As far as I could tell, all of Sparta attended that too. Which meant everyone at this ball would be there, yet no one seemed in a hurry to leave.
Are Spartans against sleep because they’re immortal?
Personally, exhaustion was hitting hard.
Two weeks straight of sleep deprivation made it hard to keep my eyes open.
It didn’t help that there seemed to be no food or refreshments at the ball, probably because of the intricate masks.
What’s a little more starvation after a lifetime?
I sighed again, then stumbled as I almost careened into a dancing triad—two men spun around a curvaceous woman in a sheer red dress.
Moving hastily, I flinched as I almost ran into four men dancing together in a circle.
The orchestra music was loud, and the lion’s head had limited visibility. A dull ringing echoed in my ear, and I struggled to orient myself.
Jewels sparkled on large swathes of exposed skin.
I rubbed at my aching wrists.
You don’t belong here.
The crucible had been horrible for a million reasons, but it had been isolated in a mountain.
Now an ancient culture glittered around me.
One I knew next to nothing about.
The hair on my neck stood up like I was being watched, and a scream bubbled in my throat.
You are in control of your thoughts. Keep it together, woman.
“Would you like to dance?” a modified voice asked.
A tall, powerfully built man in a perfectly tailored black suit—wearing a wolf’s head with crystals for eyes—stood before me.
Immediately my mouth went dry, and I shivered with unease.
The stranger was waiting for me to speak.
After coughing to clear my throat (and making it very weird) Ifinally found my voice. “Nope,” I said as I went to move around him, off the dance floor.
He shifted and blocked my path. “I insist.” He extended a black-gloved hand and bowed deeply like I was royalty.
My palms instantly started to sweat.Does he think I’m someone I’m not?
“Still a n-no,” I said as I tried to shove past him. It was like pushing against a brick wall. He didn’t budge.
“We’re going to dance now.” There was an edge of violence in his modified voice, something I didn’t like.
My instincts were telling me to run. “I don’t think you want to dance with me,” I whispered, not taking his hand and hoping to defuse whatever tension was building between us.
He stood where he was, perfectly still, crystal eyes focused on me. “I know,” he said slowly, “exactly what I want.”
The tension tripled.
I took a step back, jumping as I stepped straight into someone else.
