40. Chapter 39
He downed a restoration potion as he rushed across campus for Belarune.
Ivy and the others believed his excuse of needing to complete some extra credit lab work for one of his classes, so he’d be late for the Winter Ball.
In reality, he finished erasing the posters of the four students targeted after the last exam.
Whatever was happening, the reason his father and whoever else were taking them, it increased at a speed that caused a heaviness to settle in his stomach.
If whatever they were after needed blood, how much longer would it be until they found out about Ivy’s connection to Briar? He’d be stupid to think she wasn’t the last piece they needed. But he wouldn’t let them have her. He didn’t want to let them have any more random students either.
Instead of replacing each poster, he kept their names and faces hidden in the constellations marking his skin.
He’d wear the guilt until he brought his father’s crimes to light, even if it meant Ezra would go down with him.
He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this.
His hands trembled as he tossed the vial into a nearby garbage can as terror slithered from the recesses of his mind at the thought of going against his father.
The pain, the anger, and the disappointment his father inflicted rushed through him.
Every poster he saw, the faces would transform into Ivy’s face, and he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—erase her.
Not even if his father invaded his mind to force him, like he had with Briar.
He’d face the torture all over before making her disappear.
He convinced himself that by continuing to do his father’s bidding, he would keep her safe from his family.
But Declan got to her so easily. So what else was keeping him from breaking free?
He walked through the halls of Belarune, trying to push the thoughts back so Ivy wouldn’t see right through him.
The cold from outside melted away as he climbed the steps to the ballroom entrance.
Their plan was to spend a couple of hours at the party and slip out the back so if anyone were to question them, they’d have an easy alibi.
He turned the corner on the third floor, and the doors to the ballroom at the end of the hall came into view as some students went through the illusion spell covering the entrance.
Once he stepped through, he wiped his hands against his pants and grimaced.
The spell didn’t leave any residue. He hated the stretching, slime-like texture of the barrier.
Once he shook the feeling, he peered around the ballroom.
Every inch was decorated like a pristine winter landscape.
The windows were frosted over and draped with sparkling white curtains.
Small pine trees were clustered in corners with twinkling lights and pale ornaments.
Boughs of holly hung from the rails above as an illusion of falling snow drifted from the rafters high above.
He searched the room, through the sea of people dressed in ball gowns and exquisite suits.
The music—instead of a DJ playing a mix of genres—was a live band, playing an instrumental version of a pop song he’d heard on the radio.
He called to his magic, reaching out to find her, and he weaved through the crowd as he followed it.
Everything around him—the decorations, the music, the people—faded as she came into view.
Time slowed, and he inhaled a shaking breath as he stared at her.
The pale blue ball gown she wore shimmered with silver stars stitched into the voluminous fabric.
The corset top hugged her generous curves, pressing her breasts against the hem of the straight neckline and leaving her delicate shoulders bare, except for the long red hair resting against her skin.
She hadn’t spotted him yet, her hazel eyes watching the ceiling with wonder.
The corners of her pouty lips curled into a small grin.
He finally exhaled, and time moved normally again, the sound of the crowd and the music slowly returning to him.
He slipped through the crowd, and her beautiful gaze flicked toward him. And her smile grew.
“There you are,” she murmured.
He stopped in front of her. A smooth, witty one-liner was stolen from him by her beauty.
“Ezra?” she said, reaching to squeeze his arm gently.
“You are pure starlight.”
The grip on his arm loosened as her lips formed a small “O.” Pink rushed to her cheeks, and she laughed breathlessly. “It’s just the illusion.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “It isn’t.”
She beamed at him, her blush deepening, before her eyes darted to the floor.
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Rhea went to the restroom,” she said, her head bobbing back up before she pointed into the crowd with a smirk. “And Maeve and Liam are dancing. As friends, according to Maeve.”
Ezra glanced over his shoulder where the two of them were dancing, talking, and laughing as they moved. He couldn’t see the expression on Maeve’s face, but from Liam’s, it was obvious he was absolutely smitten with her. “Does he know?”
