Chapter 19
The morning light giving way to afternoon sunshine filters through the purple curtains of my dorm room. Well, it’s more Raven’s now that I spend every night with Xavier. We haven’t been together long, but it’s hard to imagine not falling asleep with his body pressed to mine, his breaths grazing my skin, and his hands gripping me as though I’m precious to him.
That man has become my emotional support assassin.
“So, the Sanguine Solstice is tonight,” I say, trying to sound casual as I pick at a piece of toast left over from my brunch with the girls.
June looks at me, and her eyes flash with warning. “Yes, it is.” Her words are slow and measured, her gaze flicking to Raven before she speaks again. “It sounds boring, to be honest.”
“Maybe,” I say.
I press my lips together to prevent myself from asking more questions. June’s subtle reminder to keep Raven oblivious of the Order and its secrets isn’t lost on me, but I really want to know what’s happening tonight. What Xavier will be doing without me.
Raven gapes at us and slaps a hand to her chest. “May you be spared from the ninth circle of hell for your disrespect, Juniper. The Blood Moon is a time for the sacred ritual of cleansing or protection. I prefer to smite people, but that hasn’t worked yet.”
June snorts. “Of course you’d try that. Delilah’s talking about a ball the fraternity is throwing tonight.”
“A ball?” Raven’s expression brightens with curiosity when she glances at me. “Sounds posh, my dear Watson.”
“I’m sure it will be, but it’s not a big deal.” I shrug, the display of nonchalance completely at odds with the emotions swirling inside me. I look at June. “Declan’s taking you, right?”
When she nods, my stomach churns with envy. “Yeah, I’ll see you there,” she says.
“I’m not going.”
June blinks at me in confusion. “Why not?”
“Xavier said he doesn’t want me to go.”
“Why?” they both ask in unison.
“I have no idea.”
June is the first to recover from the shock. “Are you guys fighting?”
“Not really. Do you think it’s because he…” I gnaw the inside of my cheek, finding the courage to finish my question. “Is it because I’m not classy?” I throw up my hands. “Forget I said anything. Even if I wanted to go, I don’t have anything to wear.”
Raven pushes from her bed, her boots landing with a thud. “Never fear, Watson. Sherlock is on the case. You’re going, and that’s final.”
I smile at my friend. “It’s okay. Seriously. If he doesn’t want me there, then I don’t want to go.”
My roommate grabs her purse from the dresser and slings it over her shoulder. Then she claps her hands, the loud and succinct noise making me jump. “Get up. We’re going shopping, bitches.”
I spendthe afternoon trying on ball gowns and a few masquerade masks—so I can “spy on X like every girlfriend should.” Raven, ever the fashion enthusiast, leads the charge, her gaze scanning store windows with the precision of a professional shopper. Unrelenting and stubborn as hell, she doesn’t allow us to return to the dorms until I find the perfect dress. Thankfully, June told me it has to be red in order to represent the Blood Moon.
By the time the sun sets, I’m sitting in a chair while June curls my hair and Raven applies my makeup. The laughter and chatter floats around me, and I’m swept up in the joy of it all. Is this what it’s like to have girl friends? It’s a breath of fresh air, brushing away the dust covering my soul, a brief reprieve from the constant danger of the Order.
“Behold!” Raven says, extending her arms toward me. “Now you can look.”
Standing up, I turn to face the mirror, taking in their work. The woman staring back at me is everything I ever wished to be. Stunning. Classy. Beautiful. The crimson dress hugs my figure in just the right way, enhancing my curves and showing enough skin to entice. My hair and makeup have been done to perfection.
“Thank you so much,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’ve never felt so pretty.”
“One, if you cry and ruin my makeup, I’m going to smack you,” Raven says, planting her hands on her hips. “Two, you look fan-fucking-tastic. Three, every guy there is going to get a boner just looking at you.”
When I scrunch my face and June makes a disgruntled noise, Raven’s expression turns flippant. “Sorry, not sorry. Where is this ball again?”
“At the fraternity.”
“Of course, it is.” Raven rolls her eyes. “It’s a castle, so why wouldn’t it have a ballroom?”
June sighs. “Speaking of, we should probably head that way.”
“Right.” I take a step and then pivot, throwing my arms around Raven. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Watson. I told you I’d handle it.”
“What about me?” June asks with a playful smile.
I release Raven to embrace her. “Thank you so much.”
June and I separate. “Don’t thank me yet,” she says. “This event could be boring as hell, and I don’t want you blaming me for your suffering.”
“I won’t.”
