And I should have. Xavier may be toxic and possessive, but he values my safety above everything else. Part of me thinks I’m making a mistake. But the wounded part of me, the brokenness in my heart can’t stand his rejection. And lack of explanation. Why doesn’t he want me there at his side?
When June and I approach the fraternity gates, they part on command. That never fails to creep me out. Someone is definitely watching us.
We make our way inside, and she stops suddenly, her lips pursing. “Hey, I need to go to Declan’s room real quick. I forgot my clutch.”
“I can wait for you, or I can go by myself. No worries either way.”
June waves a hand in dismissal. “Go on ahead. I don’t want you to miss anything. Assuming it’s not some lame-ass party full of rich people who want nothing more than to shove their golden dicks in everyone’s faces.”
I choke a little. “I hope not.”
She winks at me and turns to head toward the stairs, the hem of her scarlet gown dragging along the steps. I watch her for a moment and then make my way to the ballroom located in the west wing.
The corridors of the castle are a maze, but June’s directions are clear in my mind, guiding me through the stone passageways that feel both ancient and alive. The flickering torches mounted on the walls cast elongated shadows, adding a sense of mystery and anticipation to the atmosphere.
Maybe that’s my imagination getting the best of me. What will I find when I get there? Will Xavier’s reason for telling me not to come be obvious? Or is he doing something that he doesn’t want me to know about? I trust him. However, his status as an assassin in a secret society isn’t exactly the best character reference.
The muffled sounds of music and laughter begin to filter through the heavy wooden doors at the end of the hallway. Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my hands by running them along my thighs. My dress and mask are like armor, a source of protection in a night filled with unknowns.
Pushing the doors open, I’m immediately struck by the grandeur of the ballroom. The descending staircase captures my attention first in the way it gracefully leads to the dance floor where the members of the Order congregate down below. All of them dressed entirely in black. From their dress shirts, tuxedos, and shoes, they’re covered in the inky hue, embodying the name they’ve been given: a crow.
In contrast, every woman present is wearing red, their gowns varying in shades from the deepest burgundy to the brightest scarlet. No doubt symbolic of the Blood Moon.
I swear, I’ve never met a group of people more attracted to symbolism. You’d think it was a religion.
Before my nerves can overtake me, I lift my chin head toward the top of the stairs, keeping my pace slow and even. With every step, the details of the ballroom become clearer. The intricate figures of the ceiling frescoes. The opulent chandeliers. The veins in the gleaming hardwood of the dance floor. And the tall, arched windows draped with heavy velvet curtains in black and gold.
I stop when I reach the top of the staircase and search for Xavier. I find him almost immediately. He stands with a small group on the outskirts of the crowd, his posture rigid and the lines of his tuxedo sharp, the black fabric complimenting his tall frame. It’s his eyes, though, that capture me—gray and piercing, even from across the room, even behind the mask that obscures his face. They’re fixed on me, intense and unreadable.
So much for the mask hiding my identity.
One by one, everyone’s attention turns toward me, their gazes ranging from curious to appreciative as Xavier makes his way to the stairs. To me.
My pulse kicks up a notch, unease making my hands tremble when he puts his foot on the first step and I catch the dangerous glint in his eyes. He ascends the stairs, his gait calm and controlled. But the closer he gets, the more the air fills with anticipation. Whispers weave through the crowd, a melody of speculation and intrigue. By the time he reaches the platform, the space around us is charged with dark energy, so far removed from the Cinderella fairy tale outcome I’d secretly hoped for.
My prince charming looks ready to kill me.
“Xavier,” I greet him, my voice steady despite the rioting emotions inside me. My use of his name, simple and direct, is a declaration, a refusal to be intimidated by his anger.
His response is a slight tilt of his head, his gaze narrowing to slits. “Bride.”
The crowd watches as Xavier lifts his hand and grabs me by the throat.
Chapter 20
XAVIER
The Sanguine Solstice is not just a celebration. It’s a gathering filled with theundercurrents of power plays and hidden threats. It’s a night when the eyes watching in plain sight are more dangerous than those from the shadows. I’ve taken every precaution to ensure Delilah stays away from this, to keep her shielded from the parts of my world that could harm her. And fuck with my sanity.
Declan crosses his arms, his gaze dull with boredom. “Where’s your bride?”
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to tell him to fuck off. “Where’s yours?”
“She’ll be here soon.”
“Why’d you invite her?” I lower my voice, my gaze darting back and forth, searching for anyone listening in on our conversation. “You’ve heard the rumors about these events.”
He shrugs, but the flash of emotion in his eyes belies the action. “It could be just rumors. Listen, I don’t trust the Order any more than you do, but my father will know something’s up if my bride isn’t here.”
