CHAPTER TEN — The Devil’s Ballroom
1011 Words
(Seraphina’s POV)
By sunset, the mansion transformed.
Not physically.
It was already beautiful in the kind of way poison can be beautiful, but the atmosphere changed.
The air itself felt heavier and charged, like the house was preparing to feed.
Servants moved quickly through the halls carrying trays of wine, crystal glasses, silver platters stained faintly red beneath candlelight.
No one explained anything to me.
No one needed to.
I already understood.
Tonight wasn’t a party.
It was a marketplace.
And somewhere beneath the elegance…
People were going to suffer.
A knock sounded at my door.
“Enter.”
Two women stepped inside carrying a long black dress, silk and elegant, far too beautiful for something meant to feel like a leash.
“Lord Michael requested this for you,” one of them said quietly.
Of course he did.
I stared at the dress for a moment before taking it.
The fabric felt soft, expensive and controlled wrapped in luxury against my finger.
Once they left, I changed slowly.
The black silk clung to my body like liquid shadow, the slit along my thigh revealing more skin than I was comfortable admitting.
When I looked in the mirror…
I no longer resembled a nun.
Good.
Because Sister Seraphina was beginning to disappear anyway.
A knock sounded again.
This time, when the door opened…
It was Lucien Draven.
And for the first time since meeting him…
He looked caught off guard. His gaze moved over me once, then immediately away.
Interesting.
“You’re staring,” I said lightly.
“I’m regretting Michael’s decision.”
I smirked slightly.
“About the dress?”
“About involving you.”
There was tension in his voice tonight.
Sharper than usual.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“You shouldn’t go downstairs.”
“Little late for that warning.”
“I’m serious.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“The people attending tonight are dangerous.”
“I’m surrounded by vampires,” I replied dryly. “I figured that part out already.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Something in his expression shifted.
Darkened.
“Some monsters,” he said quietly, “don’t need fangs to be cruel.”
A chill crawled down my spine.
Human clients.
Powerful men.
The kind protected by wealth and influence.
Suddenly Elara’s letters felt even heavier in my memory.
“They buy girls from him,” I whispered.
Lucien didn’t answer.
Which was answer enough.
Rage twisted inside me so violently I almost lost control of it.
“Then tonight is perfect,” I said coldly.
His jaw tightened.
“You’re planning something.”
“Aren’t you?”
Silence.
There it was again.
That invisible wall between us.
Secrets.
Pain.
History.
But before either of us could speak again—
The door opened.
Lord Michael entered without knocking.
And the room instantly belonged to him.
His gaze found me immediately.
And stilled.
For the first time…
The calm expression he wore so effortlessly cracked slightly.
Not much.
Just enough.
Interest.
Real interest.
“You look stunning,” he said softly.
The compliment should have sounded charming.
Instead, it felt dangerous.
“Is that why you dressed me like this?” I asked.
“To display you?”
Lucien’s eyes darkened instantly.
But Michael only smiled faintly.
“You assume I share easily.”
The meaning behind the words settled heavily in the room.
Possessive.
Again.
Michael stepped closer slowly.
His gaze never leaving mine.
“You’ll stay beside me tonight,” he said quietly.
“Why?”
“Because people notice beauty.”
“And?”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“I enjoy watching them realize they cannot touch what they want.” The words should have disgusted me. Maybe they did.
But beneath the revulsion…
Something else stirred.
Power.
Because he wasn’t offering me to them.
He was denying them access.
And in a twisted place like this…
That meant something.
Lucien suddenly stepped forward.
“She doesn’t understand your world.”
Michael’s eyes flickered toward him lazily.
“She learns quickly.”
“And if she becomes a distraction?”
The room went still.
Michael’s gaze sharpened dangerously.
“Careful, Lucien.”
Tension crackled instantly between them.
Sharp enough to cut.
I looked between both men carefully.
This wasn’t just disagreement. This was years of buried conflict.
Lucien’s voice lowered.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Michael smiled slowly.
“That sounds suspiciously emotional.”
For the first time…Lucien looked genuinely furious and suddenly I understood something important.
Michael was provoking him on purpose.
Why?
Before I could think deeper about it, Michael turned back toward me.
“Come,” he said softly, offering his hand.
I stared at it for one long second then placed my hand in his.
Cold.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
His fingers curled around mine gently.
Possessively.
And beside us, I felt Lucien go completely still.
Good.
Let him feel something for once.
Michael guided me from the room.
Through endless dark hallways.
Toward music, voices and laughter.
The ballroom doors opened and suddenly…
I understood the true scale of this nightmare.
Dozens of people filled the grand hall.
Wealthy men.
Elegant women.
Powerful figures draped in luxury and diamonds.
Some humans.
Some definitely not.
And every single one of them looked at Michael with either fear…
Or respect.
The music continued softly as we entered.
But conversations slowed.
Eyes shifted toward us.
Toward me.
I felt it instantly.
Attention.
Assessment.
Desire.
Like stepping into a room full of predators.
Michael leaned slightly closer to me.
“Smile,” he murmured near my ear.
“Why?”
“Because they’re trying to figure out what you are to me.”
I looked up at him slowly.
“And what am I?”
His gaze darkened.
Then—
A slow smile curved his lips.
“That,” he whispered, “depends entirely on you.”
And across the ballroom…
I saw Lucien watching us from the shadows.
His expression, unreadable.
But his eyes…
His eyes never left me.
- Writer
