It sounded like a simple instruction. But something in his tone made it feel like a warning.
Rocco gritted his teeth and jerked his arm free. "I will."
The two of them stared at each other for a beat too long. Some silent conversation I wasn't part of.
Then Dimitri stepped back, the smirk sliding back into place like a mask. "Have fun, kids."
He climbed into the limo and pulled away, leaving us alone at the entrance.
I glanced up at Rocco. A muscle twitched in his cheek.
Why was he being so sharp with Dimitri? They'd seemed friendly enough earlier—or at least, Dimitri had been his usual annoying self. But that exchange...
Something was going on. Something Rocco wasn't telling me.
I filed it away and let him guide me toward the doors.
Two male students in Julienne’s class opened the doors for us.
Costin and Julienne stood just inside the entrance, greeting their guests with the easy grace of two people who'd had a century to perfect the art of hospitality.
Julienne looked stunning in a crimson gown that swept the floor, the color bold against her pale skin. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail—on anyone else it might have seemed understated, but on her it was effortlessly elegant. Long diamond earrings caught the light with every turn of her head, and a massive diamond pendant rested against her collarbone, glittering like captured starlight.
Beside her, Costin cut an imposing figure in a three-piece black suit, his dark hair pulled back into a knot at the base of his skull. Even in formal wear, there was something predatory about him—a stillness that reminded you this was no ordinary vampire. This was Dracula. The original. The king.
His dark eyes swept over us as we approached, and I saw the moment he registered who was on my arm.
His gaze widened. Just for a second. Then he recovered, his expression smoothing into something polite and welcoming.
But I'd seen it. The surprise.The flicker of what the hell is he doing here.
My stomach tightened. If Costin was surprised to see Rocco here, what was everyone else going to think? I could already feel the whispers gathering like storm clouds—the rejected mate, clinging to the man who’d thrown her away. I lifted my chin. Let them talk.
"Selena." Julienne smiled warmly at me, then turned to Rocco. Something shifted in her expression—curiosity, maybe, or concern. "And... Rocco. It's so good to see you."
The words were gracious. The pause before his name was not.
I felt Rocco stiffen beside me, his hand pressing harder against my lower back.
This was going to be an interesting night.
“Julienne, you look beautiful,” I said. “Happy Birthday.”
She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Thank you, dear.”
“Yes, happy Birthday. Angelo Santi was unable to attend, so he asked me to represent him,” Rocco murmured beside me. His voice was steady, but I could feel the tension moving off him in waves.
Costin’s expression shifted. The polite mask cracked—just for an instant—and something sharp and predatory flickered in those ancient eyes. He studied Rocco with new interest, like a hunter who’d just spotted movement in a treeline he thought was empty.
“Angelo sent you.” It wasn’t a question. “Interesting.”
Julienne placed a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, a silent warning. Costin’s expression smoothed back into cordial neutrality, but his gaze lingered on Rocco a beat too long.
“Well,” Costin said, his voice pleasant again. “Do give Angelo my regards. And enjoy the party.”
It sounded like a dismissal. It felt like a threat.
We moved past Costin and Julienne into the ballroom. The space was packed—every bloodline, crown, and coven in the supernatural world crammed into glittering gowns and tailored suits, champagne flutes catching the light from the massive crystal chandeliers overhead. Laughter and music and the hum of a hundred conversations filled the air.
