She looked both stunning and fragile, and the combination made him feel both protective and licentious.
He hadn’t told Aaron or Sophia about her being sick because she’d asked him not to, but he really needed Sophia’s input on how best to put weight back onto her daughter.
The conversation would be uncomfortable at best, and possibly quite unpleasant, but Emerald’s health had to be his primary focus.
His boy’s tuxedo was a deep charcoal, tailored to perfection, and the fabric caught the light like brushed steel. It would be exquisite with the aurora above the dome. The vest was a much lighter grey, patterned with looping charcoal swirls that looked like a manic five-year-old had gone at it with a fountain pen, but it worked. At his neck was something between tie and cravat, a medium grey, pulled up a little to give it some width and let the soft silk rumple. On Spencer, it looked effortless, elegant, and far beyond sexy.
As Abbott, Zander’s tux would’ve been classic and boring, but tonight his designer had put him in dangerous elegance. Black trousers with a subtle sheen, a light-charcoal vest that fit like sin, crisp white shirt, and a black silk bow tie. The jacket, however, stole the show — shiny black silk embroidered with matte black scrollwork, cut like avampire’s coat with flowing tails. Classic and rich, but with a twist.
And he was assured that, once they hit the ballroom, the high sheen of the silk would reflect the color of the aurora shimmering and moving above.
“The two of you are lovely,” Zander said. “I just need a few minutes to change clothes, and we can all go up together.”
“Toby said what I saw of the aurora an hour ago wasn’t going to be the peak,” Spencer said. “I can’t wait to see how it’s changed.”
“He told me we might even get some other colors in and around the usual blues and greens,” Emerald said. “I’m jealous the two of you have already seen it.”
“I haven’t, actually,” Zander told her. “I’ve been stuck in Lucien’s office, working at his conference table, helping deal with security logistics. Spencer, please put one of thehands-offtattoos on our little dragon.”
Because no one was going to fuck her or feed from her on this night. She wasn’t anywhere near strong enough for that, yet.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the three entered together, Emerald and Spencer flanking him, and he wrapped an arm around both waists while he stood and looked around the nearly-full ballroom, which had been transformed for the event.
Beaten-copper bowls sunk into tables around the perimeter glowed with banked coals — hours of careful firemanagement yielding steady warmth without flame. Red rope lighting traced the curved walls at ankle height, supplemented by subtle amber accents that kept the space navigable without drowning out the real spectacle overhead.
The aurora.
Zander had seen thousands of displays in his long life, but this one commanded attention. Ribbons of green fire rippled across the dome, shot through with veins of pink and violet. The colors moved like living things, pulsing and swirling in rhythm with the solar wind. Every shifter, vampire, and human in the room kept stealing glances upward, mesmerized.
The polished floor radiated gentle heat beneath his feet, another carefully orchestrated detail. His guests would be comfortable despite the ballroom’s temperature hovering around seventy degrees warmer than the frigid outside air, bringing it to not quite fifty degrees.
Vampires don’t feel the cold, and shifters can handle far colder, but comfort mattered for an event like this. The floor was heated, as were the benches. One area of the ballroom had some blown heat, and that would be where the few humans would likely congregate.
And with Zander’s arrival, the low background filler music faded, and the energetic dance music started. Traditionally, the first song of the Aurora Balls isWalking on Sunshine, and the driving rhythm pulsed through the ballroom with an infectious energy that made it impossibleto stand still. The tempo was relentless, celebratory, and the kind of beat that demanded movement.
Emerald’s face lit up, and she pulled the three of them to the dance floor.
Zander danced with them, though admittedly a lot more conservatively than Emerald and Spencer.
Parts of Emerald’s social group moved closer, and she turned to Felix, who grinned and matched her energy, the two feeding off each other’s joy, their bodies in synch, hips swaying, arms lifting.
Zander moved to the edge and accepted a glass of wine from a passing server.
Emerald danced with wild joy. Not the careful, controlled movements of someone recovering from near-death, or the tentative steps of someone conserving her strength. She threw herself into it with abandon — spinning, laughing, her skirt flaring with each turn.
The iridescent fabric caught the aurora light and seemed to glow as an extension of her joy.
She should be resting, or at the very least taking it easy, but Emerald Drake was a fucking genius, so he had to trust she knew what her body could handle, and that she’d manage her strength so she could enjoy the full ball.
And if she didn’t, he’d have a trusted security guard take her downstairs and then stay on sentry duty outside the suite.
Spencer danced with the flock, with other vampires, and then he was back with the flock again.
One song transitioned seamlessly into another upbeat track, and Emerald switched to dance with Rhea, the eagle shifter matching her energy with fierce, competitive joy. They faced off, and what started as dancing became a playful challenge. Rhea threw in a complicated footwork pattern; Emerald copied it and then countered with a spin and a drop. Back and forth, neither backing down.
The gathered crowd cheered. Someone called out encouragement. Rhea laughed and conceded with an exaggerated bow, and Emerald pulled her into a hug before they both dissolved into giggles.
Spencer appeared beside him, his dark hair gleaming in the low light.She’s really wonderful, isn’t she?
