Chapter 5: Behind Closed Doors
1063 Words
Airen hadn’t meant to keep the handchain. It happened almost without thought. Nilah’s nervous fingers kept brushing over it as if it were armor, and when she reached for her glass he’d covered her hand with his. Smooth, unhurried, his thumb found the clasp and, with a twist only he noticed, the chain slipped loose.
The emerald stones glimmered faintly against his palm, colder than they should’ve been. He hadn’t returned it. Didn’t know why. Something about it felt… significant.
Nilah hadn’t even realized it was gone.
He tucked it into his pocket just as Zahn’s voice pressed sharp into his mind. There’s a problem. Daniel, again. You’d better see this.
Airen’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need the interruption, at least not tonight. Especially not with Nilah standing so close, her eyes unsettled, her breath steady but shallow like she was bracing herself against invisible weight.
Still, duty gnawed. He straightened, his face unreadable. “Excuse me,” he said, the words clipped, final.
Nilah blinked. “Oh—” She stopped herself, confusion flickering across her features. But before she could ask, before he could second-guess, he turned and was gone into the currents of the gala.
Nilah’s heart stumbled. One moment his presence was solid beside her, heavy enough to anchor the room, the next he was gone as if he’d never been there. She blinked, half expecting him to reappear, but the crowd swallowed him.
Her hand lifted to her wrist out of habit and froze. The chain. Her mother’s chain. It wasn’t there.
Panic pricked her chest. She spun lightly, scanning the room. Had it fallen? No. Impossible. She never removed it.
Her gaze snagged on movement at the far end of the ballroom. Zahn. She recognized him from earlier, always hovering near Airen with the efficiency of someone who could disappear in a breath. But now he wasn’t just hovering. He was moving fast, too fast, his usual calm replaced by urgency. He slipped through a door half-hidden behind velvet curtains.
Nilah’s pulse quickened. Airen. He had her chain. Zahn knew where he was. Without thinking, she stepped forward—
“Nilah.”
Her name cracked like a whip.
She turned. Her father’s voice, sharp and cold, cut through the glitter and music. He was there, towering over her, his mouth pulled into a scowl that carried years of disdain.
“You dare show your face here,” he said.
Her stomach tightened. “I didn’t come for you.”
“You walked out on me after all I’ve done—”
“All you’ve done?” she snapped, louder than she meant. A few heads turned. “All you’ve done is remind me I’m nothing to you.”
His face darkened, and for a moment she thought he might strike her, right there in front of everyone.
“Now, now,” Melinoe’s voice slid between them like oil, smooth and sweet. Her stepmother’s hand brushed his sleeve, soothing, a mask of gentleness stretched over malice. “This isn’t the place. People are watching.”
“Stay out of this,” he hissed.
Nilah lifted her chin, fire hot in her chest. “Don’t bother. I’m not here to make a scene. I just want what’s mine.” She glanced at her bare wrist, her voice cracking despite her fight. “But of course, you wouldn’t understand that. You never gave it to me in the first place.”
Her father stiffened, nostrils flaring. But before he could answer, Melinoe touched his arm again. “Let her go,” she murmured. “The spotlight’s not for her anyway.”
Nilah turned, unwilling to give them the last word. She pushed into the crowd, her breath tight. She didn’t want to cry. Not here. Not because of him.
Her eyes caught the curtained doorway Zahn had slipped through.
Something inside urged her forward.
The door should’ve been locked. Heavy oak, metal-lined, with a handle that resisted even her weight. But when she touched it, just touched, the latch clicked open like it had been waiting.
Her breath hitched. She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting someone to stop her, to demand what she thought she was doing. No one did.
The air beyond was colder. Quiet, too quiet, compared to the muffled hum of the gala. Her heels echoed faintly against stone. She followed the narrow corridor, heart hammering.
A sound ahead, too fast, too sharp to be human.
She pushed forward until the hall widened, spilling her into a chamber that should not have existed in the bowels of a ballroom.
And froze.
The room breathed danger.
Chandeliers dripped golden light over velvet drapes, a mirrored bar, and couches sprawled like thrones. But it wasn’t the luxury that stole her breath. It was the people.
No, not people.
They were beautiful, unnervingly so, lounging with predatory grace. Men and women with eyes too sharp, movements too fluid. A famous actor slouched with a lazy grin, his wrist bleeding faintly where a girl’s lips pressed hungrily. Another woman laughed, fangs glinting, as crimson dripped down her chin and onto her collarbone.
The scent hit Nilah next. It wasn't perfume, not wine, but something iron-sweet, heavy, wrong. Blood.
Her knees threatened to buckle.
And then she saw him…, Airen.
Seated in the center as if the room bent around him. Not just a chair, a throne. His posture was calm, his expression unreadable, but power radiated off him in waves. He was watching. Waiting.
At his feet, chaos.
Daniel blurred, faster than her eyes could follow, slamming another man across the room with a speed that shattered the air itself. They moved like predators uncaged, too quick, too violent, their snarls vibrating through the chamber.
Nilah’s hand gripped the doorframe. Her breath caught. This wasn’t possible. This wasn’t real.
Someone noticed her. A woman with crimson-stained lips tilted her head curiously, eyes flicking to Nilah’s bare wrist. Her smile curved, sharp and knowing. “How did she get in?”
Nilah couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe.
Airen’s gaze finally lifted.
It locked onto hers across the room.
For a heartbeat, the world silenced.
She was supposed to run. She knew that but she couldn’t. Not with his eyes holding hers, not with something in her chest telling her that whatever she’d just walked into, whatever he was had already chosen her.
- Writer
