Chapter 23 Nyx #2
The Great Hall has been transformed when we arrive, walking up the marble steps like some sort of fairy tale.
Except this is more like the Monster Mash instead of Cinderella.
From the shadow of my hood, the dark opulence of the room glitters in the darkness as more and more students file in.
I recognize a few despite their masks as I scan the room.
Brandt is near the head table, talking with Headmaster Church and some other members of the faculty.
Tori loops her arm around mine and ushers me through the throng of costumed students, while Brynne grabs a drink off a catering server and hands it to me.
“God, it’s like trying to give a cat a bath. Drink this, and if you’re still freaking out I have a couple of blunts in my dress.”
“Where the hell did you put them? I can see your freaking belly button.”
“Pockets,” she whispers gleefully, slipping her hands into the tulle skirt of her dress.
“Evie!” Tori calls out, and the crowd parts to reveal her talking animatedly with two other women who turn when they spot us.
“Vanna! Nikki! You guys look beautiful,” she gasps, pulling them into a group hug while Brynne and I stand back.
I down my drink—bubbly champagne that tastes so good it’s ruined me for any other kind—and grab another off a nearby server.
“Guys, you remember Brynne? And this is Nyx.” She gestures to us. Brynne waves her fingers and I pull my hood back just enough for them to actually see my face. “Nyx, these are our older sisters, Vanna and Nikki.”
Their polite smiles don’t reach their eyes.
“You’re the one the Council picked up?” Vanna asks bluntly as we appraise each other.
Her light blue eyes contrast harshly with her blonde hair that’s shaved on one side, revealing a silver spiked ear cuff.
The shoulders of her cream-colored suit are embellished with silver epaulettes, and when she turns to hear whatever Nikki whispers, I see embellished angel wings that run down the back.
Nikki’s wearing a sheer, hooded, glittering, white dress with a train that flows out behind her like waves on the shore and her long, tousled blonde braids cascade down her chest which has been dusted with some type of pearlescent powder.
Something about their scrutiny makes my spine stiffen. “Yep. Good times,” I say in a deadpan tone and Evie snickers.
“She’s the one I helped Brandt with a couple weeks ago.” Vanna nods in understanding, but it’s Nikki who responds next, incredulous.
“Did you actually channel? I thought Evie might be exaggerating like she usually does—”
“Hey!”
“—but then Felicity was bitching about it to anyone who would listen.”
“Has it happened again?” Vanna asks before I can respond.
With a side glance to Tori—because this is starting to feel awfully reminiscent of when she introduced me to her friends—I shake my head and lie.
“Just the once.” She hums, eyes never leaving mine even as she sips her drink, and a shiver runs down my spine from the unsettling impression she knows I’m hiding the truth.
“Will you knock it off?” Tori interjects. “It’s a party, not an interrogation.”
Nikki looks me up and down, “Are you going to the bonfire later? You might enjoy being around your own kind.”
My eyebrow crooks. “My own kind?”
She smiles, but it still doesn’t reach her eyes. “Other witches, since you don’t have a coven.”
Brynne comes to my rescue with another glass that she shoves into my hand.
“Of course! It’s her first Samhain. Don’t worry, we’ll show you how to properly celebrate.
” She says as I down whatever’s in my glass.
When I open my eyes again, it’s to see the Heirs—Roth leading the way with Thane at his side while Killian and Luther bring up the rear—striding into the Great Hall like they own the place, and well…
fuck. I guess they basically do. The crowd parts for them with a mixture of fear and adoration, but that’s not why my chest tightens.
I’m relieved to see Thane looking better than he did the last time I saw him.
In his suit, he looks more like the version I met by the lake—hardened and cold.
Sharp. The top button of his white shirt is undone, revealing pale skin decorated with dark tattoos crawling up his throat.
Roth, in contrast, is a hunter stalking whatever unlucky prey didn’t flee quickly enough.
His black eyes sweep the expansive room, decisive and calculating, and I’m grateful the hood of my cape hides my face—that he can’t see me doing the same to them.
Killian’s practically bouncing as he talks at Luther, who looks bored already.
I turn my back on them and listen in from the edge of the group as the four Hektreia sisters bicker and squabble about God knows what, and Brynne eagerly follows the volleyed insults and barbs like a tennis match.
