He took her breath away. Dressed in a white tuxedo jacket and black tux trousers in his preferred well-fitted style, Dusk’s shirt was an iridescent midnight color the same as his scales and Layla’s dress. Open at the neck without a bow-tie, Dusk’s shirt showed the ridges of midnight scales cascading over his collarbones, glinting in the bright chandeliers. His incredible skin was both his costume and jewelry; rippling with subtle light, his sapphire-diamond eyes were vibrant behind a half-masque that left his beautiful jaw and lips visible.
An amazing creation, Dusk’s masque was a twin of Layla’s but with starker lines, deeper colors, and more serrated, cruel-looking scales. A male version of Layla’s female one, two sets of corkscrewing diamond and oilslick-dark spines cascaded up from Dusk’s masque like a flared mantle, arching back and up. His only jewelry was his sapphire and diamond Rolex, plus matching cufflinks on his French-cuffed shirt. But as he dazzled Layla, standing there nonchalantly and grinning at her, she realized his costume merely echoed what he would one day become.
A powerful Crystal Dragon – a force to reckon with.
Grinning to beat the band, Dusk gave a low courtier’s bow – though his vibrant eyes never left hers. Layla felt herself heat at how amazing he looked, how masculine and seething with dangerous, luminous energy. “Layla Price,” he whistled at her, low and wolfish, “you look stunning.”
“Right back at you.” She quipped, floored by him. “Someone stole my costume idea, I see.”
“Amalia might have leaked a few details about your outfit,” he grinned, sly. “I asked her to improve upon the idea, slightly.”
“I think she outdid herself,” Layla blinked, still amazed.
“For both of us.”
“Are you ready?” Dusk sobered, his clear blue eyes penetrating through his masque. He offered his arm, watching Layla. And suddenly, she knew this was it. Once she took his arm, she would be showing the entire Hotel that she was bound to Dusk now. And though that made her heart race with exhilaration and fear to be so bold, Layla knew it was the right choice. Dusk had been more than a friend these past months. He’d been a mentor and a confidante, a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on. He’d been her teacher in Twilight Realm politics, and her guide through harrowing magical engagements. He was a Clan First and a powerful force.
And though Adrian was bound to Layla’s heart, Dusk was no less.
Not by a long shot.
“I do believe you’re ogling me again, Layla Price,” Dusk spoke low, a curl of pleasure on his lips as a smooth vibration thrummed Layla.
“I am ogling you,” Layla spoke, “because you deserve to be ogled, Dusk Arlohaim. Always.”
Moving forward, she took his arm – then lifted to her toes, setting her lips to his. She had to be careful with their masques, to not accidentally twine their diamond-spire horns together, but as her lips met Dusk’s, she felt him smile. They kissed gently, a delightful thing of slow presses and subtle licks. He used none of his magics, but as they eased away, Layla found herself breathing hard, her pulse fast just from the feel and taste of him. Dusk breathed his pleasure out upon her lips in a sigh, a renegade darkness to his beaming light. As Layla watched, a ripple of illumination curled through his skin and artfully-styled dark hair.
Lighting his scales up like a night full of stars – that the diamonds on his masque could never hope to match.
“You slay this Crystal drake, Layla Price,” he breathed at her lips. “Are you ready to go show the world what we are?”
“A power couple?” Layla grinned at his lips, nuzzling his nose.
“A power to be reckoned with.” Dusk spoke back, intensity radiating from his gaze. “Couple or no.”
“Absolutely.”
Reaching up, Layla kissed his lips once more, feeling that blissful diamond-gold light cascade through them both. She loved it that Dusk didn’t need to define what they were to each other. And as Layla kissed him, she felt something open up deep inside her, simply because he didn’t need to possess her. As they kissed, something like a thread of diamond light eased down her lips and throat, into the deepest part of her. Layla inhaled, feeling that beautiful energy curl into her heart. As their kiss broke, she breathed quietly, stunned – feeling Dusk touching a part of her that no one, not even Adrian, had ever touched.
Gazing up at him, Layla was brought to silence by whatever had just passed between them. For a moment Dusk was also, his eyes closed as he set his forehead against hers, a look of bliss upon his face beneath the masque. At last he surfaced, coming back with a deep inhalation as his eyes opened – entirely diamond-white around his dark pupils.
“Ready to take the world by storm, Layla Price?”
“Don’t you mean by diamond light?” She quipped back, grinning.
“Absolutely.”
With a rakish gleam in his amazing eyes, Dusk set her hand on his arm. They set out down the hall, ready to claim the night as they headed down the grand main staircase. As they neared the first floor, Layla saw the party was already in full swing. Orchestral music curled through the air with unearthly sounds. The main floor of the Hotel was packed with people – eating hors d’oeuvres by the fountains, getting drinks at the copper bars, laughing gregariously. All were clad in masqued costumes, the men in tuxes or sexually ostentatious outfits like David Bowie in Labyrinth. The women were no less wildly arrayed – elegant evening gowns accented by bird feathers, animal hides, scales, tree branches, and every manner of precious gems.
Twilight folk spared no expense for the Grand Masquerades.
But none were so instantly striking as Layla and her date. Heads turned, watching Layla and Dusk descend the sweeping grand staircase beside the main Concierge desk. Applause began in the crowd, and it took Layla a moment to realize that the Hotel was applauding their Head Concierge and his date in their exquisitely impressive costuming. Though Layla and Dusk’s creations were made of cool midnight colors, they glowed beneath the bright chandeliers. Either by Amalia’s magic or Dusk’s thundering intensity, which Layla suddenly felt him roll out in a wave through the crowd, Dusk and Layla were suddenly the toast of the evening as they stepped off the crimson-carpeted stairs into the masses below.
Masques and magic swirled around Layla, people pressing in, touching her dress and caressing her skin, laughing – all of it instantly overwhelming. But though Layla froze in the sudden attention, panic creeping up her throat, Dusk was effortlessly effete. His rolling laugh was jubilant as he clasped hands, his smile gregarious, his quips witty. Navigating expertly through the crowd with his usual panache, Dusk kept Layla close as he steered them through a swirl of magic she could barely breathe in.
Tucking his arm around her waist, he escorted them out of the throng and into the Grand Ballroom – into breathing space at last. Layla was finally able to look around, relieved from the intensity of the Hotel’s packed main hall. Still early in the festivities, the main hall had been where everyone bottlenecked, and as they entered the Grand Ballroom, Layla found that although it was busy with a crowd and dancing, there was space to catch her breath.
Glowing from stem to stern, the Grand Ballroom was the site of the main revelry, even though dozens of events were happening all around the grounds tonight. Enormous, the ballroom was half a football field in size and decorated like the mirror-hall of the Palace of Versailles. The ballroom where the Hotel held its grandest celebrations, it glowed with light, laughter, and music tonight, Catering staff whisking around in special gold and crimson uniforms as they served gilded trays of drinks and small bites.
