Arabella's POV
The ball continued in its lavish, hypnotic rhythm. The soft hum of violins and cellos filled the grand hall, wrapping the guests in a trance of elegance and indulgence. The air smelled of aged wine, perfume, and something darker—something untamed beneath the surface.
Vampires moved through the ballroom like predators in fine silk and tailored suits, their masks doing little to hide their nature. Laughter, murmured conversations, the clinking of glasses—it should have been beautiful, mesmerizing.
But I wasn't paying attention.
Not anymore.
I had been talking with Aamon, who had taken great pleasure in mocking the nobles, his smirk never leaving his lips as he whispered dramatic exaggerations of their conversations into my ear.
"See that one over there?" he murmured, til
