ChapterFive
1135 Words
(Jane’s POV)
The elevator hums as it climbs. I stare at my reflection on the mirrored wall. I look like a stranger—silver gown, pinned hair, diamond collar around my throat like a leash. Rose called it jewelry. I call it irony.
My pulse spikes as I reach my destination.
The elevator chimes, and the door opens to a burst of sound and light. Flashbulbs pop. Laughter echoes through the ballroom as the guests exchange pleasantries. The air smells of champagne, money, and deception.
The crowd parts as Jacob steps through. Every camera follows him. His suit is sharp, his eyes colder, and his aura is felt through the gathering.
He reaches for my hand.
“Smile,” he murmurs without looking at me.
I smile. My cheeks ache. The floor seems to tilt under my heels as we move together through the crowd, a perfectly rehearsed illusion.
The crowd whispers as we move.
“Is that her?”
“The new fiancée?”
“She’s not from the old families.”
I catch a few looks—men with smiles too sharp, women with makeup covering their true intentions. I realize I don't belong here.
Rose appears from the crowd beside me and hands me a glass of champagne. “Relax,” she whispers. “You’re doing fine.”
I nod. I take a sip, but I almost let the glass slip away. I catch it on time.
Jacob leans close. “Stay near me.”
“Are you scared that I'll embarrass you?” I whisper back.
“Some of the people here are not human,” he says with strictness all over his face.
His words shake my entire core.
Before I can ask what he meant, an older man steps forward—broad shoulders, grey hair, the kind of aura that makes people obey before complaining.
“Introduce me, son,” he says.
“Father,” Jacob replies. “This is Jane Blackwood.”
He glances at me. “Blackwood? I don’t remember any lineage by that name.”
“I wasn’t aware my birth certificate needed your approval,” I say before I can stop myself.
A few guests choke on their laughter. Jacob’s hand tightens around mine—warning or pride, I can’t tell.
His father smiles and locks eyes with me. “I like your bravery. I pray it doesn’t fade.”
He moves away, engaging the crowd in conversations.
Jacob exhales. “There’s no need for you to provoke him.”
“There’s no need for you to parade me,” I reply.
For a moment, our gazes lock—his guarded, mine burning.
“This is how you pay your debt,” he murmurs.
My instinct tells me to throw the champagne in his face, but I instead, gulp the rest of it.
The night slides by in fragments: speeches, cameras, meaningless applause. I nod when I should, smile when I must. Inside, I’m counting exits.
Then the room darkens, and the music volume goes louder. Couples drift onto the dancefloor, moving in cohesion.
Jacob extends his hand. “Let's get involved.”
“I hate to dance,” I reply.
“Then pretend,” he says.
My palm meets his. His palm is warm, steady, way too steady. We dance together, step for step. I somehow find myself breathing in rhythm with his breath, and it terrifies me.
“You should feel comfortable,” he murmurs.
“You should stop watching every move.”
“I always watch.”
His gaze drops briefly to the silver pendant at my throat, the one covering the faint mark that refuses to fade. “Does it hurt?” he asks.
“It does when you get close or when you're near,” I whisper.
He tries to hide his smile, but I catch it before he straightens his face.
Someone brushes past me—behind me. A man in a dark suit, he reeks of smoke and pine. He leans near enough as he glides past me so that only I can hear him.
“Nice to finally meet you, Moonborn.”
His words make me freeze for a moment.
He's gone before I can turn, swallowed by the crowd.
“Jane?” Jacob’s voice cuts through the noise. “What is it?”
“Uh, it's nothing really,” I reply.
“I know a lie when I see one,” Jacob whispers.
“Maybe I learned from the best.”
His jaw clenches. “Stay close.”
“Am I your puppet or something?”
“No,” he says, “you’re something much rarer.”
The evening continues with more introductions and toasts. Then a waiter drops a glass and screams.
The scent of blood fills the air. Security moves in. People gasp, chaos is about to unfold.
“Stay behind me,” Jacob orders.
“What’s going on,” I ask.
“Rogues,” he mutters. “Too many.”
Jacob grabs my wrist. “We’re leaving.”
We squeeze through the chaos as glass shatters under my feet. Someone calls my name, but it's distorted and sounds unnatural.
By the time we reach the service corridor, the noise behind us is a blur. Jacob slams the door shut and locks it.
My pulse is racing, sweat trickles down my body, and my hands tremble. “Who are those men?”
“They’re here for you.”
I blink. “That’s insane.”
He moves closer, his silver eyes clearer now, no pretense left in them. “You think? You think I don't feel the pull too when the mark gleams?
“I don’t understand, you're confusing me!”
“Yes, you do,” he says, softer now, almost desperate. “Something inside you does.”
The air between us crackles for a moment. He moves closer, his scent fills the space—danger looms I guess.
Then the door behind us shakes with a heavy blow. Once. Twice.
Jacob curses under his breath. “They’ve found us.”
He grabs me again, and before I can free myself, he pulls me toward the emergency stairwell.
“Where are you taking me?” I shout.
“Somewhere much safer.”
Another crash. The lights go out.
Darkness swallows the place whole. Then I see it—a faint shimmer straight ahead, like a curtain made of light.
Jacob drags me through it.
Cold breeze swirls around me. The smell of rain and earth fills the place—a large moon hangs over a forest so vast I can only imagine what’s inside.
I stumble forward, staring at the impossible sky.
“Where have you brought me?” I whisper.
Jacob’s answer is a low growl.
“Welcome to the hidden realm, Jane.”
- Writer
