Chapter 33

33

T hat odd moment is quickly forgotten as we continue with my training for the remainder of the week while also planning for our presence at the masquerade ball.

"I have managed to find the list of attendees," Nyk says as I take a break from my training. "I have already taken care of some inconsequential ones, and we will go to the ball in their stead."

"Are you sure we will not get caught?" I frown.

He smiles.

"I have everything planned out, Barbs. We will be in and out. I only need to gather some information on my family's state of affairs to know where to strike next."

"Oh. So there won't be any confrontation at the ball?"

"No. This is just reconnaissance. Once I have the necessary information, we can make our exit, and we can focus on your descent into the lake. Although you have opened the fourth gate, I want to personally test you to make sure you are ready," he adds.

"Okay. You know best."

He seems pleased with my words.

"Come. Let me show you what I got us for the masquerade."

He leads me upstairs to our room. On the bed, a large pink box awaits me, with a smaller white one next to it.

Giddiness erupts inside of me as I hurry forward.

Nykander leans against the doorframe, watching me with satisfaction in his eyes.

I all but rip the cover of the first box, my breath leaving my lungs as I stare at the most gorgeous dusty shade of pink I've ever seen. Taking out the dress from the box, I lay it over the bed, marveling at the rich details and the flattering silhouette.

"Wow, Nyk! I have no words. Where did you get this? It's absolutely gorgeous!"

"I knew you'd like it," he mentions as he comes in. "Put it on. I want to see you in it."

I quickly kick off my training gear and put the dress on. Nyk helps me tie the corset at the back and snap all the buttons in place.

The dress is a regency-style one with a high empire waist and a flowing silky skirt made out of multiple layers of the softest material I've ever felt. The bodice has embroidery all over the chest area, depicting a bucolic hunting scene in different shades of pink. But what's even more impressive is the fact that there are three small dogs embroidered on it— our dogs.

"You had this custom made, didn't you?"

He smiles, and that's confirmation enough.

The next box contains the shoes. They are a satin pink with a three-inch heel and a similar embroidery on the front of the shoe. I put them on and immediately I feel like a princess who's just stepped into a real-life fairy tale.

"This is wonderful, Nyk. Absolutely wonderful! Thank you so much. It's the best gift someone's ever given me!" I tell him as I twirl around the room, letting my happiness spill forward.

"There is something more," he adds.

Moving to the bed, I realize there is one more small box. Opening it, he removes a black and pink lace mask from within. He places it over my face and moves behind me to tie it off at the back of my head.

"You are beautiful, Barbs," he murmurs, leaning in to lay a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

That night, I go to sleep filled with happiness and hope.

Although that incident last week had left a sour taste in my mouth, Nyk had more than made it up to me. He's been thoughtful and attentive, and the amount of detail he'd put into this dress alone speaks of the fact that he knows me.

He knows and loves me.

A dreamy sigh escapes me as I succumb to sleep. And despite my initial reservations, I am ready for the masquerade.

The following day, we spend hours getting ready and going over every potential thing that might go wrong.

Nyk gives me a quick lesson on some of the most important guests I should avoid and a short overview of the Jubal palace and the main area where the party will be conducted.

I do my makeup and put the dress and mask on while Nykander puts on a dashing velvet red suit accompanied by a similar mask that covers two thirds of his face.

"Shall we?" he asks as he takes my arm.

"Is it bad that I'm a bit excited about it? Especially since it's a masquerade. How fun is that!" I gush.

He smiles and shakes his head.

Leading me out of the lighthouse, I'm surprised to see a carriage with flying horses waiting for us out front.

Nyk opens the door for me to climb and then joins me.

It doesn't take long for us to reach Jubal palace. We land a small distance away, and the horses continue on a canter forward.

There is a long line of carriages leading up to the palace gates.

Due to the number of guests, the line moves slowly, during which time Nykander reminds me once more of the protocol at the party.

