9. Silas
Silas
The club had never looked more alive.
Gold foliage swallowed the dark walls, layered with textures that caught the lights.
Taya had done well choosing the silver accents that bled through what darkness was left.
The color had been meticulously placed, swirling in strategic strokes and lining the mirror fragments embedded into the centerpieces.
The prominent shades were picked to match the chandeliers now hanging between the suspended cages—a fixture that dripped with thick black crystals.
A dancer now occupied each of the custom-forged shapes that hung overhead. Outside, the metal was decorated with curling filigree, making the whole thing look like an art piece. Both swayed with the beat, giving glimpses of the painted bodies moving inside them.
The silk performer was stationed at the central beam of the room, already at the beginning of her performance. Each time the spotlight hit, and those silks unraveled from the rafters, the entire floor tilted up to watch, regardless of what they were in the middle of.
The final touches had elevated the club into something worthy of damnation.
It wasn’t just the rooms or the experience, we decided to upgrade the masks as well—a privilege that was only for tonight's celebration.
The edges of each one were elongated into elegant points, their surfaces lacquered in midnight finishes or dusted with metallic sheen.
Some bore delicate etchings that only revealed themselves when the light struck just right.
Then there were specific accents chosen for each one.
Dark chains draped from the corners of the Dominants, swaying softly as their wearers moved.
Diamonds glittered along the stitching of the Volunteers.
Fishnet veils covered the foreheads of the Watchers, accompanied with silver swirls on their cheekbones.
Even the one I wore, the one that marked me as the owner, had been lined with purple light.
Each one caught my attention as they passed, but my focus kept drifting to the one specific person who still hadn't arrived.
My gaze cut through the crowd from my balcony, where I’d moved for a better view. I kept scanning the floor, unable to stop. The music throbbed, but it did nothing to settle the restless edge creeping under my skin. The masquerade had started an hour ago, and my photographer had yet to show up.
Even without seeing her face, I'd know the moment she arrived. As annoying as it was, I had memorized the energy she gave off, I could feel it a mile away. Like the air adjusted when she walked through it.
I checked my watch for the twentieth time and let out a frustrated growl, debating on just calling her. My fingers flexed at my side as irritation sharpened into something more dangerous. Reaching for my phone, I formed her name in my mind. Just then, a bright shade of yellow stole my attention.
The flash of color hit my peripheral vision like a strike of lightning. Instantly, I turned my head to the east corner of the room and saw her standing with a group of people. I wasn’t sure what irritated me more—the fact that she hadn’t been hiding from me or the fact she wasn’t looking for me.
The dress she wore fit like it had been made exactly for her.
The color, a multi-layered yellow that mimicked the one she’d worn when I first met her.
I knew she had chosen that outfit on purpose, just to rile me.
I didn't dwell on that for long. My attention instead shifted to something else she was wearing—a Volunteer mask.
I hadn’t noticed it at first. While taking pictures, her camera and arms hid most of the design, but now she was standing still, and I could see her face.
Now, everyone could see the blaring message that apparently, she was available to play with.
A slow, possessive heat settled low in my chest as I watched her direct members of my club with a confidence that made me bite my tongue.
It was as if she belonged in this chaos far more than she should have.
I bit down harder as the first man approached her. The metallic taste of blood spread across my tongue as my eyes locked on their exchange. He leaned in too close, saying something I couldn’t hear over the music. She gave a small, professional laugh and lifted her camera again.
The second man came only minutes later, followed by a third.
Each time, my grip tightened on the railing as something feral clawed its way out of me.
By the time the fifth man appeared at her side, I moved to the stairs, barely able to control myself.
Walking toward her, the number had already moved to eight.
Eight men in total, drawn by curiosity and the way she existed so fully in her element.
It was a miracle none of them had touched her yet.
According to my rules, she would have to obey, to listen—which meant these men had approached, but none had propositioned her. Yet.
Mine.
I reached her just as the ninth man did, my eyes snapped to his hand, where a tattoo marked his skin. I recognized it immediately. This was one of our usuals, one that came here often with a preference for obedience so deep, it bordered on obsession.
