Chapter Twenty-nine
LOR
othing could have prepared me for the splendor of the ballroom when IN step inside. It’s enormous, the ceiling soaring overhead and hanging with dozens of chandeliers dripping with crystals and golden pearls. The curved walls, covered in gold brocade silk, sweep around to encompass
hundreds of well-dressed Fae like a goddess’s embrace.
I’d thought my glittering gown was the height of extravagance, but it’s just another in a sea of hundreds of ensembles that burst with gold and jewels and riches. Everyone is dressed in their best, hair lacquered, makeup perfect, and eyes sparkling. I realize then Callias has left my ears covered so as not to
give away my lowly mortal status.
I glance around the room, wondering if any of the other Tributes have already arrived. My balance is a little off-kilter, and I cautiously place one
foot in front of the other, approaching the golden railing that circles the edge of the room. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.
Short, wide staircases spaced at even intervals lead down to the sunken dance floor. A small orchestra sits in the corner and couples spin to the notes of music like autumn leaves twirling in a gust of wind. The atmosphere is lively and energetic, the guests all brimming with smiles. I swallow down my
apprehension. How did I end up here? How has this become my life?
“May I have this dance?” a deep male voice asks, and I turn to find a towering Fae looking down at me. He wears a fitted golden jacket embossed with flowers. A mask covers his face, much like mine, but without the feather or adornments. His copper-brown hair glows so bright it’s like it’s been highlighted with ribbons of fire.
“Atlas,” I say, looking around and wondering if someone is playing a prank. He lifts a finger to his mouth and makes a shh sound.
“I am just an anonymous reveler at a masquerade, my lady.” He bends at the waist, his mouth turning up into a half smile. I huff out a laugh. Even with a mask on, there can be no mistaking who this Fae is. His pull is undeniable.
Eyes follow him everywhere he goes, trapping us under his spell.
He holds out his hand, and I arch an eyebrow and curtsy before I place my hand in his. I remember how scared I’d been to do this when I first met Gabriel all those weeks ago. Perhaps Madame Odell’s lectures were of some use. “Very well. I would be honored.”
He grins and leads me down the steps to the dance floor covered in pale yellow marble veined with gold.
“I’ve never done this before outside of my lessons,” I whisper, knowing
his superior Fae ears can pick up on my words.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” His hand slides along the small of my back
and he pulls me close so I’m pressed right up against him. No chaste distances between us here. He takes my other hand, holding it in his large palm, and begins to lead us into the dance.
“You look stunning,” Atlas says, his voice low as he leans to speak directly in my ear. “Perhaps after the party, you’ll come visit me?”
I press my lips together, looking up into his bright blue eyes. I should
refuse. I think of what Callias told me regarding Apricia. Is Atlas playing us both against each other? Does any of it matter if the Sun Mirror has the final say? He’d said the Mirror considers his preference. I remind myself I’m here to win this contest. That I have everything riding on it. I can’t rescue Tristan and Willow if I don’t win, and I certainly can’t get my revenge on the Aurora King without the resources of a queen. Apricia may want to win so she can live in a palace and hang off the arm of this beautiful Fae, but for me, this is a matter of life and death and so much more. Surely mine is the more noble cause.
I’ve used my body as a weapon and as currency for twelve long years with the worst types of men I’ve ever known. Why should I stop now, when the
stakes have never been higher? Besides, Atlas has only made me feel good and beautiful and wanted. There’s no reason for me to resist. No reason for me to hold back, especially if it gives me an edge.
I’ve already decided I don’t care if Atlas has been helping me. I don’t need to win this “fairly.” Nothing in my life has been fair.
He’s watching me expectantly, as though he really thinks I might say no to his request. Finally, I nod. “I’d like that.”
His smile is radiant as he spins me around the room. My interest wanders
to the raised dais at the far end, where a long table draped in golden cloth sits in front of nine magnificent chairs. In the center is a large golden throne that I
assume is meant for the Fae I’m dancing with.