"Try to speak as little as possible," he advises. "You might speak the same language, but there are certain tells that will give you away. Do not engage with other males. While I am gone, stick to a corner and pretend to eat or drink something."

"My, but you should have given me a list. This is too much for my feeble brain," I add playfully.

"Barbi," he adds in a warning tone. "I am serious. This is a very important event and we cannot be found out. I am not ready for Tartareia to know I have returned."

"All right, all right. I will behave."

He grunts.

Our carriage moves forward, finally stopping at the palace gates for the guards to check our identities.

Nykander places his arm over me.

"Lord and Lady Garos," he states.

The guards stare at us intently for moments on end before they nod, ticking off the names on their list.

"What just happened?" I ask on a whisper.

"Let's just say our aura matched that of Lord and Lady Garos," he adds in a tight voice.

Before I can question how that is possible, we've made it past the palace gates. Immediately, I feel a shift within me and I lose all contact with my source of energy.

Suddenly, I feel…bereft.

A gasp escapes me, but Nyk grabs my hand and squeezes it—a sign he needs me to keep quiet.

I've only had my abilities for a while, but the sudden absence cuts me to my core.

"You will get used to it," Nyk whispers. "It is always harder the first time."

"But—"

"We have arrived," he states as the carriage comes to a halt.

He helps me out and leads me toward the sumptuous entrance of the palace. Gilded marble shadowed by a blood-red sky. Despite my first impression of a fairy tale, it is quite clear I am in hell.

As we step through the arched entrance, we go down a long corridor that is decorated with skulls, bones, and other artifacts. There is a line of people ahead of us, and they all stop to admire the objects on display.

"What are those?"

"Dead Aperite Supremes," Nykander mentions. "Each House proudly displays their spoils of war, and the House of Jubal has one of the most impressive collections of Supreme memorabilia."

My mouth drops open in shock.

We walk slowly, following the rest of the guests, but I can't help the way my gaze is drawn to the barbaric display. Especially now knowing that those are my people. Are any relatives of mine there too? People that my mother would have known? A feeling of disgust settles in my stomach—and we haven't even reached the ballroom.

All the other guests are wearing masks concealing most of their features. But there seems to be an unspoken rule that everyone knows everyone by the way they interact with each other. It makes me wary about our ruse being discovered before Nyk gets the information he needs.

"Chin up, Barbi. You cannot let them know you are afraid," Nyk murmurs in my ear.

I gulp down in uncertainty, but I nod my assent, doing as he says.

After a long meandering through the hallway full of war spoils, we finally reach the main ballroom. My mouth drops open in shock. The ceiling must be twenty feet tall. The walls are painted a dark red, which is complemented by gilded accessories. Six huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their brilliance enveloping the entire room in a bright light.

The floor is a hard wood accompanied by the occasional blood red carpet.

On all sides of the ballroom, there are tables with food and drink, but there are no seating arrangements, suggesting this is a standing event not a sitting one.

The ballroom quickly fills up. By my estimations, there must be a couple hundred people in here.

With everyone busy greeting each other, Nykander leads me in the back to one of the refreshment tables. Handing me a glass, he pretends to make conversation while he surreptitiously studies his surroundings.

"Do you see your family?" I whisper.

He shakes his head. "Not yet. I assume they will arrive later since they are from the bride's side."

I nod. "Do you know anyone else here?"

His lips curve up. "I know everyone here. Which is why I cannot be seen or recognized."

"Even with the mask…?"

"I will not take any chances," he mutters, not looking at me. "Stay here. Nurse your drink. Grab a bite to eat. But most importantly, do not talk to people. I will be back shortly. Is that clear?"

"You are already leaving?" My eyes widen.

"I need to finish this fast," he mentions as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek. "I will come back for you here, so do not wander too much."

With that, he turns his back to me and leaves. I follow his retreating figure until I lose him amid the sea of guests.

A shudder of discomfort goes down my back.

I knew what to expect, but I did not anticipate I would feel so out of place.

