full hunting gear.

  In the last year, I had grown both emotionally and physically. The girl who had hid in the closet, silently screaming, was gone. The girl who crawled across the floor, seeing her parents in shreds, crying, nails and body caked in their blood, smoke burning her lungs, had died in the cinders, along with her childhood home that night.

  Since the moment he disappeared into the darkness almost a year ago, my life had been dedicated to training. Relentlessly. Unyielding. His death was all I dreamed about and the reason I trained until my body and mind gave out. His golden eyes and daggered teeth dripping scarlet were my impetus to keep going. Revenge was my air. My food. My dreams. And my salvation.

  My mentor did not think a year was enough time for me to equal a supernatural creature of his age and stature. But I could not wait any longer for such a perfect opportunity—a time when he would be unguarded and relaxed. My reputation was already spreading across the country. Red Huntress. It wouldn’t be long
until he figured out the Vanator family line did not end and was now hunting him.

  If I missed this chance, there would not be another occasion, and he would come after me, set on purging the earth of one of the greatest threats to his kind.

  My steel-colored eyes looked on the waves of magic humming around the entrance of the crumbling estate, which seemed almost abandoned. So, this is where the infamous Monster Ball is being held this year?

  Taking a breath, I knew once I stepped inside the archway, there was no going back. I strode through an archway, the magic feeling like thick fog tickling my skin. My fingers stayed on my blade, feeling the magic pulse against the charm wanting to guard the party from people like me. Those who planned to kill. The air wobbled around me until I stepped through the glamour, feeling as though I entered another world, the dagger still attached to my leg.

  I stopped, my mouth dropping at the transformed castle and grounds before me, feeling about as tiny as a mouse. An imposing house now welcomed me. The old dingy building was gone; in its stead was an exquisite pristine castle, like we stepped back in time to its prime.

  Guests bustled around me, eager to get inside. A dense mist rolled over the grass on either side of the clear stone pathway, directing us up a trail to the entrance. My heels clicked along the path, my gaze catching on purple twinkling lights floating around the fog, like hundreds of supernatural fireflies were joining in on the festivities.

  People in groups or pairs dodged around me, laughing and giddy with excitement. I watched a woman thread her arm through a man’s. Leaning into him, she whispered in his ear, both grinning with a shared secret. Loneliness echoed in my gut, thumping in my empty soul. Most of the time I could ignore the solitude, conditioning myself until I passed out. I was used to being by myself. I had no family left and was mostly in the company of an old grouchy elder witch our coven called “Grandma.” She was my mentor and took me under her wing. She may have been old, but that woman could kick my ass and knew more about magic than anyone, probably because she had been alive since the dawn of time.