To one side sits a slightly smaller black throne, the back upholstered in emerald velvet. Next to that are two wooden chairs covered in curling vines where two Fae with deep olive skin sit. The first is a male with long, flowing brown hair wearing an elegant green tunic. Next to him is a stunning female, also with long brown hair in an intricate dress of sage green. They both sport
a pair of leathery brown wings tucked behind their backs.
“The King and Queen of The Woodlands,” Atlas says, catching my stare.
“Cedar and Elswyth. Cedar and I have been friends for centuries. He’s a good Fae, despite the rest of his family.” I wonder at the bitterness in his voice and watch as Cedar whispers something to his bonded partner before she smiles.
Love beams in her eyes like heart-shaped rainbows when she looks at him, and something tugs in my chest.
“Was she chosen the same way? Through a trial?”
“Sort of,” Atlas says, spinning me across the floor. “Every realm has their own version of the Imperial Fae ascension.”
“Will you tell me about them?” I ask, looking back at the couple who seem
to be so in love that everything around them has ceased to exist.
“Of course,” Atlas says. “You’ll need to know these things if you find yourself ruling Aphelion.” I look up at him and he smiles.
“Who are the rest?”
Next to The Woodlands King and Queen is a translucent blue throne made
of what looks like glass. A beautiful male lounges in his seat, his posture loose and casual as he sips his wine and surveys the room. His skin is so pale it’s almost blue. It complements the fall of indigo hair that hangs so long it
disappears behind the height of the table. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and deep blue eyes only add to his appeal.
“The Alluvion King,” Atlas says. “Rulers of the ocean. Cyan is an arrogant bastard, but his heart is in the right place. He’s yet to find his bonded, though he’s been searching for a long time.”
On the other side of the Sun King’s seat is a pair of stone thrones with two more Fae. They’re two of the most beautiful females I’ve ever seen, with olive-brown skin and long silver hair. They, too, have wings, these ones
covered in shimmering grey feathers. “Those are the Queens of Tor. Bronte and Yael. While they aren’t our allies, Aphelion and Tor have had their moments of cooperation.”
Another throne is made of some kind of silvery material that almost looks like liquid. Upon it sits a female with skin as pale as alabaster, her hair a sheet of pure white. Black eyes look out over the crowd with cunning curiosity. “D’Arcy, the queen of Celestria,” Atlas says, his eyes going dark.
“The coldest witch in all of Aphelion.”
I watch the ethereal beings at the front of the room as they engage occasionally in polite conversation. Mostly they just looked bored, save for The Woodlands King and Queen, who can’t stop touching each other.
“Shouldn’t you be up there entertaining them?” I ask, and Atlas grins.
“They’ll be fine for one dance.”
Another song has started, but Atlas doesn’t let go and it’s then I get the courage to ask. “Where is the Aurora Prince?”
Atlas shakes his head. “Late, I suppose. Typical of The Aurora. They
respect no one and nothing but their own authority. The prince is vicious and cruel.”
“Just like his father,” I whisper, unable to stop the words from slipping out.
Atlas’s shoulders drop and concern reflects in his eyes. “Yes. Just like his father.” He scans the room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he won’t even come.
I only invited The Aurora out of diplomacy. I’d rather they kept as far away from my court as possible.”
Words caught in my throat, I nod. The champagne I consumed earlier has made me light-headed. I probably should have listened to Callias.
“Who sits at the end?” I ask, looking at the final seat. It’s a small black throne with a single red jewel embedded into the high back.
“It’s the honorary space we keep for the Heart Queen.”
My gaze whips to Atlas. “What? I thought the last Heart Queen died centuries ago?”
“And left no heir,” he adds, an odd pitch in the tone of his voice, like they're words he doesn’t really believe. “Yes. But Heart was once the most powerful realm in Ouranos. It only seems fitting to keep a place in their honor. Who knows, perhaps the Heart Crown will be found someday and a new queen will ascend.”
Atlas fixes me with a piercing look, his arm cinching me tighter.
My head swims and I close my eyes, reaching for the locket around my neck before gripping it tight.
Through the holes in his mask, I notice his eyes drop to my mouth.
Dipping his head, his lips brush against the shell of my ear. “I want you again, Lor. I can’t stop thinking about you or our dinner on the beach.”
