But the way Knox takes hold of my hand and squeezes it makes me think I’ve already given myself away. I lean into his touch, the charge between our skin earning me a satisfied thrum through the invisible attachment between us. I focus on that feeling and all of the dangerous admissions that were said in secret. My fears melt away.
With the dancing at an end, the crowd around us begins to turn their attention to the balcony above. Knox moves deeper into the crowd, using the various over-the-top costumes as camouflage while Celeste holds my arm in a vise-like grip. Clearly something is wrong for them to be flanking me like this, but I keep my focus on the bond and how happy it feels to receive his affection.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Egor announces from the balcony. “Thank you for your attendance tonight. I know everyone is eager to begin the real celebrations, so I won’t keep you long.” Dark chuckling fills the room and Knox’s body grows tense against mine.
What does Egor mean? Hasn’t the party begun already?
“Tonight, we celebrate the closing of the Familiars’ training, a series of games we all look forward to. But this year was special. As you all know, Knox, the sole heir to council member Cyprian, has finally agreed to fulfil his duty as a member of our coven by taking a Familiar for the first time in one hundred years.”
The crowd erupts into applause. I glance over at Celeste to see her hanging her head, those blood red garnets fixating on the floor.
“For those of you who are wondering why this is so important to us, I will indulge you all in a little history lesson.” Egor’s eyes gleam as he searches the crowd.
I don’t need to be a mind reader to know who he’s looking for. And sure enough, when his gaze fixates on me, his eyes swirl with malice.
“Our race was created by a group of powerful beings, many centuries ago. You know these beings as witches, but we called them binders. Since they could manipulate magic to do their bidding, we were created as the ultimate weapon, built to hunt and destroy any human in our path.”
I swallow and try to retain all of the information Egor is so freely offering.
“When the binders began to cause too much of a stir, the humans took it upon themselves to burn the magic wielders at the stake. It was a bloody time in our history. But from the ashes of the binders rose our creator. A young binder who dabbled in dark, forbidden magic, saved their own race, and created ours. The humans didn’t stand a chance, of course. We slaughtered so many, driving ourselves to the brink of insanity with bloodlust. The young binder allowed us to sully our souls, commanding us to save them from being burned, before ultimately turning on us by casting a hideous curse upon our coven.
“Sunlight burned our flesh. We felt our emotions again. And we were given the gift of immortality, forced to relive every single kill. We won the war, and then we were banished deep beneath the earth with only a trickle of power to sustain us. That power is fortified by a ritual—we call it the binding. Where each of your oldest leaders agree to share their power with humans so we might survive another year.”
All this information is too much. I need a notebook and a pen.
“So now, I raise a toast. To Knox and Danniella: may this celebration provide a bountiful harvest, thanks to your sacrifices.”
Sacrifices?
I turn to Knox, the ice blue veins in his neck thumping hard against his translucent skin.
“What sacrifice?” I whisper as the crowd claps and cheers in our direction. I watch his throat bob.
“When you are bound to me, you will become something different than what you are now.” He keeps his hard eyes fixed on Egor.
“Different? Knox, what are you talking about?” I break my arm free of Celeste’s grip to turn toward him fully.
“And now, as is tradition…” Egor’s voice carries over the crowd, dragging my attention back to him. “I commence the harvest!”
Upon his words, chaos ensues.
It all happens faster than my human mind can process.
Shadows move in a blur and the chandeliers above us shake. Screams echo throughout the ballroom.
Then there’s blood.
So much blood.
It splatters across my dress and face. The world is nothing but ribbons of free-flowing plasma, distorted faces and pearlescent sharp teeth as the ballroom becomes a slaughterhouse.
My mind screams at my body to do something, to help stop the massacre taking place before my very eyes. But I’m frozen.
“Knox, get her out of here,” Celeste shouts. Her voice sounds different, deeper and husky.
I turn to her, and Celeste’s face has twisted into the monster that lies beneath her skin. Dark crimson eyes. Heavy-set eyebrows. Wrinkles deforming her pale flesh.
“I can’t control it. Get her out of here before they all descend upon her.” Her whole body trembles as the smell of copper floods the air.
