Chapter 4
This is so stupid.
A fucking ball.
Mother of the stars, save me.
I expected death, screams, a bloodbath—but somehow, I have ended up in a gown long enough to hang myself with, glittery shoes so high I could stab someone with them, and jewellery so sparkly it might blind me in daylight.
It’s all for the trials, I tell myself as I take a deep breath.
It’s been a long time since I bothered to look nice in front of a mirror.
I barely recognise the dark-haired woman staring back at me.
My soft curls almost reach my waist, as I haven’t found the energy to sort it out for months.
My grey eyes have only looked lively in the past hours because I’m too alert and don’t know what the hell is going on.
I glance down at my golden gown—bright as the moon, shimmering like the stars.
Gods, I hate how beautiful it is, how perfectly it hugs my curves, and how effortlessly it fits me.
This is so wrong.
This should not be how I get Declan back.
But unfortunately, it’s the only way.
Let’s get this shit over with.
I open the door to find Lucas waiting for me.
He’s in a navy three-piece suit, as sharp as I’ve ever seen him.
It complements his light brown hair and tanned skin nicely.
And Gods—he’s tall. Six foot something, maybe?
I’ve always thought he’s good-looking, but I’ve never really looked at him until tonight.
Since we might die any day now, I hope this man hooks up with some hot Fae.
I might have considered it myself, if he weren’t Declan’s best friend—but let’s not go there.
“How long have you been standing here?” I ask.
“Not long.” He shrugs. “Fifteen minutes or so.”
“Why didn’t you knock?”
“Didn’t want to rush you,” he simply says. “I came because I don’t trust that guy Jordan.”
“I think there’s a chance he’s out at some brothel.”
“Best not leave things to chance around here.”
Fair enough.
“Shall we?” he asks, nodding towards the endless corridor. We’re left to find our own way back to the hall this time.
I’ve never really spent time alone with Lucas before. There’re friends who belong to both Declan and me, but Lucas was one of his. They basically grew up together.
Now, I’m not sure what to talk to him about without Declan in the picture, and the way Lucas keeps both of his hands stuffed in his pockets and quietly sighs tells me he feels the same way.
“Don’t you think it’s ridiculous, this opening ceremony?” I try to break the ice first.
“Tell me about it.” He scoffs. “And the fact that they’re giving us two weeks between trials—treating us like kings and queens, letting us wander outside. Feels like a trap to me.”
“Maybe it’s just a fun game to them. Something to watch.”
“I still don’t get it.” Lucas exhales, shaking his head. “They could have easily just thrown us all into a cell.”
“I know,” I murmur. “Though I’m glad they didn’t.”
He stops walking, turning to me. “I know you know this, but don’t trust anyone.”
“Not even you?”
His jaw tenses. “They’ve got magic here, Cassandra. You’d never know how they could use me … or any of us.”
I suppose that’s true.
“Same goes for you.”
“I’ll try.” Lucas nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
We reach the hall a few minutes later, the sound of music seeping through the arched doors.
Laughter and conversation echo down the corridor, rich and alive.
This time, the doors swing open on their own—and I’m almost blinded by glitter, candlelight, and gowns so glamourous they look like they’re made of stardust.
Good lord.
All the Fae are masked.
It’s a masquerade for them—but not for us.
The Fae part like the tide, eyes locking on both of us as we walk in. Some grin underneath their masks.
I scan the hall—not all contestants are here yet. Only the quiet woman whose name I still don’t know, the nineteen-year-old, and Oliver.
They all look absolutely petrified.
“I hope they’ve got strong wine,” I mutter. “I’m going to need it.”
“That makes two of us.”
We join the little circle of no-magic people, completely surrounded by a group of wings, claws, and unsettling beauty. Even with the masks, I can practically feel them radiating. If they weren’t so terrifying, this masquerade might almost trick me into thinking they were angels.
None of us knows what to do with ourselves, or even where to look. The same young Fae walks by with a tray of drinks, and Lucas and I immediately grab one each.
“I wouldn’t drink that,” Oliver warns. “Who knows what Fae wine would do to a human body.”
“Yeah, well.” Lucas clicks his tongue. “We’re going to die sooner or later, anyway.”
He chugs the wine.
I do the same.
Oliver underestimates what two depressed people, bonding over the same grief, are willing to drink just to forget the pain.
Oh, that’s punchy.
The wine is stronger than I expected. The first sip is almost divine, sweet and dry with a little hint of something unfamiliar, but it leaves a lovely taste lingering on my tongue.
