Chapter 10 Zera
Zera
The night sky was a dark canvas, illuminated by the glow of neon lights and punctuated by the twinkling stars above.
Zera had never been in a chariot before, but the glass dome of the sleek vehicle allowed her to take in the dazzling cityscape.
The city felt mystical and alive, with secrets waiting to be discovered in every shadowy corner.
Maverick and Zera sat in silence in a chariot made of glass.
Zera admired the twinkling light from the overhead lamps that floated along the road as they followed the procession through the gate.
Finally, they arrived at the stone mansion, which stood out among the surrounding skyscrapers like a historical reminder of the early Fae Realm from centuries past. The extravagant gala was in full swing, with throngs of people climbing up the front staircase leading to a massive entrance.
As they came to a stop, Maverick jumped out and extended his hand to help Zera down. Their fingers brushed, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Ready?” he asked, his storm-filled eyes catching hers for a brief moment before she nodded in response.
She looped her arm into the crook of his muscled forearm and joined the line.
“One more thing,” Maverick whispered, causing a sinking feeling. “Upon entering, we’ll have landed on neutral territory. A spell will magically bind us to the promise that we won’t hurt anyone while we’re here and they us.”
Zera’s eyes widened, but relief washed over her. Otherwise, the bounty on their heads alone would’ve made them prime targets.
The line moved quickly, and they soon found themselves in the grand entrance of the castle that had been transformed into a magnificent art gallery that boasted a luxuriousness reserved only for the elite.
The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting heroic battles, and the floors were made of polished marble, reflecting the soft glow of candlelight.
Chandeliers dripping with jewels of all colors cast dazzling reflections.
The scent of roses and jasmine filled the air; the floral arrangements were a feast for the eyes as they climbed the walls like ivy. A subtle-yet-intoxicating aroma wafted from Maverick, somehow intensifying the vibrancy of the atmosphere. Zera felt a sense of awe at everything that surrounded her.
Together, they followed the enormous hall through a long corridor that opened to a ballroom with even more artwork, ivy floral arrangements, and echoes of a great party.
“Wow,” Zera whispered as her wide-eyed gaze swept over the art pieces displayed along the walls. “It’s… breathtaking.”
“Stay focused,” Maverick reminded her gently, his voice a low drawl that sent warmth curling through her body. His tux was a second skin, outlining each muscle and making it hard for Zera to remember why they were here.
“I’m always focused,” she retorted playfully, giving him a sidelong glance. “Just appreciating the view.” She let her gaze linger on him for a moment longer before turning back to the artwork.
He chuckled, a low rumble that made her stomach flutter. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Zera.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she shrugged nonchalantly. If she was at a ball undercover as a married woman, she might as well enjoy it. “And if I am?”
The corners of his mouth twitched upward in a smirk. “Then I’d say you’re doing a good job. But we should try to keep things on track. Stick to the mission.”
He was right. She had to stay focused. Besides, hadn’t she been the one moments before telling him they needed to stay professional?
She shook off the inappropriate thoughts that threatened to make her full-on pull him into the next dark corner they passed and bring her wettest dream to life. And if the dressing room incident was any preview, she knew Maverick could do just that and more.
“Right. Focused.” She licked her lips, shaking off the distracting fantasies and the awe-inspiring wonder of this place.
As they mingled among the guests, Zera could feel the weight of gazes upon them. She tucked a strand of her hair back to ensure her ears were still rounded and the brown film concealing her pixie identity was in place. She couldn’t risk revealing herself. Not in a roomful of crime lords and thugs.
“Remember, we’re just a normal married couple here,” Maverick murmured into her ear as they made their way toward the center of the ballroom lined with endless artwork from floor to ceiling.
“Yes, because being married to a werewolf spy—”
“Logistics strategist,” he corrected with a teasing grin.
“Right, ’cause that’s totally normal.” She rolled her eyes but tightened her grip on his arm when they passed by two druids with matching runes tattooed onto their foreheads.
“Our target goes by the name of Kraven,” he said in a hushed voice. “He’s supposedly a hotshot around here, so expect him to have a strong following of guards.”