My body moved before my thoughts could finish forming, and I closed the space between us. Just as I reached her, his fingers intimately brushed her shoulder.
I turned to her, making my voice deliberately louder than it needed to be. “Your membership here has been revoked,” I said, my voice cutting sharp through the music. “You need to leave.”
She turned toward me waving her camera. “I don’t have a membership. I’m here to work, remember?”
The man I’d been watching just moments ago, leaned in and grabbed her elbow. “I’d like to enter a contract before you leave.”
Ember looked at him, tilting her head as if she didn’t understand.
Of course she didn’t.
I stepped fully between them and yanked his arm away from her. “She is no longer a member,” I said coldly. “Which means she cannot accept.”
The bass pulsed around us as my adrenaline rose, the moment between us stretching thin.
I calculated how quickly I could end this, taking notice of everyone surrounding us.
My muscles coiled at the ready, but to my surprise, he looked at me at once before turning away.
I watched him until he disappeared back into the crowd, just to make sure his decision was genuine.
I turned back to face Ember feeling a sharp impact against my shoulder.
“What the hell was that?!” she snapped.
I looked down at her slowly, letting my pent-up fury meet hers. Closing the gap between us, I held her gaze. “What the hell is that mask, Ember?” My voice dropped to a dangerous level. “Do you even know what you’re doing—what you’re saying to everyone here?!”
She recoiled, letting out a sharp, disgusted sound directed straight at me.
Hearing that come out of her mouth lit up every nerve in my body, and red bled into my vision.
It’s time for her first lesson. The thought disappeared as my body moved on auto pilot.
I bent down and hoisted her over my shoulder in one swift motion.
She screamed out at the touch, clutching her camera and securing it against her chest before it could fall. “Hey! Put me down, asshole!”
I locked my arms around her, ignoring her kicks and twists.
Maneuvering her legs, I pinned them so she couldn’t hurt anyone as I carried her through the crowd and up the stairs.
Masks turned, and whispers followed us, but no one said anything, and I realized why—it was my mask.
That’s why no one tried to stop me. That was why the man from earlier left without a fight. They knew I was the owner.
Halfway up the stairs, I caught Kyrin’s gaze through the crowd. He’d witnessed everything and moved quickly to follow us as I jerked my chin up toward my office.
Once inside, she only fought harder. Adjusting my grip, I heard the door click shut behind me.
Kyrin entered just as I set her down. She spun immediately, her fist aimed toward my face.
I caught her wrist, spinning and pressing her chest against the wall.
I stepped in close until I was pushing into her back.
I wanted her to be scared of what could happen.
I needed her to understand, to feel my presence caging her in.
I lowered my mouth to her ear, deliberately clipping my voice. “You are not allowed to wear any mask besides that of a Watcher.” I pressed into her harder, pulling a small grunt from her as I flattened her against the wall. “Better yet—you are not allowed to return here at all.”
She scoffed beneath her mask, the sound sharp and fearless. Somehow, it only fed my need to tame her. Gripping her arms, I swung her around and placed her back against the wall. Taking both her wrists, I pinned them above her head and watched her pulse start to escalate in her throat.
I swallowed down the exhilaration she was giving me and forced myself to stay calm. Breaking her would take time, and multiple efforts, but that process would be starting right now. She was no longer allowed to do whatever the fuck she wanted, and I would make sure of it.
Lowering my forehead to hers, our masks met with a soft clink. “Do you really want to experience being a Volunteer?” I asked quietly. “Or did you show up in that mask just to piss me off?” My voice was a hardened replica of my normal one, but even this low, it came out absolute.
I tightened my grip for a moment, deciding to release her and take a step back.
In the foot of space now between us, I presented her with just enough room to think she could run.
If I were smart, I would use this space as an opportunity to retrain certain parts of her, but right now, that was not what I wanted—not yet, anyway. Tonight, I wanted to test her fire.
“Take your dress off.”