Dragon Born Luna

CHAPTER 10 The Shift Within

Kiara “Masks are meant to hide — but tonight, they only made it easier to see who people truly were."

The Grand Ballroom of the Wolf Palace didn’t just sparkle. It glowed, pulsed, breathed—like something alive, gilded in gold and lies. It was different from the one used for the Alpha's Banquet held every three weeks. This one was older, grander. Reserved only for nights steeped in history, drenched in blood.

The masquerade ball was held each year to mark the death anniversary of the previous Alpha King. He'd been many things—a tyrant, a strategist, a monster—but above all, he had been theatrical. He’d loved his pageantry. Even his funeral was a performance.

Tonight was no exception.

Gold leaf crawled up every column like molten honey. Crystal chandeliers hung like jagged teeth from the vaulted ceiling, scattering fractured light over a sea of silks and jewels. Velvet drapes in midnight blue and wine-red framed tall arched windows, each flung open to let in the breeze—and the gossip.

The air itself was thick with perfume and pretense. Every laugh held a sharpened edge. Every smile glinted with falsehood.

Masks were mandatory tonight.

Foxes with emerald eyes. Ravens with onyx beaks. Wolves baring silver fangs.

“How fitting,” I thought, adjusting my own mask— feathered, simple and black, the color of midnight, framing my gold-flecked eyes. I’d done my best to hide the dragon in me.

The nobles’ masks might’ve hidden their faces — but they only made their true selves easier to see. The way Lord Durand’s fingers lingered too long on serving girls’ wrists. How Lady Vexley’s smile turned venomous when she thought no one was looking.

A warm hand slipped into mine.

"Stop scowling," Julise murmured, her voice rich with amusement. "We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. And gathering secrets"

I turned—and for a moment, forgot to breathe.

Julise stood bathed in candlelight, her flame-red curls piled artfully atop her head with gold pins shaped like tiny daggers. Her mask was a masterpiece of rose-gold lace and delicate thorns, the edges dusted with something that made it shimmer when she moved. But it was her gown that stole attention—crimson so deep it looked black in the shadows, the bodice cinched tight to emphasize the pale glow of her skin, the sleeves sheer enough to show the constellation of freckles dusting her arms and neck.

She looked like a wildfire given human form.

"Well?" She spun in place, the hem of her gown dancing across the floor. "Do I pass for nobility?"

I adjusted my own mask. It framed my gold-flecked eyes, concealing enough to keep Mira’s identity intact but not enough to hide the glint of wariness beneath.

Then I smiled, reached out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "You put them all to shame."

"Good," she said, looping her arm through mine. "Now let’s go make some wolves uncomfortable.

We stepped onto the main floor. My mask was plain—black feathers fanned at the sides, with a delicate twist of emerald along the edges. My gown matched. Deep emerald silk cut to my collarbone, bodice molded to me like a second skin, back almost non-existent.

Julise leaned in, whispering in my ear. "Okay. Lesson one. To spy, you must know who to spy on. Vanquise Thorn. Right over there. You should have heard rumors about him and how your father left him partly crippled and in need of the cane he now uses"

She nodded to the dais.

An older wolf stood flanked by guards. Stark white hair, scars along his neck. Gold medal on his chest, purple robes the same color as the one I'd seen him in the night before but a gold cane in hand this time.

"Military seat. Same one rumored to have invited and led the Purge."

I knew the name and the face but kept that piece of information to myself.

"And there," Julise pointed with her wine glass, "that’s Lady Kaelen. Half-witch. Economic seat. Keeps to herself."

A tall woman with a sharp face stood near a window, deep blue gown and a wide-brimmed hat hiding most of her mask. Her posture said one thing: power.

"Who’s the one with the veil?" I asked.

Julise sipped. "Thorne Vale. Bloodline keeper. Nobody knows what they look like. Or what they are. They showed up five years ago and started signing executions."

I kept my mask straight. "And that one?"

"Erwin Dace. Controls trade ports up north. Sells favors. Buys secrets. Never trust a man with two rings on his pinky."

We walked casually, never stopping too long. My gaze flicked to every corner, every balcony, every servant who passed.

Julise nudged me again. "See that man trying too hard to look bored? Kier Malen. Underground seat. Goblin blood. Knows everything. Probably has ears in your pillowcase."

"Good to know," I said.

Julise grinned. "We’re almost done. Just don’t look at Zarah too long. She can smell rebellion."

Zarah Venmoor. The new healer rep. Part wolf, part something else. She had kind eyes, but the way she stood—too still, too calm—made me uneasy.

We paused for more drinks.

Across the ballroom, on a raised platform, Ryden Fall stood.

He wasn’t masked.

He didn’t have to be.

Tall, dressed in midnight black with minimal detail. Everything about him was deliberate. Controlled. He wasn’t talking to anyone, but people gathered around him. Trying to be noticed. Trying to get close.

His eyes moved over the crowd.

And stopped.

For a second, I thought he saw me. But I realized his gaze had caught on someone else. A woman in an emerald dress and black feathered mask.

Me.

His brows drew together slightly. Like he recognized something but couldn’t place it.

He took a step forward.A noble intercepted him.

He didn't bother smiling, just nodded.

Another step. Another interruption.

I didn’t stay to see more.

Julise pulled me toward the dance floor.

A noble in a silver-fox mask leered at Julise’s shoulders as we passed.

She snatched his wineglass without slowing her stride.

"Charming," I muttered.

"He’s on the list," she replied, sipping it.

"What list?"

"The one of people who’ll mysteriously choke on their own tongue someday." Her smile was all teeth. "Hayden’s still at the top."

I froze for half a second.

She felt it.

