That's when I see them. All four of them scattered throughout the ballroom in their own spaces, but all of them watching me.
Knox is in the far corner, black suit that makes him look even more dangerous than usual, simple black mask that doesn't hide the pale eyes or the scars. He's not even pretending not to stare.Just standing there with his arms crossed, looking at me like I'm something he hasn't decided whether to approach or avoid.
Nico is near the refreshment table with other Dominion members, silver mask that matches his formal jacket, and when our eyes meet across the room I feel the broken bond pull tight under my ribs. He flinches slightly like he felt it too. I look away before he can try to approach.
Professor Harmon is by the windows with other faculty members, dressed in formal attire that makes him look less like a professor and more like he belongs at a Council function. His mask is dark blue, and even from here I can see the tension in his shoulders, how he's holding himself too carefully like he's fighting not to look in my direction. But I can feel his attention anyway, that awareness that's been building between us for a while now.
And Caspian is on the raised platform where some of the Dominion members are standing, wearing a black suit with a dark red mask that should make him unrecognizable but doesn't. He's Alpha enough that everyone knows exactly who he is mask or not, and he's staring at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch even across the crowded room.
Four males. All of them aware of me, watching me, fighting themselves about whether to approach or stay away.
I press my back against the wall and try to remember how to breathe. The heat makes everything worse, makes my skin too sensitive and my body too aware of their attention. I can smell the mix of perfume and cologne in the ballroom, can hear the music and the conversations and the laughter, but underneath it all I can pick out individual scents. Cedar from somewhere across the room. Pine from the corner. Something that might be Caspian, all Alpha and dominance and barely contained control.
I'm so focused on trying not to fall apart that I don't notice someone approaching until there's a hand on my lower back.
I turn and there he is. Caspian Jett, mask doing nothing to hide who he is, standing close enough that I can smell him properly now. Not just Alpha. Not just dominance. Something warmer underneath, something that calls to parts of me I don't want to acknowledge.
"Dance with me."
It's not a question. Not a request. Just a statement of what's about to happen.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I didn't ask for your opinion." His hand is still on my lower back, warm through the thin silk of the dress. "I said dance with me."
He's already leading me toward the dance floor before I can formulate a proper refusal. His hand slides from my back to my waist as we reach the other couples. His other hand catches mine, warm and large enough to make mine feel small. We fall into the rhythm of the music automatically, his body leading and mine following, because apparently I know how to waltz even though I can't remember ever learning.
We don't speak at first. Just move through the dance while everyone around us pretends not to watch even though I can feel their attention like a physical weight. Caspian holds me at a proper distance for exactly three measures before pulling me closer, close enough that it's no longer appropriate for a formal dance, close enough that I can feel the heat of him through both our clothes.
"People are watching," I say quietly.
"Let them watch."
"You're the one who's been trying to destroy me."
"I was trying to determine what you are." His voice is low enough that only I can hear it. "There's a difference."
"And what am I?"
"Mine." He says it like it surprises him as much as it surprises me.
I pull back enough to look at him properly. His jaw is tight beneath the mask, a muscle working there that wasn't there before. "I'm not anyone's."
"You're not afraid of me." It's not a question, just an observation stated like a fact.
"Should I be?"
"Yes." His hand slides lower on my back, not quite improper but close. "You should be terrified of me, Nova. I'm an Alpha who can't control himself around you, and that makes me dangerous."
My breath catches at the admission. At hearing him say out loud what we've both been avoiding. "Then let me go."
"I don't think I can." His grip tightens slightly, pulling me even closer. "Your scent. Do you have any idea what it's doing to me? What it's doing to every unmated male in this room?"
The heat makes my face flush. "I didn't ask for this."
"I know." His voice has gone rougher, his wolf closer to the surface than I've ever heard it. "Makes it worse. If you were doing this on purpose, at least I could be angry about it. But you're just existing and your body is calling to mine and I'm losing my mind trying not to answer."
The music swells around us and we move through the other couples, but I'm barely aware of anything except the feel of his hand burning through the silk of my dress, how our bodies are aligned perfectly despite the height difference, the scent of him overwhelming everything else. This isn't dancing. This is something else. This is claiming behavior dressed up as formality.
