Chapter 26 Halloween
The rest of the week passes in a blur of tension and distractions. Whispers still follow me down every corridor, and a few girls look at me with outright malice. Maybe because the boys who rule Blackmoore’s social hierarchy have started orbiting me instead of shoving me out into the cold.
But none of it matters right now.
Not the photos. Not the whispers. Not the guilt.
Because Saturday night is right around the corner. The annual Blackmoore Halloween Dance.
It’s all anyone can talk about. Dresses. Masks. Dates. Drama. Even the instructors have backed off a little, as if giving us space to breathe before another inevitable storm.
And through it all, Dakota is relentless.
“I’m not letting you bail,” she says, yanking open the door to my room Saturday afternoon, garment bags slung over one arm.
I slip behind the folding screen she’s set up and ease the dress on. When I step out, Dakota whistles.
I turn to look in the full-length mirror. The girl staring back is bolder, more confident. Storm-blue eyes framed by smoky liner. Lips soft and glossed. My now silver-streaked black hair has been curled into soft, elegant waves that fall over my shoulders.
I look… lethal.
“Damn,” Dakota whispers, stepping beside me. “If they weren’t already obsessed, they’re about to lose their minds.”
A flush creeps up my neck. “You think so?”
Dakota meets my eyes in the mirror. “I know so.”
I stand in front of the mirror admiring her work. I’m blown away.
My black lace mask frames my eyes perfectly. The corseted dress hugs like it’s molded to me. The slit reveals just enough leg to be dangerous.
For a moment, I let myself believe that this night can just be fun. I can laugh and dance like a normal girl and not some girl that’s trying to get into the thieves’ guild.
Maybe, just for a few hours, I can be more than what those boys try to reduce me to.
The moment I step into the hall, it’s a whole different world.
Everything shimmers.
The chandeliers cast flickering gold over marble floors and draped velvet.
Students spin in elegant masks, gliding between columns of smoke and shadow.
A DJ plays something dark and lilting from the dais, the haunting music echoing under the arched ceilings like something out of a twisted fairytale.
Dakota squeezes my hand as we descend the stairs. “Heads up,” she murmurs, smirking. “Because everyone is looking at you.”
She isn’t wrong. Conversations dull. Movements slow. A ripple of stares spread like fire through dry brush.
I hold my chin high and let the silence wrap around me like a second gown.
Let them look.
They watched me break.
Now they can watch me rise.
Dakota breaks off to find her date, her laughter trailing behind her. I stay at the edge of the dance floor, pretending not to notice the way people part around me like water. It isn’t fear. It’s curiosity.
Then they arrive.
Tex dons all black, mask a shiny gold. Luca is in dark green velvet with a devil-may-care grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Noah is in sleek navy, his hair a little messier than usual — deliberately so. And Jace, regal in tailored gray and wine red, a predator in polished armor.
For the first time… their eyes don’t scan the crowd.
They are looking at me.
Tex reaches me first, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, jaw dropping ever so slightly.
“You look…”
“Different?” I offer with a tilt of my head.
He smirks. “Delicious.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. Before I can answer, Luca steps in. “Forget dangerous. You’re stunning, sweetheart. Don’t let anyone close unless they deserve it.”
I give Luca a smile. I’ve never felt beautiful, never been told anything. But to have them looking at me like this? Like I’m some big discovery in the museum? It makes me feel good.
Confident.
Like maybe I’m not just a girl trying to fill her family’s legacy.
I’m just Isobel.
Noah’s voice comes from behind me, lower, more intimate. “We might need to revise the dress code. This? This is criminal.”
And Jace? He doesn’t speak. He just looks at me like I’m a bomb he hasn’t finished defusing yet.
My pulse thrums in my throat. I’m used to being the center of their attention — but not like this. Not when it isn’t cruel.
A slow song drifts in, and I turn to step away, feeling overwhelmed. But Tex is already offering a hand. “Dance with me.”
I place my hand in his, feeling his rough palm against my fingers.
He pulls me onto the dance floor as if it was inevitable — as if I belong there, with him, in his arms. The music is sultry, threaded with shadows and a beautiful kind of haunting.
Around us, costumed silhouettes move in time. But in that moment, it’s just us.
His hand finds my waist, the other holding my hand tenderly. My skin buzzes from the contact, memory and sensation colliding like sparks on a fuse.
My cheeks warm.
We start to move, swaying back in forth. I don’t miss how his thumb brushes along my side, over the bare skin his hands have touched before. There’s no mask between us tonight — not really.
“You look more like yourself,” his voice low.
I scan his face. “You barely know me.”
He smirks, but it softens just enough to make my chest ache. “Yeah. But I like what I do know.”
We dance in silence for a beat, the air heavy with everything we won’t say. His palm tightens against me, like he’s holding himself back — from what, I’m not sure. Or maybe I am.
I look up at him, our faces just inches apart. “You keep looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to kiss me.”
“And if I do? Claim you as mine in front of everyone?” Tex’s eyes are dark with desire.
“I’m not an object to be claimed.” I lift my chin.
Tex’s eyes drop to my lips.
“I remember everything about that night,” I say, the words breathy. “I haven’t stopped.”
He exhales like I’ve caused him pain. “You’re dangerous when you’re honest,” he growls.
“But you like danger.” I smile.
