“Well, can you blame them?” Kenzie says, her voice barely audible over the music. “I mean, look at you.”
I peer down at the corset gown I’m wearing. The tight-fitting bodice leads into a skirt with delicate layers of red and black, lined with luxurious silk lace. Woven between the lace are soft black feathers that perfectly complement the design, and a high slit comes up to my right thigh, exposing a significant portion of leg.
“It’s the feathers, isn’t it?” I comment back.
When Galen left our dorm, I’d been so eager to try on the dress that I hadn’t stopped to contemplate what would happen if I tried to use my magic to tidy my hair and face while the dress was on. It resulted in Galen’s elegant gown becoming peppered with black feathers, and the slit getting even higher. Not to mention the plain but elegant red mask turning into a mass of feathers stuck to my face, and me frantically trying to reverse the damage. After a few tries, it became clear that I was not going to get the pristine red gown back, and it took some soul-searching to realize I didn’t even care. I mean, Professor Lankin had said our garments only had to bemostlyred, and the feathers just seemed so…me. Unfortunately, none of the other students seem to share my love of feathers, and I can see now why I’m standing out like a sore thumb.Oops.
Kenzie raises a brow and a smile teases her red lips. “I’m sure the feathers are partly to blame, or you know, it may simply be the fact you’re absolutely stunning.”
I grin, my heart still pounding as I turn back to the long table. All of the originals sit with regal expressions, their massive animali stationed behind them, and they’re dressed in rich garments that are finer than anything the students are wearing.
My guys are easy to spot, because Bonfang, Kazer, Arizak, and Rinoc are the biggest animali, and the guys are wearing their matching masks. The moment my gaze connects with theirs, the air rushes out of me at the awe on their features. Desire mixes with the appreciation there, and my heart flutters.
“You were supposed to provide her with a simple gown so she would blend in,”Thane growls under his breath, his cloaked whisper reaching my ears. Going by Galen’s smirk, I’m guessing my other mates can hear him as well.
“While I wish I could take complete credit, I have to say this beauty was a combined effort,”Galen drawls, not looking the least bit upset that I altered his dress.
“I don’t care who fuckin’ made it. Is the night over yet, because that dress…”Raith trails off and whistles low.
Knox doesn’t say anything but he’s completely rigid, and his jaw ticks as he glares at me. That’s right, heglaresas if my attendance at the ball is a personal affront to him. That only makes me straighten and pull back my shoulders a little more, because I’m not going to let him ruin tonight. This could be my last night for all I know, and I intend to enjoy it.
At that thought, I force myself to look away from them, acutely aware that they’re not the only ones staring. Queen Krosia watches me with keen interest despite her relaxed posture on her throne. She smiles like she’s pleased with what she sees, and that creeps me out, though I’m not sure why. I move on, scanning my eyes over the other originals and mentally running through some of the information the guys have told me about them over these past weeks.
Seated next to my guys at the table is Jorvik and Virelle. The pair have matching blond hair, but while Jorvik’s hair is shaved close to his tattooed scalp on the sides and has a braid down the center, Virelle’s long, straight hair is loose and flows past her slender hips. Jorvik’s pristine suit struggles to containhis broad, muscular shoulders, and Virelle’s delicate satin dress leaves hardly anything to the imagination as it hugs her body. According to Galen, the pair aren’t fated mates, but they’ve come to love each other almost as if they are, and they usually fight as a pair. Behind them, Jorvik’s polar bear and Virelle’s jackal are stationed close to one another, like the animali are as close as their bonded warriors are.
On the other side of the table sit the six other originals. Of course, Professors Lankin and Yevar I easily recognize, but there’s also Ambrose, Germain, Xera, and Ravyn. Germain is the hot-headed original I most remember from before the academy hunt and his appearance during the sky attack. He slouches on his chair, chewing exaggeratedly like the man never learned basic manners. Despite his relaxed demeanour, my guys have made it clear to stay away from him. Apparently, he has an obsession with taking trophies from many of the Xalgrith he slays, and I shudder. At his side, is a guy named Ambrose, who has curly red hair and freckles that brush over his cheeks. Despite his slight baby face, there’s a calculating look in his green eyes, and my guys have made it clear he’s not to be fucked with or underestimated, which makes sense considering he’s one of the queen’s most trusted generals.
Xera, the original next to him, has two brown braids that arch down her head, and tattoos that curl along the sides of her shoulders. Apparently, like Ambrose, she’s one of the queen’s most trusted war advisors, and Ambrose and Xera often disagree on the different strategies they should carry out.
The last original seated at the end of the table is Ravyn, a tall, slender woman with short espresso black hair that curves to the underside of her ears. Her thin lips remain clamped together, though her sharp black eyes are fixed on me. Out of all the originals, she’s one of the most skilled with knives, and whilethey’re not officially together, there’s no secret that Ravyn is often in Xera’s bed.
“Stop staring,” Kenzie hisses and nudges me lightly in the ribs with her elbow, making me blink. “That can’t be helping. We’re supposed to be blending in, remember?”
I avert my gaze, my attention going to my guys again. Raith isn’t grinning so hard now, though he still winks at me as if to say, ‘good luck, sunshine.’ Knox looks even more irritated, probably because I’ve just been standing here gawking at the originals like an idiot. Okay, so sure, they were looking at me first, but I shouldn’t have made it obvious that Iknewthey were staring.
Taking Kenzie’s advice, I let her steer me away from the center of the room and toward the tower of glasses. We both take a drink, and I down mine quickly, glad to have something to do.
“Whoa, slow down,” a familiar voice laughs, and we turn as Jensen strides from the crowd. He’s wearing a formal red tuxedo with a black shirt and complete with a tiny red bow, and I’m not sure why the bow looks so comical on his large form. “Leave some for me, ladies,” he adds with a wry grin, grabbing two glasses and draining them both.
“Now who needs to slow down.” I laugh.
He shrugs, placing the empty glasses back on the table before grabbing a third drink. “If this is our last night to relax before the games, then I might as well enjoy it.”
Someone snickers to my right, and the three of us turn to see Satine, Paiton, Izzy, Ian and Ed. Ian has his arm draped across Satine’s shoulders, and they all look at us with disdain.
Ian’s gaze travels along my bare leg, before moving up to my cleavage and going to my face, and Satine tenses. It clearly bothers her that he’s checking me out, and she pulls her shoulders back, leaning more into Ian as she clears her throat. I want to tell her that she has nothing to worry about becausestealing her man is the last thing I’d want to do, but she starts speaking before I can.
“I have to say I’m surprised, Token,” she says scornfully. “I half-expected you to turn up wearing nothing but your garbage feathers again, but it looks like your horrid outfit at least resembles a dress this time.” Lifting her nose in the air, she looks at Paiton and Izzy who laugh and snicker.
I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because the woman is just so damn predictable.
“Back off, Satine,” Kenzie bites out, not as relaxed about the insult as I am.
Satine’s lips thin, and she places her hands on her hips. “What did you just say, reject?” she hisses.
“I said, back off,” Kenzie repeats, standing her ground.
I have to say, I’m a little proud. When I’d first met Kenzie, she never would have said a thing, but now she glares at Satine, just daring her to start a fight.