Taking his advice, I turn to the table and study the offerings. I grab a plate and fill it with some food that looks remotely familiar—meat, eggs, and a few snacks—after which I grab a glass of wine.

"Pelopia is so lucky that Armand wants to marry her," a voice speaks. A group of girls gathers close to the refreshments table and fills their plates with food.

"Right? I cannot believe he will overlook her widow status. It's positively scandalous."

"Why do you think that is, Mia?" Another girl rolls her eyes. "He wants the v'Kyró connection. He is playing the long game. He knows the thantor will return and he wants to make sure he's on the right side when he does."

"It's been too long. Do you really think he is going to return? We've all been stuck here for thousands of years."

"The Council is close to finding a way out. Have you forgotten about Elias and the Chalice? He's on our side now. It won't be long before the realm's doors will open for good. Rumor has it that the Chalice is here , at the palace."

"I don't know. Even with the Chalice, the Sons of Tenebreis that can go outside can only do so for a limited amount of time before they're yanked back by the seal. I doubt the thantor can do anything."

"We shall see," the girl huffs.

I'm not entirely sure what their conversation is about, but before they can spot me and God forbid, ask me who I am, I quickly sneak away with my food. Nyk said I should stick by the refreshments table, but surely he won't mind if I go onto the balcony. After all, I'll draw far less attention there than in the ballroom. If he wanted me not to stand out, maybe he shouldn't have gotten me such a pretty ensemble. Not that everyone else isn't beautifully dressed. But my pink dress is one of a kind if I do say so myself.

Smiling to myself, I head out the double doors that lead onto a small balcony.

A light breeze brushes against my cheek and I take a deep breath. This feels nice.

There is a table and two chairs a little farther inside the balcony, and I take a seat, placing my food and drink on the table.

I eat slowly.

Music blares from inside the ballroom, and the party begins in full swing.

I sip my wine. It's quite nice. It has a sweet, cherry undertone to it. I take another sip.

Minutes pass, and boredom ensues.

But right as I'm about to get up and go back to the refreshments table in case Nyk is searching for me, a woman plops herself in the other seat. She releases a loud sigh and downs the remainder liquid from her glass.

I stare at her. I should leave…

I stand up and slowly step away, but her hand reaches out and she pulls on my skirt, stopping me.

"You do not have to leave," she slurs. "It is my fault I intruded," she murmurs. Her eyes are unfocused, her body slumped over the table as if she can barely stop herself from falling asleep.

With the protective runes in place, I assume that people are more susceptible to getting drunk and sick. And despite knowing I shouldn't interact with anyone, I can't leave her like this.

"Are you all right?" I ask as I pat her back. "Do you want me to call someone?"

She releases a laugh that turns into a snort.

"My future husband. But he will not care much. There is also my mother. But she would get mad at me for ruining the party, so please no." She wrinkles her nose, her expression pensive. "There is also my brother. But he is currently negotiating a business deal with an important guest… I forgot his name." She burps. "Oops, I'm sorry." She giggles.

"It's all right." I smile.

"There is my other brother too." She frowns. "He would have cared. But he is not here. He is loooong gone."

"I'm sorry," I murmur.

"Oh, he is not dead, though sometimes I wish he were," she continues.

I frown. That does not make much sense, does it?

"You're probably wondering who this crazy lady is." She laughs. "Trust me, I wonder about that all the time too."

With her free hand, she wrenches her mask away, regarding me expectantly as if waiting for me to recognize her.

Shit!

I mask my features and plaster a polite smile on my face.

"I know what you're thinking. Why would the bride-to-be get so drunk at her own engagement party?"

"I'm sure it's none of my business…"

"I hate him. That wretched Armand. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. Did I say I hate him? Because I do. He is a wimp and a half, and I'd rather die than marry him. But I don't even have the luxury of dying," she grits out, smashing her glass to the ground.

"Erm…"

Okay, so this is Nyk's sister. They don't look alike at all. She's a petite blonde with blue eyes while he's a giant and a half.

