His heart dropped when he saw who held Ara tightly in their clutches as the music ended.
“Uncle, I believe you have terrorized my date with your horrendous dancing for long enough,” Cal said, taking Ara into his arms and holding her close. He could feel her trembling.
Cyrus’s thin lips quirked into a smile. “Arabella failed to mention she was here with a date, let alone that it was with my nephew. You seem to have failed to make an impression.”
“Ara is more well-mannered than most,” Cal said, his throat tight at the thought of his uncle touching Ara. “Your ridiculous mustache alone is enough to stiffen even the sharpest tongue as they try to refrain from laughter, uncle.”
Cyrus tsked. “One of your quips from the carriage ride I presume? Truly, I expected more with how long you had to think of something.”
A battle of wits and perhaps even skill would have eventually broken out if Cal had been let to continue but Ara tugged him away. Cyrus stared them down as she brought him into the same hidden alcove just outside the main hall.
His thoughts immediately turned from his uncle to how delectable Ara smelled, like night-blooming jasmine, and honeysuckle. He wanted to bring her a bouquet of those exact flowers the next time he saw her.
He ran his nose along her throat to under her ear where he nipped the lobe. His fingers traced the flowers embroidered on the rib cage of her gown, the crystal centers like a code beneath his fingertips.
“Cal,” she breathed. “Stop. I need to tell you something.”
His thoughts cleared as soon as he heard her say stop and he stepped back, giving her space. She clung to his forearms, keeping him close.
“Cal, your uncle has a man in a dungeon of some sort.” Ara’s voice was low and urgent. “He’s kept him there for years.”
Cal’s eyebrows knitted together. “He told you about that? Ara, I promise you I just found out about it. I had no idea–”
“I saw him, Cal.” Ara’s eyes pleaded with him to believe her, “As soon as your uncle’s hands touched mine I could see that man in that horrible cell and all the terrible things Cyrus says when he visits him. How he tries so hard to maintain his dignity and sense of self and how hard Cyrus tries to beat it out of him. We have to rescue him, Cal. Tonight, while Cyrus is distracted.”
Cal ran a hand through his hair. Ara didn’t have to beg him. He knew what she said was true. He had wanted to free that man from the moment he had seen him but he had also wanted to use the ball to search for the Omnis stone, to find it before anyone else, namely his uncle or his brother did.
Ara waited patiently for him to sort his thoughts but her sparkling blue eyes did him in. His answer was almost instantaneous.
“Of course, Ara.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, a lip he so desperately wanted.
“I couldn’t tell where the dungeon was. It could be anywhere.” She was wringing her hands now.
He took her hands in one of his and lifted her chin. “I know exactly where it is. I’ve hidden in it plenty of times.”
Ara's face was adorably confused. “What are you talking about?”
Cal sighed. “I know where it is because it’s in the manor I grew up in. The place where my mother lost her mind and where my father lost his life. The place where my entire world came to an end.”
“Oh, Cal.” A tear slid down Ara’s cheek. “I can’t ask you to go there.”
He shook his head and opened a portal, taking her hand as he stepped through. “I would follow you to hell if that’s where you were going. Where you go, I go.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Seren Marudas
Shewantedtolookforward to this night. Craved that longing and excitement she’d seen in the other young witches who giggled and whispered about which wizards they would try to snag for a dance. Most had the more prominent family names memorized and Darkmore was brought up more than once—although it was always with a glance in Seren’s direction as though she were going to shred them to pieces on her sister’s behalf.
By now, the rumor mill had whispered Arabella’s relations with Cal to every corner of Calami. The students who weren’t purely bitter, expressed their envy by flocking like wild gulls to Arabella, peppering her with questions about their mysterious love story. Seren might have been annoyed if it hadn’t worked so well to her advantage. Arabella could hardly get a breath to speak a word to her, let alone follow her around when she’d hunted for the stone.
The line in front of her moved, and Seren blinked away from her thoughts. They were announcing Hatchlings first. Cuorvo had shepherded them out into the hall to line up and wait.
Brushing her glossy raven curls back, Seren ran her hands down the dress she’d completed just in time with a swell of satisfaction and pride. Made of sheer lace, the gown was black as midnight and sleeveless with a high neck that caressed her throat almost constricting. Bound to ruffle feathers and elicit gasps, the lace was thinly netted over the valley of her breasts and on each side of her hips where it curved to hug her figure tight. So thin, in fact, that her moonlight skin could be seen beneath, an almost glaring pale white one couldn’t miss if they tried. Near her knees, the train billowed out to trail along the floor, patterned with hand-stitched outlines of hemlock, belladonna, and twining jessamine. A selection of her own choosing—her favorite poisonous flowers.
She had to admit that wearing the beautifully dark creation; she felt like a shadow-born goddess of old—both powerful and deadly, but also feminine, and more than anythingreal.Authentic. This was her truest self, something she would never deny.