Tessa arrives in a light blue gown a few minutes later, her jaw dropping to the ground after realising it’s a masquerade party. She sprints to us, eyes wide.
Still no signs of Jordan.
I hope a Fae suffocated him in the brothel with a silk pillow and zero regrets—it would save us all the trouble.
But a cockroach like him doesn’t die easily. Cut off his head and he’d probably live another week.
He finally graces us with his arrogance half an hour later, all grinning like a champion who just fucked a Fae for the first time. It’s written all over his face.
I knew he wouldn’t miss the chance.
He grabs a glass of Fae wine as he walks over to us, instantly bragging. “I don’t know about you guys, but I had a rather interesting afternoon with a Fae.”
“What the fuck did you use to pay at the brothel?” Lucas frowns. “You did pay, right? Because these Fae will cut off your head if you didn’t.”
“Why, asking for a tip for yourself?” Jordan lifts a brow.
Lucas rolls his eyes. “Please, I’m not so desperate I need to pay for sex.”
I grin.
That must have hurt.
But of course, a guy like Jordan doesn’t give a shit.
“You should,” he says, grabbing a drink before sipping it. “These things feed on promises, if you don’t have money. All you’ve got to do is offer them one, and make sure you keep it.”
What?
Promises are a currency around here?
Lucas narrows his eyes at him. “So, what sick thing did you promise the Fae?”
Jordan smirks now. “That she’d come before me.”
Of course he did.
His arrogance is truly staggering.
I wouldn’t be surprised if his wish was to sleep with a Fae and remain alive just long enough to tell the tale.
I’d be lying if I said the idea isn’t tempting. Sleeping with a magical, gracious Fae—a gorgeous one like the one who came to me the other night.
I wonder how different it would be compared to a human…
There’s a ninety-percent chance I’ll die in one of the trials, anyway.
The thought of shagging one before I kick the bucket doesn’t sound half bad.
Declan is dead. It’s not like I’ve been touched much these days.
I sip my wine in silence, half embarrassed, half thirsty from the thought. Guilt creeps in, like it always does every time I let myself feel anything that resembles happiness or excitement.
Letting go of Declan, even for a moment, feels like a betrayal.
My eyes scan the hall once more, trying to shake off this guilt that’s eating me alive.
And then I see him.
Standing at the far end in a black suit, wings tucked tight, hands in his pockets.
His eyes are already on me.
Two different eye colours—one gold, one deep blue. Like he was born from an eclipse storm. I see them, even with his mask on, even from distance.
Just when I was tempted to climb that body for fun before I say goodbye to this earth.
Or maybe these shameful thoughts will be the death of me.
Sure, I’m still mourning over Declan—doesn’t mean I’m blind to a smoking hot, dangerous Fae.
“Wow, what a sight!”
I’d recognise that voice anywhere.
All eyes turn to the platform where Aurora stands in a scarlet gown slashed down to her chest, her full, perfect cleavage on display. A gold mask rims her eyes, the edges dusted in red to match her dress and her crimson lips curved with delight.
She looks radiant. Ethereal.
Such beauty doesn’t belong in this world.
Even I might not pass on a chance to sleep with her.
If there is ever a time to try everything before I die, this is it.
Gods, what the fuck did they put in the wine in this place?
I glance back at the hot Fae—but he’s gone, completely vanished.
Huh.
“Contestants.” Aurora’s green eyes drop to us, her voice so smooth like her velvet gown.
“You all look dashing tonight. Please come forward and introduce yourselves and give us one promise … just one you’ll keep throughout this competition.
It doesn’t have to be related to your wish.
” She smiles. “There’ll be side quests between the trials, granting various prizes. This will help us design the games.”
Oh, Gods.
They really love to play.
Jordan is the first to dare stalking towards Aurora, probably wishing he could get close enough to charm her into bed, too. The rest of us follow reluctantly.
“You look beautiful tonight, Aurora,” he says, bowing like he’s at her altar.
Aurora doesn’t react, or smile. She keeps her chin high, her spine straight.
“Hello, my name is Jordan,” he announces to the room, no glimpse of fear in his eyes, only delight.
I wonder if he made a bet with his mates and genuinely believes he could win it all. He’s vibrating with excitement, probably imagining how he’ll brag about all this later.
“I’m twenty-seven and an artist,” he continues. “I draw great nudes and would consider sitting as a nude model—so, if anyone’s interested … well, you know where to find me.” Then he winks. “My promise is that it will be worth your while.”
Oh. My. Gods.
What is this man made of?
Is this really all his tiny little brain could come up with?