Instead of answering, I spin her, and she follows my lead perfectly, like we've danced together a thousand times before. When I pull her back, she's closer than before, her breasts nearly brushing my chest.
"Does it matter?" I ask. "Right now, in this moment, does it matter who I am?"
"Yes," she breathes. But her body says otherwise. Her free hand has moved from my shoulder to the nape of my neck, fingers barely touching but burning nonetheless.
We move together in silence for a moment, and I can feel her trembling. Not with fear—with desire. With the same desperate need that's been consuming me for years.
"You're him," she says suddenly, her eyes widening. "Aren't you? You're—"
I spin her again, and when she comes back, I dip her low. Her hair falls like a curtain of fire, and I lean down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"Do you want me to be?" I whisper, my breath hot against her skin.
I feel her shudder, feel the way her fingers dig into my shoulder. When I pull her upright, her face is flushed, her lips parted.
"I don't understand what's happening," she admits, her voice shaking.
"Yes, you do." I pull her flush against me now, propriety be damned. Let her feel what she does to me. Let her understand the power she has. "Your body knows, even if your mind is still catching up."
She gasps softly, and I feel her hips shift almost imperceptibly against me. The want in her eyes is unmistakable now.
"This is crazy," she whispers.
"Is it?" My hand slides lower on her back, just above the curve of her ass. "Or is this the first real thing you've felt in years?"
The song is ending. Our time is running out. And I'm not ready to let her go.
I lean in again, my lips grazing her ear, and whisper the words I've been holding back: "I see you, Eve. All of you. Every beautiful, broken, brilliant piece. And soon, you'll stop running from what we both know is inevitable."
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes searching my face desperately. Trying to see past the mask, trying to understand who I am and why my words feel like truth.
"How do you know my name?" she asks. "Who are you?"
The music stops. The moment shatters like glass.
I release her slowly, my fingers trailing down her arm before letting go completely. "You already know the answer to that question. You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet."
I step back, and the crowd immediately fills the space between us. She reaches for me, but I'm already moving away, disappearing into the sea of masked faces.
"Wait!" I hear her call, but I don't turn back.
Not yet. Not here.
But as I make my way toward the exit, I glance back once and see her standing there, one hand pressed to her chest, her eyes still searching the crowd for me.
The hook is set. The queen has felt the pull of her king.
And nothing will ever be the same.
I slip out into the night, my heart racing, my body still humming with the sensation of holding her. The phantom warmth of her hand in mine. The soft press of her body against me. The way she trembled when I whispered in her ear.
Soon, my Eve. Very soon, you'll understand that this dance we just shared was only the beginning.
The real claiming comes next.
Chapter 5 - Eve
The coffee shop is crowded with the morning rush, all desperate caffeine seekers and the hiss of the espresso machine. I'm waiting for my order, still thinking about the masked ball last night—about those dark green eyes that seem to have burned themselves into my memory—when I feel him before I see him. A presence at my shoulder that makes my skin prickle, but not in the electric way it did with the stranger.
