Chapter 2 #2
I freeze. Every muscle locks tight, instinct screaming at me to jerk away, to apologize, to make myself smaller. But when I turn, it's not Darian's face I see. It's a xaphan man, his wings a mottled brown-gray that marks him as common-born. His mask is simple leather, and his smile is anything but.
"Dancing alone?" His fingers tighten just enough that I feel the pressure through my sleeve. "That's a waste of a body like yours."
Heat floods my face. I try to pull back, but his grip holds. "I'm not—I wasn't—"
"Come on." He leans closer, wine thick on his breath. "Don't play coy. That's what everyone's here for, isn't it? Finding someone to spend the night with."
My stomach drops. Spend the night with? What is he talking about? I thought this was a festival.
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else." I tug harder, and this time he lets go, but only to step into my space. His smile widens, showing too many teeth.
"No mistake. You're here, aren't you? Wearing that dress, drinking their wine. You know what this festival is."
"I don't—" The words tangle in my throat. I step back, and he follows. "I'm just here to watch."
"Watch." He laughs, low and ugly. "Right. And I'm here to pray."
Another step back. Then another. My heel catches on the cobblestones, and I stumble, arms windmilling for balance. I expect to hit the ground, to feel stone crack against my spine, but instead I collide with something solid. Someone.
Hands catch my shoulders, steadying me, and a voice rumbles from behind—low and edged with something dark.
"There you are. I was trying to find you."
I go still. The voice doesn't belong to anyone I know. It can't. But the xaphan in front of me stiffens, his smile faltering as his gaze lifts over my shoulder.
"Didn't realize she was spoken for." His hands come up in a gesture of surrender, backing away fast enough that I know whoever's behind me must be someone worth fearing. "Apologies."
He melts into the crowd before I can blink.
I stand there, heart hammering, still held in place by those steadying hands. They're warm through the thin silk of my dress, firm but not harsh. Not cruel. The grip loosens after a moment, giving me the choice to pull away if I want.
I don't.
Instead, I turn.
And look up.
The xaphan behind me is tall—so tall I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
His wings are the first thing I notice, light gray but shot through with cobalt that catches the lantern light like hidden lightning.
They're folded against his back, not spread in display like so many of the others here. Controlled. Deliberate.
His mask is blue, a simple but elegant bird-like creation, covering the upper half of his face and leaving his jaw visible. Sharp cheekbones, a mouth set in a neutral line that could be stern or just cautious. Dark hair tied back at his nape, a few strands escaping to frame his face.
But it's his eyes that pin me in place.
Storm-blue, ringed with gold that flickers in the firelight. They're studying me with an intensity that makes my breath catch, like he's seeing past the mask, past the dress, straight through to something I didn't know I was hiding.
He's beautiful. Not in the way of the other xaphan I've seen tonight—all flash and brilliance and preening. This is different. Sharper. Like a blade honed for a purpose I can't name.
And he doesn't look cruel. Doesn't look like he'd enjoy making someone smaller just to feel bigger himself.
I hope.
"You looked like you needed saving." His voice matches the rest of him—controlled, quiet, but with weight behind every word.
"I did." My own voice comes out steadier than I expect. "Thank you."
He inclines his head, a small gesture of acknowledgment. His hands have left my shoulders, but he's still close enough that I can smell him—leather and something clean, like wind off the mountains. Nothing cloying or sweet. Just… solid.
I should walk away. Thank him again and disappear back into the crowd before he realizes I'm human, before he decides I'm not worth the effort of protecting. But I don't move. Can't. Because standing here, looking up at him, I feel something I haven't felt in years.
Safe.
"I didn't—" I hesitate, then push forward because I need to know. "What did he mean? About everyone being here for the same thing?" To find someone to spend the night with.
His brows draw together, visible even through the mask. "You don't know what the Moon Masquerade is for?"
Heat crawls up my neck. "I know it's a festival. For… for Solas and the moon and—"
"For soulbinding." He says it flat, like he's explaining something obvious to a child. "All the xaphan are here to find the other half of their soul. Or some shit like that."
I blink at him. Then a laugh bubbles up before I can stop it—short and sharp and entirely inappropriate given the situation. But the way he said it, so dismissive and almost irritated, catches me off guard.
His lips quirk. Just a fraction, barely visible, but it's there.
"You're not eager to be here," I say, still fighting the urge to laugh again.
"My sister dragged me." He crosses his arms over his chest, and I notice the way his wings shift with the movement, settling tighter against his back. "She's convinced I'm going to die alone if I don't at least try. I promised to stay for an hour."
One hour. That's all he's giving this festival, this night full of magic and possibility. A night that I've risked everything just to see. And somehow, knowing that makes him feel more real. Less untouchable.
I shouldn't. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to thank him again and leave, to find Mira's zarryn and ride back before I do something stupid. But I'm so tired of listening to that voice, the one that keeps me small and silent and safe from Darian's fists. And not even that.
Just one night. That's all I have. And standing here with this stranger who saved me without asking for anything in return, I want to spend it with him.
"Maybe we can make that hour count," I hear myself say.
His eyes flicker with something I can't name. Surprise, maybe. Or interest. The corner of his mouth lifts a fraction more, not quite a smile but close enough that warmth blooms in my chest.
"I'd like that."