His gaze stays on me, searing and unflinching, as though nothing else in the room exists. “You look incredible tonight.”
I give a small, self-conscious smile, my fingers tightening where they rest on his shoulders. “Thanks. It’s… kind of weird. Everyone looking at me.”
He leans in, his mouth near my ear. “Let them look.”
I shiver and laugh softly, the sound surprising even me.
We move in slow circles, lights flickering around us. I’m aware of every touch, every breath. His eyes keep dropping down to my lips like he’s going to kiss me.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, after a beat, “Go out with me.”
“What?”
“Not now,” he says, smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Not like this. Just—soon. You and me. Just us.”
The song ends before I can respond, and someone brushes past us, jarring me.
Tex glares at the guy. I put a hand on his chest. Meeting my eyes, he nods and steps back, his hand sliding from my waist but lingering for one last second. “Think about it, Isobel.”
Then he’s gone, swallowed by the crowd.
The next song kicks up, faster, brighter — something with a heavy bass that vibrates through the soles of my heels. Before I can fully process what’s just happened with Tex, Dakota grabs my hand and hauls me toward the center of the dance floor.
“Okay, brooding boy break over.” Her eyes sparkle. “Time to dance like no one’s watching.”
“I think everyone’s watching,” I glance around at the sea of masked and glittering students.
Dakota rolls her eyes. “Then let’s give them a show.”
I laugh and let her pull me into the music. We dance like we’re just two girls at a sleepover, like none of this, the Guild, the cruelty, the boys matter. Just sweat, adrenaline, and pounding rhythm.
Dakota twirls dramatically, nearly bumping into someone, and we both crack up. I toss my hair back, the new weight of it swinging behind me, and letting the tempo carry me.
It feels good. Free.
For a few minutes, I’m not the girl everyone whispers about. I’m not Lucian Ashthorne’s heir. I’m just Isobel, spinning under spooky lights, laughing with my sister. I let myself have fun and I don’t care who’s around.
After a few songs, I tell Dakota I need some air. She asks if I want company, but I assure her I’ll be fine and for her to keep dancing.
The cold hits me as I open the door — crisp and biting after the heavy warmth of the dance floor.
I step outside the hall, letting the door fall shut behind me.
The silence wraps around me like a familiar blanket.
My lungs ache for the clean air, my skin flushed and buzzing from too much, too many stares, too many emotions I don’t know how to name.
I walk to the edge of the terrace, placing my hands on the stone railing, letting the night sky wash over me. I tilt my face upward, letting the moonlight find me. The cool breeze lightly caresses against my heated skin. For a moment, I breathe and admire the beauty of the night.
Then I hear the soft shift of footsteps, the creak of expensive leather shoes. “Didn’t think you’d run from your own spotlight.”
My spine stiffens.
“Of course you’re out here,” I sigh, not turning around. “What? Tired of glowering from the shadows?”
“No.”
The simplicity of his answer makes me blink as I turn slowly to face him.
Jace stands near one of the stone columns, hands in his pockets, looking like something carved out of shadows and steel. His usual cold prince expression set in place.
We stare each other down, neither apparently willing to break first. The air between us whirrs with tension. Jace moves, his steps syncing with the faint bass from inside. My heart skips.
He stops so close I can smell him. It’s a delicious smoky scent, with a trace of something darker. I mentally kick myself for wanting to lean in closer.
“You’re incredibly stubborn.” His voice travels through my body as he breaks the silence.
I scoff, masking the flutter. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. You’re the broody gargoyle here. Lurking in the shadows, watching me.”
Jace’s eyes narrow, his jaw flexing. “I was out here first. So how do I know you didn’t just follow me out here?”
“Trust me, if I knew you were out here, I wouldn’t have come out.”
His blue eyes narrow. A hint of danger glints in them. “You really think new hair and a little makeup makes you irresistible? Please. They’re only humoring you. Desperation still shows.”
Fire flashes through me, white-hot and violent. My blood feels like it’s boiling, searing through every vein. Heating me from the inside out.
“Fuck you, Jace.” I don’t have to stand here and listen to this. I shove past him
“No, fuck you.” Jace eats my strides in two steps, his chest almost brushing against me. “You are the one who came and fucked everything up. You are the one stringing my friends along like little puppies. You are the toy they keep fighting over.”
I stare at Jace in disbelief. “You’re mad that they actually have a brain of their own? That they aren’t blindly following your orders? Maybe the problem isn’t me. It’s you.”
Rage flares across his face, which seems to be the only emotion he can’t mask. He stalks forward, his presence alone pushing me back until I hit a column. His hand braces against the column next to my head. I can feel his warmth. My body reacts to him, and I hate it.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out?” he murmurs, so close his lips are inches away from mine.
“I don’t want to figure you out. I want you out of my face and leaving me alone.”
“Liar.”
My heart slams so hard against my ribs I’m worried it’s bruised. I should shove him away. I should say something, anything. But I don’t move.
His eyes flick over me as his jaw flexes, something conflicted on his face. My tongue brushes along my lips, something coming to life within me I don’t understand. I can’t help the pull I feel toward him, even if he’s a massive asshole.
Jace exhales, rough and angry, stepping back, taking his warmth with him.
“Go back inside, Ashthorne. Before you start something you can’t finish.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, and I can’t help but admire the stance.