Ivy shrugged. “She told him. Doesn’t stop him from having a little crush on her. Now that you’re here, we can go to the ex—”
“Not so fast. I may be an hour late, but we still have time to enjoy ourselves.” The song faded before the melody carried into a slower one, and he held out his hand. “Dance with me?”
“This is embarrassing.” She chuckled half-heartedly. “I never learned.”
He smiled at her as he took another step closer to her. As he did, sparkles shimmered across her chest in the light. “I can teach you.”
Ivy flitted her eyes to his outstretched hand and bit her bottom lip. Then her own slid into his. “I suppose we have time.”
He closed his hand around hers and led her to an opening in the center of the dance floor.
“You place this hand,” he said, taking her open one and placing it near his shoulder, “here. These hold on to each other like this.” He arranged their positions properly, lifting their arms to the appropriate height for a slow waltz.
With a trembling inhale, he laid his other hand just above her hip.
“Now I’ll lead.” Step by step, he guided her through the dance. She stepped on his toes a few times at first, but soon enough she was gliding across the floor with him, and their positioning relaxed. Her hand slid to rest on his shoulder, while his rested on her lower back.
“Where’d you learn to dance?”
“My mother,” he said, recalling the few happy moments in his childhood. “We were required to attend galas and parties for my father, and my mother insisted we be perfect gentlemen.”
“And did that include slicking your hair back like it is now?” She giggled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your curls this controlled.”
He groaned, and his lips pulled back as he winced. “God, I must look like my brother.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, shaking her head gently. “Even without the wild hair, you’re so much warmer. Your eyes, your smile…the way you carry yourself. You may be brothers, but you’re nothing alike.”
Tears threatened to surface. He desperately wanted to believe her. “I don’t know about that.”
“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” she whispered, her fingers playing with the collar of his jacket. Her thumb brushed against his neck, and a shiver rippled through him.
“I wish I could, too.” He wanted to believe he could be the light she saw in him. He was trying to see it, but it was buried deep with only flickers peeking through the dirt he needed to dig through.
Her hand slid out of position for their dance, and their steps slowed. But he didn’t care since her palm rested on the side of his neck and he didn’t want her to stop. Heat radiated from her touch, and the petals of her magic soothed his worries.
The song ended, and the band’s instruments drifted to silence. His hands didn’t move. He didn’t want the moment to end. “Ivy, I…”
“About time you showed up,” Maeve said with a laugh, her lavender gown swishing as she moved. Liam followed her in a sharp black tuxedo, and his cheeks were a faint shade of red once he tore his eyes away from Maeve.
Ezra expected Ivy to pull back as soon as they came over, but she didn’t. She stayed in his arms and her hands slid down to his chest. Their magic flitted around one another, and he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as a brightness shone its way through him.
“Why don’t I grab us all some drinks, as an apology for being late?” he asked.
Maeve shrugged and smirked. “I won’t say no to that.”
He looked back at Ivy and squeezed her hip gently before slipping away to the bar.
As he waited for a spot to free up, he saw Rhea come through one of the smaller doors on the side of the room.
She wore a simple black gown compared to some of the others at the party.
She didn’t notice him, though, as she wove through the crowd to get to the others.
A few minutes passed, and the door opened again, and Silas stepped out.
His breath shallowed, and he swallowed roughly.
Where Ivy resembled the stars, Silas was the night sky.
Instead of all black, he wore a midnight-blue suit.
The button-up was crisp as usual, buttoned all the way except the last one, which showcased the dip in his clavicle.
His pale skin glowed beneath the twinkling lights above him, and Ezra sighed as he watched Silas search the room.
Was Silas looking for him? A chill ran through his body as the dark gaze fell upon him.
They trailed down his body, then back slowly.
Silas tapped his thigh. Three times. A part of him desperately wanted to march over there and drag Silas’s lips to his own.
Because goddammit, Ezra missed the taste of his mouth and the soft moans he’d emit.
But he never answered Ezra’s question that night.
“Does the time we’ve spent together mean anything to you?”