My cheeks heated.We did.I stared into the mirror. The girl’s hair was a mess, her pyjamas wrinkled. Her reflection flickered, and my breath caught in my throat. Her eyes—black, swallowing the whites. I blinked, and the green returned.
I walked back into my room to find Preston standing by the window, casually flipping my bracelet between his fingers.
Prat. Yet, I didn’t ask for it back.
“Have you ever been to a Marzouq party?” I asked instead, picking at a loose thread on my sleeve. I hated to admit how nervous I felt about the upcoming party.
Preston tilted his head. “Worried about the dance?”
I huffed. “I’m not worried. I just don’t have the taste for it.”
The wind knocked on the glass of the window, and moments later, the first raindrop tapped on the glass. I flinched at the memory of my still fresh nightmare.
We will both fall.
Preston’s eyes flickered, and I couldn’t help but see that version of him. The one from the roof, painted in purple, wearing a smile that made the blood freeze in my veins.
“Well,” he said, “rumour has it that you got the greatest teacher of all.”
I scoffed. “I can dance.” I just preferred not to.
He turned his back to the window and crossed the room to the entrance. “We’ll see, won’t we?” He beamed. “Tomorrow night. Eight sharp. The ballroom is on your floor, in the east wing. Don’t be late.”
His smile was all thorns as he walked out, leaving the door gaping behind him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ELODIE
My neck prickled as I moved through the east wing, like the shadows themselves were watching me. The flickering candlelight danced across the walls, gilding the hallway in pale-gold. The music I followed was faint, a whisper of melody weaving the silence.
I halted in front of a towering double-winged door, carved with creatures who were locked in a frozen waltz: stags mid-leap, rabbits pirouetting, swans gliding through unseen lakes. I traced a unicorn with my fingers, my eyes already moving, settling on the small fairies on the upper half. There was no question this was the door hiding the ballroom from sight.
My fingers lingered above the forged doorknob. There was still a faint scar running across my palm from where the vine had bit me, but it didn’t hurt anymore. It was nothing more than a reminder of a lesson learned the hard way. I let my hand fall around the cool iron, its surface adorned with silver vines, and edged the door open.
The room was swimming in the moonlight. It spilled in through tall windows like liquid silver, flooding the floor, glidingover everything it touched. At the far end, seated at a grand piano as if he’d been poured from the night itself, was Preston.
He played as if he was in the Royal Albert Hall, performing in front of thousands of people, and not the stars peeking through the windows. His fingers moved with reckless precision. The music wasn’t sweet. It was devastating. The keys bled under his touch. I stayed in the shadows, letting the sound soak into my skin. Letting it unravel within me.
When the last chord fell—a low, echoing thing that trembled through the bones of the manor—I straightened, my breath caught between my ribs.
Preston stood, stretching his neck with a careless grace, his back to me. “How long are you planning on lurking in the shadows?”
I stilled. How on earth did he know I was here? I looked around the room, but as far as I could tell we were the only ones. Preston turned around, adjusting his shirt cuffs, his gaze landing on me. Whatever peace the song made me feel was gone as he surveyed me. I pushed myself away from the wall and stepped into the silver light.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” I answered, earning a snort. “Since when can you play?” I fixed the bun on the top of my head.
“I can’t go around revealing all of my secrets now, can I?” he replied, strolling to the centre of the room. The moonlight caught in his blonde hair, turning it almost white at the ends.
A new melody began, soft at first—almost hesitant—then bolder. War disguised as tune. It came from every direction, tugging us closer to each other.
Preston extended his hand, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile that looked carved from sin.
“Come now, poison. Don’t be scared.”
I hesitated, but the music was alluring, promising war and new beginnings.
Slowly, I placed my hand in his.
