Shayde switched the masks, gently placing his in my hands as he circled behind me and lifted the wolf mask to my face.
“I made these with material that should stay comfortable through the night without being too heavy,” he murmured. “It’s important we keep them on until we’re sure it’s safe.”
A shiver traced down my spine as his fingers brushed along the sides of my face, tying the mask into place. Hemadethese?
The thought struck me like a second wind—quiet, unexpected, and deeply personal. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The crowd behind us was pressing forward.
I tied Shayde’s mask quickly, and together we filed in with the rest of the guests.
My heart kicked up as we stepped through Tyria’s gates, blending in as casually as everyone around us. Laughter and excited chatter swelled. Guests swapped memories of last year’s masquerade and admired each other’s masks like they hadn’t queued for hours.
Near the oversized double doors, the crowd shifted. Partners linked arms; voices dropped to intimate murmurs.
I hesitated, then slipped my arm through Shayde’s. He tensed for a heartbeat before his muscles eased and we moved in step, ascending the concrete stairs.
“Name?” a guard asked at the top.
My heart stuttered. My jaw parted slightly, and I froze. We hadn’t prepared aliases. We were about to blow this whole thing before it even started.
“Lofty,” Shayde answered smoothly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The guard glanced at a long scroll, eyes scanning, then gave a curt nod and motioned us forward. I didn’t breathe until we passed him. Another Tyrian took our cloaks.
We stepped into a grand foyer that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairytale—nothing like the cold, lifeless exterior of the castle. A golden chandelier shimmered high above, mirrored by matching sconces and gilded accents lining the walls. The light danced across the pristine white marble floor.
My heels clicked against the surface—until one slipped.
My foot wavered beneath me, but Shayde’s hand slid over mine, steadying me before I could stumble. The tension in my arm flared as I fought to keep my composure.
He leaned in as if sharing a lover’s secret. “If I can feel how much you hate me,” he murmured, breath skimming my neck, “they will too.”
I kept my gaze on the room. “Normally, I’d laugh at being thrown to the wolves. But these wolves? I can’t tame. And I just so happen to have a poisonous snake wrapped around my arm. So yes—I may be on edge.”
Shayde snorted under his breath.
I rolled my eyes.I know—I was always on edge.
The crowd thinned as we entered a grand hall disguised as a ballroom.
The vaulted ceiling soared, its sweeping mural giving each corner to an element—fire, water, earth, air. At the center, wherethey converged, hung a stunning white chandelier, its facets catching light like the Mareki Gem itself. Dozens of floating orbs drifted overhead, casting a soft, golden glow.
I might’ve called it the most breathtaking sight I’d ever seen—if it weren’t filled with people who wouldn’t blink before killing us.
Elegance wouldn’t fool me. Any mask could hide a dagger; any smile, a lie. The music and light might lull others, but I knew better. Something sinister was happening tonight—beneath the silks, the jewels, the laughter. This wasn’t a celebration.
It was a distraction.
The music’s tempo climbed, and before I could process the shift, Shayde tugged me onto the dance floor. I barely kept up in these cursed heels as he bowed—like the other masked men—and kissed my knuckles. Then, without missing a beat, he drew me into his arms.
One hand locked at my lower back, the other held mine tight as we turned with the crowd. My chest pressed to his with every step.
“Want to play a game?” he murmured.
I looked up at him—my usual line on his lips.
The sharp cut of his jaw gave his serpentine mask an edge. His dark eyes stayed unreadable. Chandelier light skimmed the break in his nose—the one I’d given him over a year ago. Still, he moved with fluid precision, guiding me cleanly through the measures.
“And what would that be?” I asked sweetly, sugar dusting steel.