"If only Nykander were here." She sighs. "He would put an end to this farce."

"I'm sorry," I whisper again, not knowing what else to say to comfort her.

"He would have probably killed that wimpy Armand for even daring to look at me," she continues. "But then again, it's been a lifetime since I've seen him. I doubt he would even recognize me now."

"Maybe I should leave." I smile. "And you can have a moment to yourself away from the party."

"I always thought I would have what he and Mo did," she slurs out as she rests her head on the table. "He never looked at another. Even to my young eyes that was impressive. That dolt Armand has eleven mistresses. Eleven! When does he even have the time to be with them? It's outrageous! Damn it! I hope his dick falls off," she murmurs sleepily.

A moment later, her snores echo in my ears.

My lips purse.

Why do I have to be reminded of that goddamn Mo at every turn?

"Ugh," I grit aloud as I stomp out of the balcony and back to the ballroom.

Making my way back to the refreshments table, I spot Nykander looking frantically for me. His eyes widen when he spots me, and without a word, he grabs my arm and leads me toward the exit.

"What's going on?" I frown.

"We need to leave. Now."

"But—"

"Later, Barbi. It is imperative we leave now ."

I go along with him. As we reach the hallway with the spoils of war, he stops in front of one of the skulls. Reaching behind it, he presses a button that opens a small doorway. He drags me inside and closes the door.

Loud footsteps echo outside the moment we're inside.

"Come," he says, pulling me farther down the small corridor. It's almost pitch-black, but he appears to know where we're going.

We walk for what feels like forever before we come to a wall. He pushes me behind him as he throws his entire body weight against the wall until it gives way. And when it does, we're outside, far away from the city or the palace.

"Hold on to me. I'll teleport us back to the lighthouse."

He doesn't give me time to speak as he wraps me in his arms. The next time I open my eyes, we're back in our room.

He releases a harsh breath as he throws his mask to the bed and drags his fingers through his hair.

"What happened?"

"I must have triggered an alarm or something," he says, muttering a string of curses under his breath. "But it is all right now. We made it out and they don't know it was me who triggered the alarm."

There's something odd about him.

He seems on edge. Tense.

"I met your sister," I mention, though it doesn't seem to be the right thing to say.

He narrows his eyes at me.

"I told you not to talk to anyone."

" She talked to me." I shrug. "She was drunk and sad because she hates her fiancé."

"Doesn't surprise me. He is a fucking loser."

"That's what she said, too." I giggle.

"What else did she say?" he asks, staring at me intently.

"She mentioned you, actually," I start. He freezes, and a twitch appears in his cheek.

"Is that so?" he asks slowly.

"She said she wanted what you and Mo had. That you were so devoted to her you never looked at another woman."

His shoulders relax.

"Barbs. We have talked about this before. Mo was in the past. You are my present."

"Is it going to be like this every time, then? When I meet someone from your past, are they all going to mention how much you loved Mo? How good you were together?"

"Barbs…"

"It's always Mo this, Mo that. How can I compete with a ghost, Nyk?"

"You are blowing this out of proportion. I assured you she would not come between us."

"You did. But sometimes I can't help but wonder. You said you will always love her, and I can accept that, but… Do you love her more than me?"

"Barbs, please." He takes a step back.

"Please tell me," I beg. "I want to hear it from your lips."

He presses his lips together.

"No," he speaks slowly. "I do not love her more than you. Does that answer your question?"

I stare at him.

Slowly, I nod.

"Good. Now come here," he murmurs, spreading his arms open.

I run into his embrace, letting the warmth from his body soak into my own.

"No more doubts, Barbs. Promise me," he whispers against my hair.

"No more doubts. I just… I want to be the only one you love."

"You are the only female in my life, sweet thing," he says gently, seeking my lips with his own.

I wrap my arms around his neck and let him lead me to the bed, slowly lowering me onto the mattress and blanketing my body with his.

