Page 77 of When Day Breaks

"And if it's any consolation, no one will miss Viktrum. He treated his wife like trash and his erasure does not diminish what we're doing tonight. He wasn't working alone and while the motive remains unknown, we have to put a stop to whomever is doing this."

"Maybe Viktrum was the one compelling Travois after all," she adds. "Seeing as only a Royal could do that. Which means hopefully he's safe tonight."

"Hopefully," I agree with her as I pick her up by her arms and seat her on top of the vanity.

I lean down for her shoes and lift one foot at a time to my chest. She watches me with lust in her eyes and bated breath as I lace up her gold heels.

"Do you really think Ameliana is dead? I mean…" She pauses to chew on her bottom lip, most likely thinking about the brief memory of her mom.

She blows out a deep exhale before finishing, "She felt and sounded so real. How could someone fake that?"

"That's an answer that hopefully awaits us at the end of whatever mystery we're going to solve tonight," I speak to her as I grab her other foot.

"You sound optimistic," she implies.

I drop her feet, shoes ready to go, and help her back up. She grips onto my shoulders for support and we both let the tension between us settle for a moment. There's still so much left to say. But the only thing worth saying is the notion that curls deep into my soul.

"You've awakened me, Lucynda," I confess. Her lips part, and I can tell she also has a confession. She might feel like the pressure is on her to repeat the words I spoke to her yesterday, but I am not pressured for her to say them. I know how she feels. And she knows how I feel. And it's unfeigned.

Understanding flits between us and I hold out my hand for hers. "Are you ready?" I ask her.

She takes my hand and smiles at me, the twinkle in her eye never losing its sparkle.

"Only if you are."

And with that, we head for the Gilded Hollow.

Everything seems to be going according to plan. Kacian made sure that we got as many Nocturnes as possible to the party while we left a few guards back to keep watch on the rest of those who didn't come out.

Everyone is adorned in their masks, and Outsiders and Nocturnes mingle while they dance and drink their night away.

The focus rooms on the second floor are occupied and voyeurs crowd the hallway. The bar is stocked full of whatever anyonemight need for their enjoyment, and everyone seems to be having a good time.

Lucynda and I are separated, not that anyone won't know who we are, masked or not, but we split up in hopes to have better coverage on the place. The plan is to listen for any whispers and keep our eyes open to any strange behaviors. We're two hours in and so far, nothing has been out of the ordinary.

I look up at the deck to lay eyes on my wife. She looks stunning in her autumn-colored dress, hitting just above her knees. The blood diamond on her ring fingers glistens against the club lighting and it makes me feel territorial at how ravishing she looks adorned by the promise of our marriage.

She looks around the space below her as she grips the railing. She doesn't spot me like I hope she does, eager for her eyes on mine, before someone approaches her side.

Travois.

She doesn't cower from his presence or seem too bothered by it, and before I can let my mind wander too much about what he's attempting to talk to her about, I pull my attention elsewhere.

Troian seems to be holding off on her flirtatious adventures for the night, focusing on anyone who is acting suspiciously instead. She's dodging the likes of seedy Outsiders whom we only invite as a gift to our thirsty vampires. Once we're done with them, we compel them to forget, throw them out, just to invite them again for the next one.

Troy moves about, making sure her eyes are open through the slits of her black matte mask, but then, a female with a yellow glittered mask approaches her. Tapping her on the shoulder, she gets Troy's attention. She turns to face the partygoer and seems friendly with her.

I don't want to pry too much, seeing as this could be a personal connection, but I can't help but let my curiosity bloom. My sisterdoesn't seem to have many secrets I fancy knowing. Though I'd say one of her hobbies in particular does scream questionable morals, she's only helping the world with her self-appointed vigilantism.

I zero in on this specific interaction, seeing the two exchange some kind of flirty chatter before the mask of the woman in yellow comes off.

It's Birdania.

Fury swarms me, and I nearly crush the glass in my hand at the sight.

What the fuck is my sister doing with my ex-fiancé?Surely, she wouldn't willingly fraternize with someone so vile.

I feel the sudden heat of a glare wash over me and I trace the feeling back over to where my wife now looks down on me.

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