She knew he was only doing what they’d planned—make a spectacle out of it all—but her heart still fluttered. Lucien had made her eat and drink some juice earlier today, watching as she took her medicine. She wondered if Lucien, already inside among the wolves, was getting an alert on his phone about her high heart rate. The thought made her steps lighter. He wasn’t near her, but they were tethered. As she rose to the top of the steps, standing before the two large pillars that were wrapped in golden ribbon, fluttering in the evening breeze, she turned to stare out at the carpet. It seemed shorter than it had felt, walking it.
Cyrus dropped her gown, and the butterfly wings fluttered from the soft, shifting movements. He didn’t seem daunted at all by the crowd. She had to remind herself he was probably used to this—being in the spotlight. In contrast, Rin felt like she might pass out from the attention.
"If we’re playing their game, let’s make sure they enjoy the show," said Cyrus, and she barely had time to make a sound of protest before he gripped her waist and dipped her low, until the softly curled ends of her hair brushed the marble steps.
Rin felt the tendons in her neck strain, trying to keep her head upright. "What are you doing?"
She was held up only by Cyrus’s strong arms. He stared down at her, and his profile was lit with the bright flash of the cameras. "Giving them what they want."
Then he pressed his lips to hers, and she could think of nothing else.
If the crowd had any reservations about what they were to each other, this kiss disproved them all.
Cyrus kissed her like he was starved, and when her eyes opened and she saw red glimmering around them, she realized he was. Starving forher.
When he pulled away, her lips felt swollen, and his were red and shiny with her gloss. The crowd was utterly silent.
In a fluid movement, Cyrus raised her, and the doors of the Academy opened. As they entered, they shut behind them with a resolute thud. Trapped, there was no escaping now.
Lucien satat one of the ornate tables scattered around the edges of the room. The ground floor of the Academy had been transformed into a decadent ballroom. A hologram of falling Stars was cast onto the walls, drifting down onto the floor. Servers in plain masks glided through the room with elegance, poised as they offered exquisite, rare drinks and appetizers from distant planets. Lucien spotted sparkling liquors in beveled glasses, Caltan orange peels resting on the rim, dark amber briux, and pastel-green pastries with flaky outer shells that turned to smoke when bitten into.
A server approached, silent as they held out a tray. Lucien stared at the thin wine glass, barely the size of his finger, and reached for one before he could stop himself. He gave a nod of thanks to the server before they left, then drank it in one go. It fizzed on his tongue, the flavor profile turning sharp and tangy, then sweet, then slightly bitter as it hit the back of his throat. He hid a grimace, rubbing his hand over his jaw as he stared out at the dance floor, where Cyrus and Vesperin twirled with grace. If he didn’t know his V girl so well, he’d assume she was unbothered by the stares and whispers. But their Souls were forged from the same fabric. He knew her better than himself—and he knew she wasverybothered by the way the guests left a wide berth around them as they danced, talking behind their hands, eyes never straying far from the infamous Cyrus Soltren.
Her gown rippled, butterfly wings flapping as Cyrus spun her. Their lips moved, though Lucien knew they were using their intimate position to speak with Rhyden, who was cataloging the Academy’s interior with infrared sensors.
Sabine and Talor were currently absent. When Lucien had entered before Vesperin, they’d been there, and he had met their eyes with an unwavering stare, nodding in acknowledgment. Shortly after, they disappeared. If Rhyden’s tech was accurate, they were a few floors below. Heat signatures in the belly of the Academy—an area not marked on the schematics—had confirmed it.
"Almost," Rhyden said sharply, as if sensing Lucien’s thoughts.
Lucien brought the empty glass to his lips, hiding his mouth as he spoke. "You have the blueprint model?"
"I fucking said almost, didn’t I? Shit," Rhyden cursed. "Daryk is hacking into the Academy’s maintenance database. The firewall is less fortified than the main security databases. If there are reports of a back way into the lower levels, he’ll find it. Just hold on." He paused, and Lucien placed the glass on the table. "Not going to steal a dance?"
Lucien huffed, turning his head to the side. "It is too dangerous. She has Cyrus. To all the world, only he is her Soulbond."
And the world was nothing.
Rhyden went silent.
Lucien couldn’t take his eyes off Vesperin, the way the holograms of Stars rippled over her gown and white hair, shimmering as they shattered on the gilded floor in thousands of projected parts.
"Trying to escape the masses?" a feminine voice purred.
Lucien looked up, finger tapping his knee. A woman stood before him. He didn’t recognize her, but by the opulence of herdiamond necklace and silver gown that clung to her voluptuous curves, he assumed she must be a socialite, invited to the gala to secure donations.
"Something like that," Lucien said coolly. She shifted until she blocked his view of the dance floor, making ire swell within him. He looked at her fully. "May I help you?"
"A man who knows what he wants. I can appreciate that. I’m Jessa." She held out a manicured hand. "Jessa Nixo."
Lucien hummed.
"And I know who you are, Lucien Quenlan. I’ve seen your face in medical magazines—the youngest, most affluent doctor in Solar City. This gala is the most esteemed event of the year. Yet, instead of mingling with the other power-hungry guests, you’re over here all alone. Why is that?"
Her words drew his full attention.
"Why do you approach me? I’m not looking for a dance partner." No, his forever dance partner was currently in the arms of another.
Jessa Nixo laughed, tendrils of her sleek red hair falling over her shoulders. "I am not looking for a dance partner. My card is full." She gestured to the empty chair at his side, a question in her eyes. Lucien nodded, and she sat primly, reaching into a small clutch and pulling something free. Her words were low as she leaned close to him. "I have a proposal for you—another card." She slid a small black card across the tablecloth to him. His eyes dropped, and he saw a phone number on it. "I am here tonight in appearance as the daughter of one of the generous benefactors of the Hunter’s Guild Academy, but in truth, I’m working on a story."