My skin wrenches tight and heat drips from my stomach to the place between my thighs.
“I’ve thought about it too,” I admit. “Quite a lot.” He lets out a low chuckle that I feel in my bones.
“Try to find your trinket quickly,” he says, chucking me under the chin.
“For me?”
I nod. “Of course.” I would agree to anything when he looks at me like
that.
The song ends and much to my disappointment, he lets go and then offers me a quick bow. “As much as I’d love to dance with you all evening, I should, as you say, go entertain my guests.” He kisses the back of my hand.
“Until later.”
With that, he spins on his heel and walks away as I’m left to contemplate
everything he just explained. I scan the kings and queens again, watching each one in turn. I stare at the empty seat meant for the Aurora Prince, wishing I could have seen his face. If I can’t have the king for my vengeance, perhaps I can have the prince.
Checking the large clock suspended at the end of the high room, I realize it’s been almost an hour since the ball commenced. I need to find Gabriel.
Circling through the guests, I catch sight of Halo, who waves at me from across the crowd. I spy Apricia hanging off the neck of a Fae male, flipping her hair, and I wonder how Atlas feels about that, or if he’s noticed. Tesni doesn’t seem to be anywhere, and I hope she’s okay. While this challenge feels less perilous than the others, I know better than to let down my guard.
Some of the other warders loiter along the edge of the dance floor, all dressed in gold, like a battalion of angelic warriors. No Gabriel, though.
Getting annoyed now, I keep searching, wondering if sabotage is how he plans to get rid of me once and for all. Did he disappear with my clue? A row of high arches lines one wall of the ballroom, and I duck under one to enter a
long hallway lined with smaller chambers.
People fill these too, seated on the plush couches as they drink and chat. I check each of them, trying to spot Gabriel’s head of dark blond hair and
snowy white wings, all while keeping an eye on the clock. The hour is almost up and if I don’t find him in time, it will impede my chances of persuading
my target before the others. I’m going to kill him.
At the end of the hall is another room, the door partially adjacent. I open it and duck my head inside. There are no lights, only a window where a beam of moonlight slices through the darkness. I hear a deep moan and feel my cheeks flush, realizing that I seem to have come upon a tryst. But a moment later, my eyes adjust to the dimness, and I see a winged man wearing a gold
jacket kneeling in front of a settee, his dark blond hair hanging down, covering the side of his face.
Gabriel. That jackass. He’s supposed to be helping me, not doing…this.
Frozen to the spot, I watch. A male figure sits on the settee, his long legs stretched out and his head thrown back. I can’t make out any other details with the moonlight illuminating only the back of Gabriel’s head as it moves up and down. There is another deep masculine moan, and I can’t tell who is its rather satisfied owner.
Mesmerized by the sound, I can’t seem to tear myself away. I should make my presence known. Or I should leave. But I need my clue from Gabriel.
“What do you want, Lor?” Gabriel says in a bored voice, startling me so
much I jump nearly a mile. My heart pounding, I press a hand to my chest.
“I was looking for you.” My voice is breathless and high, and I’m not sure why I feel like I should be the one who’s embarrassed.
Gabriel pelts me with an irritated glance. His body and wings are blocking most of his companion. The man in question lifts his head, but I can’t make
out his features, only the glint of his eyes in the darkness. He drops his head back as though he’ll wait there patiently for Gabriel to finish him.
“And you found me. Well done.”
Fuck this. He knows why I need him.
“I need my clue. It’s time.”
“I still have two more minutes. Get out.” His grin turns feral. “I’ll be done here in a moment.”
My mouth opens and closes, unable to believe this.
“Get. Out,” he snarls.
Absolutely mortified, I don’t wait for him to tell me again. He doesn’t seem to care at all that I’ve just caught him sucking on another male’s cock in
the middle of a party with hundreds of people milling about.
“Fine,” I say and leave the room, slamming the door behind me. I’m about to storm away when I realize I can’t. I still need him.
Furious, I lean right up against the door, sure to make a loud enough thud that he knows I’m there. Folding my arms in anger, I mutter under my breath about asshole Fae and their primitive needs.
