Isadora:
The masquerade should have been beautiful. Crimson silk, chandeliers dripping in crystal, an orchestra weaving music like a spell. For a fleeting moment, I had even forgotten the weight that stalked me—the shadows, the whispers, the endless warnings.
But then Lucian snapped.
The crowd split apart like frightened birds, their jeweled masks twisting in shock. He moved with a predator’s precision, fury crackling in the air like a storm. His hand wrapped around Maldric’s throat, and for one dizzying second, I couldn’t breathe either.
I should have looked away. Should have stayed where I was, hidden behind the safety of masks and murmurs. But my body moved before my mind could stop it. My feet carried me toward him. Toward the violence. Toward him.
Lucian’s rage burned so hot it f