"Be mine, Barbi," he murmurs huskily as he peppers kisses all over my face. "I need you, sweetheart. I need to feel you, own you, sink myself into you until you crave me as much as I crave you."

I swallow hard, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

"Nyk…"

"Please say yes, sweet thing," he continues, raising himself slightly to look into my eyes.

His irises swirl into a mercury silver shade as he regards me.

"Tell me you are ready for me. Tell me you want me as much as I want you; that you yearn for my touch as much as I yearn for yours," he whispers softly.

I bite my lip as I give him a slight nod.

"I do. I want you. I do, but?—"

"No buts," he cuts me off. "It's just us. Me and you, Barbs. Me and you against the world. And I need you more than I need my next breath."

I bring my hand to his cheek and he leans into my touch, closing his eyes and releasing a deep breath.

"You love me, do you not?" He asks as he presses a kiss to the center of my palm.

I nod.

"I love you more than anything," I confirm.

His lips curl up.

"Show me. Show me how much you love me, Barbs. Let your body be the medium through which you show me what words fail to," he murmurs.

My lashes flutter, simulating the way the butterflies in my stomach flap their wings at his sweet words.

"I am on fire for you, sweet thing. Feel this," he says as he takes my hand and presses it against his chest. The beat of his heart reverberates against my palm, and as he slides my hand upward, I feel the searing pulsation of our bonding mark.

If we do this… If we give in to this insane compulsion, the bonding mark will become a mating one.

We will be mated.

For all eternity.

Suddenly, I feel ready.

For him. For us. For the life that awaits us—together.

"Do you feel it, Barbs? Do you feel what you do to me?"

Before I can answer, he slides my hand lower, over the hard planes of his chest. He doesn't stop. My fingers graze his belt before he places my open palm over the hardness pushing against the fabric of his trousers.

My breath hitches.

"This is how much I need you," he rasps. "I need to fuck you. Claim you. Mark you. I need to own your body just like I know I own your soul."

My pulse speeds up with every word he utters.

Heat pools low in my belly, desire unlike I have ever experienced poking its head through the surface and drowning me in a sea of emotions. It's overwhelming. It's absolutely breathtaking. As breathtaking as his dark gaze is as it engulfs me into its depths.

I wet my lips.

"I don't want you to fuck me," I start. His eyes widen and his body tenses. "Not now."

His gaze darkens as he braces himself for my refusal.

I smile. "I want you to make love to me, Nyk. You can fuck me later all you want. Now I just want to feel you."

An odd look crosses his face before his lips slowly curve up.

"Ah, sweetheart. I will make love to you until you melt in my arms. That is a promise," he says with a wicked smile.

Pulling back, he undoes the buttons of his shirt, throwing it to the floor.

I greedily take him in. His skin glows in the dim lighting offered to us by the twin moons. His muscles bulge and flex with every movement, emphasizing his strong built and filling me with a sense of safety. In his arms, I am at home. Safe. Protected.

I trail my fingers over the ridges of his abdominals, feeling him strain against my touch.

He's a wonderful male specimen. So beautiful, sometimes it hurts to look at him.

And he's all mine.

The fates decreed he would be mine, and now, in this moment, he will irrevocably become mine.

"Let me see you," he rasps. With expert fingers, he gently undoes the opening of my dress, sliding it down my body until I'm left only in my underthings.

I get the momentary urge to cover myself, but I fight against it.

It's him. Nykander. My love. My mate. There is nothing to fear when I am in his care—nothing at all.

He presses his hand against my throat in a possessive grip before he trails his fingers down my body, slowly caressing me. Before I know it, he takes my bra off and throws it to the floor. I arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward. My mind becomes blank until the only thing I can think of is his hands on my body and his mouth on my skin.

"So beautiful," he whispers, but he doesn't indulge me immediately.

He stares at my body in awe, his eyes dripping with desire.

With one finger, he trails a scorching path between my breasts, teasing me mercilessly.

"Nyk," I call out his name, my voice breathy and needy.