Page 38 of I Am the Storm
I don't feel as confident as I sound about that last part, given my lack of control over my powers and my fears surrounding them, but this is the right decision, and they can suck it if they think they get to control what I do.
I smile charmingly. "I'd better go shopping for an outfit, then."
* * *
The night of the ball,Lily helps me dress. And given the complexity of the gown I'm wearing, I need all the help I can get.
It takes us—no lie—about four hours to get me ready. FOUR HOURS!?!?!? I'm so exhausted when we're done that I don't even want to go anymore, but Lily just laughs at me and spins me to face the mirror.
I gasp.
I look… magical.
The dress is Dryad inspired, made of shimmering emerald green fabric that curves around my body seductively, with slashes cut out to reveal my stomach and cleavage. Vines—that are magicked to look real and move on their own—wind up my legs and arms and twine around my gown dotted with white blossoms. My mask is made of diamonds and emeralds that are applied directly to my face directly, like makeup, so that I look as if I'm becoming a gemstone. The same stones dot my hair, which is twisted into elaborate braids intertwined with thin vines blossoming with more white flowers. My lips are blood red, my eyes are painted with sparkling silver, and the rest of my exposed skin is dusted with powdered diamond magicked to sparkle all night.
Lily drives me to our destination in the carriage, which has been recently cleaned, polished, and upgraded with deep cushions and a much better shock absorbing system. I have to remember to thank Elijah—and Liam, who very likely lit a fire under the air Druid's ass.
The horses are brushed down and wearing their most elaborate gear. We are quite the splendor, arriving as we do.
With a silly curtsy, Lily leaves me at the entrance and escapes into the nearby trees to await my return. I stand before the grand double doors and take a nervous breath. I got this.
Straightening my back, I clench my ticket in my hand and ring the bell.
The doors immediately open, and an older man in a black tux, likely the butler, asks to see my ticket. I hand it to him, and he waves a hand inviting me in.
Inside the manor is a lavish display of wealth and luxury. Thousands of candles line the walls and tables, casting dancing light against the cream walls. Candelabras fall from the ceiling in intricate designs inspired by nature, creating haunting shadows on the ceiling. The ballroom has already attracted a crowd as an orchestra plays the most unusual instruments I've ever seen. A woman in the center, who seems the star, flicks the chords of what looks like a double-sided harp with the help of four extra arms.
The walls are lined with tables full of food and drink for all manner of supernatural creature. Vampires fill their goblets from the blood fountain. Mermaids in human form—their skin covered in the faintest trace of translucent scales—partake of the live seafood display. There's a table full of raw meat and small cages with live animals for the hunting carnivores. Wolves, maybe? I shiver and keep moving, making my way through the crowds, unsure of what I'm looking for.
I study the faces around me looking for a familiar one beneath the masks when I feel someone's breath against my neck, his body close to mine.
A hand lands on my ass as another wraps around my waist to graze my breast and I turn, shocked, to confront a man I don't recognize who wears a lewd expression.
"Get your hands off me!" I shout, pushing him back.
He's of medium build and height, with mousy brown hair and small, dark eyes. Honestly, he could be considered decent looking in another context, but right now I just want to cut off his hands.
He just smirks, tips his top hat at me, and walks away.
I'm so furious at the violation I'm shaking as my brain tries to catch up with my body. What do I do? Do I tell someone? This isn't the New York subway. I wasn't expecting such behavior, and it's triggering every vulnerable, angry, defiant feeling I've ever had when men take liberties as if my body is their personal toy.
The awful man walks across the room, his eyes clearly set on a young, green-haired mermaid enjoying live shrimp at one of the tables.
"Merde. You're the third woman I've seen him pull that shit on," a familiar voice whispers in my ear. His closeness makes me jump, and I spin on him, all my ire and rage welling up in me.
"What are you doing here?" I hiss, looking around to see if anyone noticed him.
And then I forget my words when I take a good look at the sexy dark Druid. He's dressed in all black, as per usual, with a long fur cape trimmed at the collar in black bird feathers. His mask is also made of feathers, and his hair is coifed in such a way that it changes his appearance entirely. I would swear on my life he's part bird if I didn't know better, and I squint at him, trying to see the magick I know is aiding his impressive illusion.
"Can you see it, then?" Cole asks, raising a hand to my face and tracing my cheek gently. "Can you see the power that connects us?"
His dark eyes pull me in as always, and I shudder and step back, reluctantly fighting this attraction I feel. "I don't see anything," I say, but that's not entirely true, though 'see' might be the wrong word. I feel it, this tie, this thread that keeps pulling us closer together. But it scares me.
He tilts his head and smiles. "You will in time,mon coeur," he says softly. "What is here cannot be denied."
"You didn't answer my question, what are you doing here?"
"Disobeying my brothers, of course. And providing you with unnecessary backup. I couldn't resist the chance to see you in this gown, now could I?"