Page 48 of House of Ydril

But as soon as we turn the corner and find ourselves in the entrance hall, all hell breaks loose. Flashes. People rushing towards us. All of them shoving their microphones in my face and practically yelling, “Miss Longborn!” all at the same time.

I feel Nuala grab me by the upper arm and drag me away from them. As we charge towards the archway leading into the Main Hall, I hear the reporters rushing after me, one woman’s voice managing to drown out the rest. “Can you tell us if it’s true? Are you really the last of the Olarels?”

Nuala pushes me through the archway and we find ourselves in the Main Hall. I turn to see if the reporters are going to follow us, but they’re all walking away. So they’re not allowed inside, I make a mental note to myself.

But when I turn my eyes back onto the Main Hall stretching before me, it’s all I can do not to let out a gasp. There’s a strange mix of classical and club music playing in the background, drowning out the chatter of the guests dressed in the most lavish gray and white outfits I’ve ever seen. My eyes sweep over the snowflakes covering the polished floor and the icicles hanging from the crystal chandeliers. How fitting, I think, falling in love with the Academy just a little. It’s the Winter Solstice Ball and the Main Hall has been transformed into a real-life winter palace.

I turn to smile at Nuala, but just as I see her smiling back, a nervous-looking guy jumps out in front of us. “Whatare you doing?” he hisses at me, at the exact same time he throws me a pleading look and grabs my forearm. “There’s a special entrance for the Chosen. You could get me fired, you know.”

As he leads me out of the Main Hall, I mouth sorry to Nuala. She shrugs her shoulders, laughing as she turns on her heel. Heading for the bar, I presume. I let out a sigh, thinking how much rather I’d just be a spectator tonight. But I have a mission, I remind myself, and that’s the only thing that matters.

By the time the nervous guy leads me to the back door, I’m eyes on the prize once again, even after I hear them all chatting inside. I walk in and find myself in what I can only describe as the backstage. Almost instantly, there’s silence and the eyes of the other eleven Chosen are all on me. Includinghim.

Quick, what do I do, I snap at myself as I take a step forward.

“Good, you’re here,” I hear a woman’s voice and I breathe a sigh of relief when I turn to her and see she’s part of tonight’s staff. “You all need to get ready for the dance,” she says as her eyes sweep over us all. “It’s about to start.”

I open my mouth to ask for an explanation, but she’s already stormed out of the room and I’m left standing there, wondering what the fuck is going on. The others don’t go back to their chatting. Instead, they take positions in front of the curtain before them. I rush to find a spot, pissed that no one fucking told me about the dance.

My eyes dart to Faust. He’s chatting with the Chosen standing next to him, but I don’t care. I stare at him until he notices me throwing daggers at him. For a second, he squints at me. Then he just shrugs, his lip curling into a smile that's barely noticeable. But me, it’s poking me straight in the fucking eye. He did this on purpose.

“I noticed you weren’t there,” I hear a voice from behind my back and I snap my head in its direction to see Leo looking at me intently. “When we met up to discuss the dance. But you’re in luck because I can walk you through it.”

I nod, thankful that someone’s going to explain it to me and not really caring who it is. It’s at that exact moment that I hear a gong, followed by Professor Byrne’s voice welcoming all guests to the 176th Winter Solstice Ball. The crowd claps and cheers, and I feel Leo’s hand wrapping around my waist.

I flinch, but when I turn to face him, the curtain is already up and the lights are practically blinding me. “Now we’re going to do a sort of waltz,” he says as he leads me onto a podium with the rest of the Chosen. The music is much louder now so he has to raise his voice a little. “And after we do a couple of spins like this,” he continues as he shows me, “it’s on to the next partner.”

“So I have to dance withallof the Chosen?” I ask, afraid of the answer because it would mean I have to dance with a certain someone as well.

“Yes,” Leo replies as he lets out a chuckle, but the very next second, I’m out of his arms, falling straight into Harry’s.

I dance with a couple more Chosen and just as I think I might be able to avoid him after all, I turn around to see Faust holding out his hand with a blank face.

For a second, I just stare at him. Then I scoff and turn on my heel, leaving him to stand there.

As the rest of the Chosen start dancing the last round, I hear Professor Byrne on the microphone again, inviting the rest of the party to the dance floor.

I myself am determined to get away, to find Nuala, to try to get some of the Vipers to talk to me. But I don’t even manage to get to the steps leading off the podium, when I feel a presence to my left.

I don’t even have to turn around to know it's him. His smell immediately sends my heart racing. He leans to whisper, “Give me your hand.” His voice is telling me he’s not joking around. “And make sure you’re seen smiling.”

I turn to face him. I allow myself a quick glance around the room, seeing like a gazillion eyes on us. And I don’t want to be an asshole so I give him a fake smile, but I just keep standing. “I’m sorry,” I say, still smiling. “I’m just not in the mood for more dancing.”

A flash of anger crosses his face before he leans in and says, his voice more forceful this time. “Take.My. Hand. And put yours on my shoulder or I promise you’ll regret it.”

“You know,” I hiss at him, remembering at the last second to throw in another fake smile, “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who’dwillinglydance with you. So what the fuck is your problem?”

He scoffs as his eyes sweep the room. His voice is low again when he says, “I don’t know if you’re being spiteful or just plain stupid.”

This makes me want to slap him, but he just keeps talking. “After the articles this afternoon, you seriously expect no one to be reading into it? You refusing to dance with me?”

I grit my teeth, but I nod. I draw in a breath and I give him my hand, almost pulling it back when I feel the rush of electricity at the touch of his skin.

Holy hell, I’m screwed, I think to myself before it even happens. I put my other hand on his shoulder, feeling the hardness of his muscles, at the same time he takes me by the waist. His hand is stiff on my back, as if he’s disgusted to be touching me. Still, I feel my knees give out and a need fill my body. The need to smell him, to press myself against him, to be even closer thanthis. And when he starts spinning me in the rhythm of the music, it all becomes a little too much to bear.

So after a couple of turns around the podium, I make him stop and I pull myself away from him. Breathless and not trusting my voice not to shake, I just bow and walk away.

It’s hard because my body doesn’t want to listen, but I force myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I breathe a sigh of relief once I realize he’s not following me.

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