I’m halfway through my fourth glass of champagne when my phone vibrates from where I’ve stashed it in a hidden pocket of the cape Maeve sewed in.
Ramsey Mondragon
ready to see something cool?
I look up, trying to spot him. I can’t imagine he’s in some feathered abomination like what some of the other men have chosen as costumes.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he just waltzed in wearing a pair of comfy sweatpants that I’d be immediately jealous of.
As beautiful as this dress is, I would really prefer my jeans and high tops.
“Holy shit,” Evie gasps, and I turn to follow her gaze as the others catch on.
“What is it?” I ask, but their eyes are glued to the monstrous figure ducking through the massive doors to the Great Hall. With every step, more people scatter until I can finally see what’s got everyone’s panties in a twist.
“Have you ever seen a partial shift like that before?” Tori asks Vanna, who shakes her head.
“What’s a—” I begin to ask, but then the shadows move, and my blood chills.
It’s Ramsey, I think. Except now he has horns.
And claws. And wings. He stops suddenly and scents the air, inhaling deeply before turning those slitted eyes on me.
My heart begins to race as he makes his way towards us, until at last he’s within arms reach.
And then I blurt out the first thought that crosses my mind as the world holds its breath.
“My, what big teeth you have.”
His deep growl makes those around us take a step back, but I only smile when a hint of said teeth flashes in the light.
“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” he growls, his breath coming out in a wave of hot smoke. I cover my mouth to stop the laugh that threatens to escape when the now-familiar voice of his dragon responds, but the collective gasp coming from every corner of the room breaks my composure.
“You’re scaring the shit out of everyone,” I whisper. This close, the rumbling of his chest when he chuckles sounds like someone’s cold starting an engine as he looms over me.
“Are you scared?”
I bite my lip, and shake my head. “I probably should be, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, remind me to be scared tomorrow.”
“As you wish.”
“So... now what?” I ask, glancing around as the weight of everyone’s attention begins to make my skin crawl. For a split second, Killian and I lock eyes from across the room before I turn my attention back to the monster in front of me.
“Follow me,” he orders. His heavy footfalls echo against the marble floors as he leads us towards the back of the Great Hall where a wall of windows has been opened to reveal a patio of some kind.
“Oh,” I pause, suddenly remembering my friends, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.
” Brynne distracts a very concerned Tori, while Evie, Nikki, and Vanna lean in and talk amongst themselves.
I have to hurry to catch up with Ramsey and not trip over my own feet as I watch the way his wings sway with each step.
I wanna touch ‘em.
And I’m just drunk enough to risk being turned into a kebob-formerly-known-as-Nyx to ask.
“What do they feel like?” I venture when we pass the threshold and shiver in the cold October air as it descends on us.
He leads me far enough away from prying eyes, but close enough to still hear the cacophony of conversation resume inside, no doubt the majority of them are placing bets on how long it’ll take for him to eat me or something.
They flare out wide, snapping taut to reveal millions of pebble-like scales that reflect the moonlight, dancing and glittering in the dark.
“Not as heavy as you’d think,” he responds with his normal voice, turning slowly until we’re face to face. His eyes rake down my dress, dilating slowly in the dim light. “Nice dress.”
My cheeks heat despite the chill. “It has a cape.”
“I can see that,” he smirks, pulling at the jagged scar that usually drags his lip down.
It’s impossible to miss the five deep lines scored into his face, but I’ve never considered him disfigured like Killian “joked” about.
I look at him and I see someone like me—someone who survived whatever hell he’s gone through to get here.
“You have a nice smile,” I murmur, realizing too late that I’ve lost not only my sense of self-preservation but also tact when he blinks rapidly and takes a step back.
When I reach out to stop him, I accidentally grab his wing instead of his arm and he freezes, spine stiffening.
“Sorry,” I grimace and let go, despite how much my fingers miss the brief warmth of that soft skin.
When he starts breathing heavy, I take a step back but his deep growl stops me.
“Don’t,” he grits out.
“Okay,” I say softly. I watch him as he wrestles with… whatever it is he’s wrestling with. After a few minutes, I break the strained silence. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you or anything. Promise.”