There’s no doubt in my mind that the easiest way into this castle is through the front doors, but my chances are looking more and more slim by the time we reach them. The sun is high in the sky, and I’ve watched dozens of women being sent away through the portal beside the sentries and very few being allowed entry into the castle.
“Good luck,” Pretha whispers as I step forward.
The male by the door has pointed ears and bright blue eyes. He looks me over, shrugs, and waves me inside. I turn back to Pretha. “How will I pay you back for all this?”
She grins. “Oh, I’ll think of something before we meet again.”
As I step inside, another elven faerie takes me by the arm and leads me down a sparkling hallway. I’m dazzled by the crystal chandeliers overhead and the way the light bounces off the shining floors.
I risk a glance over my shoulder to see if my new friend is following, but instead I see an unfamiliar face trailing several paces behind. Has Pretha been sent home? Guilt gnaws at me. After all she did to help me, it’s unfair that I was allowed in and she wasn’t. I should have let her go first—maybe persuaded the guards if they told her to leave through the portal.
“Straight ahead. Enjoy the celebration,” my escort says curtly. Before I can reply, he releases me and heads back the way we came.
I take several steps forward and gasp as I step into a ballroom as big as a square block in Fairscape. Late-morning light floods in from two-story floor-to-ceiling windows, and humans and faeries alike mill all around the shining marble floors. I slowly make my way into the room, merging with the crowd as I study the space.
“Why did she have to send Jasalyn away before she could finish my dress?” a familiar voice whines from somewhere behind me. Cassia.
My heart stumbles into a gallop. No. Please no.
“At least you had something appropriate,” Stella says. “I had to bribe one of the girls at the seamstress for this, and they nearly sent me away without anything.”
Of course Cassia and Stella came to the ball. That was probably why they insisted that Jas make them new dresses. They’re just the kind of idiots who’d believe they could become faerie princesses.
I keep my head bowed and weave my way through the crowd and away from them. I don’t want to consider what will happen if they spot me. They’d do everything in their power to get me thrown out of here, and they’d laugh about it if they knew I was trying to save Jas.
In my rush to get across the ballroom, I bump into a broad male figure. “So sorry. Excuse me.” I don’t look up, but keep walking forward.
“Are you okay?” His voice is deep and melodic. Something tugs in me at the sound, and I can’t resist turning back to him.
My breath catches at the sight of a tall male with light brown skin. This is no simple faerie. He’s stunning. His dark hair hangs to his angular jawline in a shaggy mop of curls. His silver eyes glow like moonlight and are framed by thick, dark lashes. If he were a human, I’d guess him to be in his early twenties, but there’s something about his posture and the hard lines of his face that make him seem much, much older. His full, lush mouth tilts in a frown as he studies me, then offers a hand. “A dance, milady?”
“What? No.” I have to stay focused. I don’t need this gorgeous fae male distracting me.
His eyes widen, as if he’s never been rejected before. With those looks, I wouldn’t be surprised. “Then perhaps a walk in the gardens?”
“Back off. I’m not interested in—”
The sound of my cousins’ laughter approaches, and I peek over my shoulder to see them coming closer.
“Fine. Let’s dance,” I blurt, shoving my hand into his.
His lips twitch, but he accepts my hand and leads me onto the dance floor. “It would be my pleasure.”
From a stage at the front of the room a full orchestra plays a heart-rending melody. The song isn’t one I’ve ever heard, but it makes my limbs ache to match the rhythm, to move with the beat.
The male I’m dancing with holds my gaze as he leads me across the floor. Chandeliers glitter above us, orbs of light floating on a soft breeze. Something about the dance—about the way we sway together—reminds me of how free I feel when I move through the dark. It’s relaxing and intoxicating all at once. It’s a high I don’t want to let go. And when he studies my face and whispers, “So beautiful,” I can’t remember a single worry.
The song changes, and another faerie cuts in, taking my hand before the silver-eyed male can lead me off the floor.