I wait at the golden double doors, the stake tucked tightly into the embellished bag that dangles from my wrist. My heart thrums with both excitement and anxiety. I’m on the precipice of something massive. There’s no turning back now.
Will my mother’s killer lie behind these doors?
Celeste stands a few steps behind me, as is tradition, or so I’m told. The hierarchy is truly awful here. Celeste harped on and on about it all the way here. It turns out that the regular humans are at the bottom of the food chain.
No surprise there.
And then there are creatures called ‘lesser vampires’ who aren’t allowed to attend the circus at all, followed by Familiars, and then The Five and their heirs. Of which there is only one—my master. Knox.
I’m still unbelievably pissed at him for how he treated me earlier. That insane orgasm he gave me is now overshadowed by his psychotic mood swings. The one time I indulge in anything remotely selfish since arriving here and he totally ruins the entire experience for me.
Knox is the last person I want to see. Yet the bond aches for him. It prickles low beneath my skin, serving as a constant reminder that I’m no longer in control of my own body anymore. And I don’t know when I will be able to regain control, either.
I burn for him. Ardently and endlessly. Jesus, that sounds like something straight out of a regency romance book.
What is happening to me? Is this man turning me… poetic?
The doors slowly swing open, revealing an elaborate ballroom straight out of a dark fairytale. Dimly lit, the candles burningall around the room cast a sultry glow over the cold marble floor. Both humans and vampires mingle together, shamelessly ogling the men and women who twirl their naked bodies around delicate pieces of ribbon dangling from the high ceiling.
I take a few tentative steps onto the balcony and peer down at them all through my mask. The different jewel-toned hues of skirts and tailcoats blend seamlessly into a multicolored sea of fabric against the polished white marble floor. Fantastic masks disguise each face, concealing predators from prey. Wigs just as fantastical as the masks complete the illusion. Some are powdered and piled high like whipped cream while others graze the floor with delicate rainbow ringlets. I wouldn’t be shocked if a real unicorn joins the party at some point. This place is a double-edged sword. At each end balances a dream and a nightmare.
Which one will it be tonight?
My hands twitch as I fight the urge to pull out the stake and start killing them all.
“You need to actually go down the stairs at some point, you know.” Celeste jabs my side, a smirk creeping across her face.
“This is insane.” My eyes search the crowded room.
“This is why they called it the city of dreams. After the binding, it will be like this every night. You’re practically the guest of honor—Chosen One. So go down there and act like you were made for this.” She lightly shoves me by my waist toward the top of the stairs. My dress suddenly feels like it’s made of heavy metals, not tulle and gossamer.
Can I pretend, just for tonight? Can I mingle with my enemies and uncover the information I need to free the humans and plot my escape?
I take one last look at the party from my advantageous viewpoint and spot a table of champagne piled high in a neattriangle. I map a path in my head and take a deep breath before descending the stairs.
The orchestra strikes up a new chord, the song slower than the previous one. It sounds curiously like the lullaby I heard at the entrance to the tent. This time, I don’t fight the cool wave of serenity that coats my senses. I let the music and the magic it weaves drown any fears deep into the bottom of my mind, quietly reminding myself that if I’m going to blow the lid off this place, I need to become a part of their world.
His world.
The bond twists itself into a tight knot, replacing the aching hollowness with prickling goosebumps.
He is here. But where?
I make my way through the crowd, ignoring the inquisitive stares of those who dance around me, determined to claim a glass of champagne before I lose my nerve. Halfway through, I find my path blocked by a crimson-eyed man, his wooden mask carved into an elephant.
“Danniella, would you allow me to be your first dance?”
I instinctively cringe at the use of my full name, but then sigh in relief once I recognize the wise old voice of Cyprian. Not that I’m convinced he’s a friend or even someone I can trust, but he’s probably one of the few here who doesn’t want me dead. Although the way his curious eyes rake over my exposed shoulders has me second guessing that thought.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Because I’m supposed to be the chosen one? Or because he’s remembering the crazy shit Knox and I did earlier?
Oh, God.
A blush creeps up my neck towards my jaw as I eye his gloved, outstretched hand. Some treacherous part of me wonders if Knox’s erotic talents are learned or hereditary.
“I couldn’t possibly dance without having some champagne first,” I say, giving him a small smile.