"Don’t look now," she said softly, "but we’ve got company."

I followed her gaze.

Hayden stood near the dais, flanked by nobles and guards, yet separate. Watchful. A shadow in tailored black, his silver-threaded coat gleaming beneath the chandeliers. His mask was a sleek wolf’s muzzle, but it did nothing to hide his sharp jaw or unreadable eyes.

He was still tracking Julise. Still tethered.

She flipped her hair and turned away. Her laugh was too loud. Her eyes, too bright.

"Gods, look at all the opulence," she said beside me. "Makes you want to burn it all down, doesn’t it?"

I raised a brow. "You find luxury offensive?"

"I find it mocking. Come. We’re dancing."

"I don’t dance—"

Too late.

She dragged me into the center of the ballroom. The music shifted into something lilting and fast. Strings and flutes and stomping rhythms. Couples spun like windblown petals.

Julise grabbed both my hands. "Follow my lead."

I tried. Failed.

She stomped on my foot.

"Ow—"

"That one was on purpose."

We laughed.

We spun and twirled, and something loosened in my chest. Her laughter was wild, a storm cracking open the tension in my bones. Around us, the wolves watched, but we didn’t care.

A server passed with a tray of wine.

Julise grabbed two glasses. She drained one and handed me the other.

"Slow down," I warned.

"Why? It’s a party." Her smile frayed at the edges.

She danced with masked dukes, flirted with high-ranking ambassadors, mimicked posh accents until I almost snorted wine through my nose. She was a whirlwind—louder than the music, brighter than the chandeliers.

"I’m fine," she told me when she stumbled near a suit of armor.

"You’re drunk."

"And you're not," she said with a twirl.

By the time the orchestra slowed into a waltz, she was gone.

I found her on the stone bench beside the balcony railing. Her mask was tossed on the ground, forgotten. She was sitting stiffly, wineglass clutched in one hand, a dagger twirling in the other, eyes locked on something in the distance.

“Julise. You’re armed."

"And you’re not?" She said. "Fiona would weep."

I touched the dagger strapped to my thigh. "I came prepared."

She didn’t look at me, just stopped twirling the Dagger, then made it vanish somewhere under her gown and grabbed her wine with both hands now as she took a big sip.

“You left.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Her voice was low. She blinked a few times, slow and heavy, like she was trying not to cry. “I needed air.”

I sat beside her. The wind tugged at her curls. Her jaw was clenched.

"Can I tell you something?" she said suddenly. "And if I say it out loud, can you promise not to look at me different?"

I didn’t answer. I just waited.

She finally turned, eyes rimmed with kohl and something deeper.

“I loved Hayden.” She said it flat. Like ripping off a bandage. “I loved him like a stupid girl loves the first boy who makes her feel seen.”

I stayed still.

“He used to read to me. Old war poems. He’d take me to the tower roof just to look at the stars. Said I had fighter’s hands and soft eyes and a spine made of steel.” She gave a weak laugh. “God, I was sixteen. Thought that meant something.”

“What happened?” I asked, quietly.

She stared down at her wine. “My dad—he was hiding dragons. Not all big ones. Some were kids. Sick. Scared. After the Purge started, no one would help them. But my father still did. Fed them, patched up wounds, let them sleep under our floorboards.”

“And Hayden knew?”

“I told him. I thought I could trust him. I thought—” Her voice cracked, her hand tightened on the stem of the glass and she stopped. “He kissed me the night before. Told me he’d keep us safe.”

Julise wiped her face roughly, but tears were already falling.

“The next morning, guards showed up. Ryden’s father was there. So was Hayden. He didn’t say a word. Just stood there while they dragged my dad out in his nightshirt and slit his throat in front of the village.” I swallowed hard.

“They burned everything. The house. My mother was still inside. I couldn’t find her body after. The dragons, they took them away in chains, over 30 of them, even children. Then I was dragged away. I don't know why I was kept and given a position her. ”

Then came the sound of shattering glass. I reached over and brushed the shards and left over wine away, tore a piece of cloth from my gown and wrapped her hand in it.

“Julise…”

She held up a hand. “I don’t want pity. I want you to know why I don’t let people close anymore. Why I smile too wide and drink too fast and sleep with a knife under my pillow.”

I nodded once. That, I understood.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And I want you to know I’ve never told anyone that before. Just Fiona and she promised she'd help me get my revenge, she told me all about you and she swore you'd help me get my revenge.”

I didn’t speak right away. Just reached out and took her hand gently. “You don’t owe me your past.”

She squeezed back. “No. But I wanted to give it to you anyway.”

We sat there a while, the moonlight turning her skin silver and her tears to glass.

After a while she looked at me, eyes fierce. "Don’t fall for him. Not Ryden. Not Hayden. They are their fathers’ sons."

"You’re on the list now," I said with a nod.

She blinked. "What list?"

"The people I’ll get vengeance for."

She smiled. Fragile. Beautiful.

"Good," she said. "Because if I’m going to keep breathing in this hellhole, I need at least one person who’d burn it down for me.”

I looked her in the eye. “You have me. And I'd do that for you, literally”

And just like that, we weren’t just allies anymore.

We were bonded.

By blood.

By secrets.

And by the same kind of pain you don’t walk away from.

It took an hour to get her back to her room.

She mumbled curses about poisoning shampoo.

I tucked her in. Covered her curls with a shawl. Stepped back—and froze.

The door creaked.

Hayden.

I moved between him and the bed, hand drifting to my thigh knife. "You don’t want to do this."

He looked past me. At her.

"You have no idea what I want," he whispered.

Then he vanished into the dark.

But the warning lingered like smoke.

And my mask never felt heavier.