“Got it,” she replied, an odd mix of nerves and excitement bubbling within her. She could do this. After all, she had the best logistics strategist by her side, whatever that meant.
“Also, I heard he’s behind the recent fae murders, though to my knowledge, it’s gang related and not random. Still, stay close.”
She gulped. The news had said that the bodies had been skinned alive. A shudder ran through her, but her fear wouldn’t help her right now.
Shaking off her fear as best she could, she took on the role of a confident and poised woman. It was like those espionage shows she and Jade had watched late at night growing up until they fell asleep.
The lively music from the string quartet of fairies filled the ballroom as Maverick and Zera began to navigate their way through the crowd.
While she tried to concentrate on their mission, she stole glances at Maverick, admiring the ease with which he blended into the high society.
It was almost as if he had been born for this life—a stark contrast to her own humble origins.
The guests whirled around them, their opulent attire and sparkling jewelry adding to the already mesmerizing display. Zera caught glimpses of conversations and snippets of whispers that hinted at the dangerous undercurrent coursing through this elegant facade.
Zera marveled at the way Maverick effortlessly charmed those around them, his smile disarming and his words dripping with charisma.
He was a werewolf of many talents, seamlessly adapting to any situation.
Zera struggled to keep up with the intricate dance of lies and deceit they were engaged in, but Maverick had proved capable, and she trusted that.
All she had to do was keep calm, keep holding on to his arm, and keep a small flow of pixie dust flowing to shield her features.
If anything, Maverick assured her that all of the features of her black dress worked the same way they did in all of Felice’s creations, so if she had to defend herself, she wasn’t at risk of exposing her pixie dust in a roomful of killers.
“There,” he whispered in her ear, resting a hand on the small of her back that sent a jolt of electricity through her.
Zera’s heart raced as she followed Maverick’s gaze.
Her eyes landed on a tall figure with silver hair and piercing blue eyes that cut through the dim light like shards of ice.
It must be Kraven. He stood near a roaring fire, speaking to a woman who was practically drooling into her champagne glass over him, her eyes fixed on his stunning face.
But it was a mere distraction from the guards surrounding him, who were strapped with weapons and looked as menacing as they were impeccably dressed, their expressions cold and unyielding.
“That’s sure a lot of firepower for a party on neutral territory,” she murmured back, feigning a laugh as she pretended Maverick had just whispered a joke.
“Rumor has it Kraven’s the new ringleader of the criminal underworld,” Maverick said, pulling her against him when Kraven’s gaze flickered across them. “Of course he’s allowed more protection than the rest of us.”
The crime lord looked away as someone else came to introduce themselves. He seemed to be very popular with the ladies, and she could see why. He was a gray fox, if she ever saw one.
“Is he dangerous?” Zera asked as they continued to mingle in the crowd.
“Very,” he replied, his voice barely audible above the symphony of voices and the string quartet as the fairies continued playing a traditional faen anthem.
Maverick’s grip on her waist tightened suddenly as a man in his mid-to-late thirties approached them, holding a wineglass filled with what looked suspiciously like blood. He donned a polished red suit that complemented his obsidian complexion that glistened with a mesmerizing sheen.
“Dane? Dane Brown?”
She cringed when his pearly teeth clacked together, revealing sharp incisors. Definitely a vampire.
“Sebastian,” Maverick greeted the vamp with a genuine smile, but there was a strained undertone she didn’t understand. “How’s life in the Fae Realm’s very own hell?”
The vampire named Sebastian nearly keeled over with laughter. “Ah, good old Dane. You never did get why I entered to compete for the vampire queen’s court, did you?”
Now, she got it. Sebastian belonged to the queen as one of her many consorts.
In addition to the rumors of the vampire queen having a back door to the Human Realm, there were other well-founded whisperings that vampire fae traded their freedom for access to said back door.
No one could prove it, and no one in the consort ever broke their silence on the matter.
“Seems like a high price to pay,” Maverick replied, his eyes narrowing as he studied the vampire. “But I suppose it has its perks.”
“Indeed, it does,” Sebastian said with a smirk. “I’ve seen things most can only dream of, and the queen’s favor is not without its benefits.”