After putting on my mask, and one final check in the mirror, I follow after June with a wave at Raven.
A strange nervousness fills me as we walk through the halls and step outside. Am I worried about Xavier’s reaction if he catches me at the ball? Or is my intuition trying to warn me about something else entirely?
“Delilah, I know this afternoon was fun, but please be careful tonight. I’m not just talking about the friction between you and X. The Order isn’t trustworthy, so when they say this is a celebration for the Trials, it doesn’t quite pass my bullshit detector. You know what I mean?”
I look at June and nod. Her words give voice to the apprehension I’ve been feeling. “I do.”
“It makes me wonder if X told you not to come because he’s trying to protect you.”
“I didn’t even consider that.”
And I should have. Xavier may be toxic and possessive, but he values my safety above everything else. Part of me thinks I’m making a mistake. But the wounded part of me, the brokenness in my heart can’t stand his rejection. And lack of explanation. Why doesn’t he want me there at his side?
When June and I approach the fraternity gates, they part on command. That never fails to creep me out. Someone is definitely watching us.
We make our way inside, and she stops suddenly, her lips pursing. “Hey, I need to go to Declan’s room real quick. I forgot my clutch.”
“I can wait for you, or I can go by myself. No worries either way.”
June waves a hand in dismissal. “Go on ahead. I don’t want you to miss anything. Assuming it’s not some lame-ass party full of rich people who want nothing more than to shove their golden dicks in everyone’s faces.”
I choke a little. “I hope not.”
She winks at me and turns to head toward the stairs, the hem of her scarlet gown dragging along the steps. I watch her for a moment and then make my way to the ballroom located in the west wing.
The corridors of the castle are a maze, but June’s directions are clear in my mind, guiding me through the stone passageways that feel both ancient and alive. The flickering torches mounted on the walls cast elongated shadows, adding a sense of mystery and anticipation to the atmosphere.
Maybe that’s my imagination getting the best of me. What will I find when I get there? Will Xavier’s reason for telling me not to come be obvious? Or is he doing something that he doesn’t want me to know about? I trust him. However, his status as an assassin in a secret society isn’t exactly the best character reference.
The muffled sounds of music and laughter begin to filter through the heavy wooden doors at the end of the hallway. Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my hands by running them along my thighs. My dress and mask are like armor, a source of protection in a night filled with unknowns.
Pushing the doors open, I’m immediately struck by the grandeur of the ballroom. The descending staircase captures my attention first in the way it gracefully leads to the dance floor where the members of the Order congregate down below. All of them dressed entirely in black. From their dress shirts, tuxedos, and shoes, they’re covered in the inky hue, embodying the name they’ve been given: a crow.
In contrast, every woman present is wearing red, their gowns varying in shades from the deepest burgundy to the brightest scarlet. No doubt symbolic of the Blood Moon.
I swear, I’ve never met a group of people more attracted to symbolism. You’d think it was a religion.
Before my nerves can overtake me, I lift my chin head toward the top of the stairs, keeping my pace slow and even. With every step, the details of the ballroom become clearer. The intricate figures of the ceiling frescoes. The opulent chandeliers. The veins in the gleaming hardwood of the dance floor. And the tall, arched windows draped with heavy velvet curtains in black and gold.
I stop when I reach the top of the staircase and search for Xavier. I find him almost immediately. He stands with a small group on the outskirts of the crowd, his posture rigid and the lines of his tuxedo sharp, the black fabric complimenting his tall frame. It’s his eyes, though, that capture me—gray and piercing, even from across the room, even behind the mask that obscures his face. They’re fixed on me, intense and unreadable.
So much for the mask hiding my identity.
One by one, everyone’s attention turns toward me, their gazes ranging from curious to appreciative as Xavier makes his way to the stairs. To me.
My pulse kicks up a notch, unease making my hands tremble when he puts his foot on the first step and I catch the dangerous glint in his eyes. He ascends the stairs, his gait calm and controlled. But the closer he gets, the more the air fills with anticipation. Whispers weave through the crowd, a melody of speculation and intrigue. By the time he reaches the platform, the space around us is charged with dark energy, so far removed from the Cinderella fairy tale outcome I’d secretly hoped for.
My prince charming looks ready to kill me.
“Xavier,” I greet him, my voice steady despite the rioting emotions inside me. My use of his name, simple and direct, is a declaration, a refusal to be intimidated by his anger.
His response is a slight tilt of his head, his gaze narrowing to slits. “Bride.”
The crowd watches as Xavier lifts his hand and grabs me by the throat.