Page 70 of Satanic Shadow
Poppy grins at me. “I’ll paint your nails and braid your hair.”
“Sounds great,” I mutter as we walk through the large double doors into the ballroom.
All three of us stop walking and take in our surroundings. The hall is large with a high ceiling, excessively decorated with black and white roses, thousands of candles to light the place up, and the middle of the room has been completely cleared of anything—our dance space. It’s gothic, dark, yet beautiful.
Soft music is playing from nowhere, and the cult studies professor and Dane’s mother are dancing, showing another class a routine everyone has to do during the ball.
I can feel eyes on us from every angle as we make our way to our gathering class. Orsen winks at Mel, who rolls her eyes, and Poppy gives Brandt a smile, which he returns. Dane is staring at his shoes with a scowl, probably thinking I’m going to step all over them and ruin their shine.
If I hadn’t realized how different the twins were the moment I met them, the way they’re looking at this room would tell me exactly that. Poppy’s eyes have lit up, her smile growing as shetwirls in circles and claps in excitement. Mel grimaces at her sister, regarding the decorations and the music with distaste.
Maybe if bodies were hanging from the ceiling in shackles, butchered and skinned alive, and blood smeared on the wall, with the added extra of Orsen in chains and naked, she would be as excited as Poppy. I should be scared of Mel. She’s evil. She even looks evil. But for some reason, we’re good friends.
I trust her, even though she could kill me without even blinking.
“You’re coming to my room tonight,” Orsen tells Mel, taking her waist and pulling her to him.
She grabs his throat and shoves him back. “No thanks.”
But the way they’re regarding each other, there’s no doubt she’ll be in his bed by midnight. I hope I don’t receive any nudes or video clips of them fucking.
She did say she wanted to show me how big he gets while she’s sucking him off, but I kindly declined. I might actually block her and not tell her.
Dane—his back to me—is talking to a student with long blonde hair. I know she’s attracted to him, her red eyes matching her latex outfit. She giggles at whatever he says, and I imagine her body in pieces, drained of blood, and set on fire.
Maybe I’ll carve out her eyeballs and shove them up her—
Calm down.
I grit my teeth.I am calm.
Dane turns, dismissing the girl, and quickly gives me a strange look I haven’t seen before, almost as if he’s concerned. As if he wants to come over here and ask if I’m okay. I can feel it somehow. I can feel his anxiousness—that he wants to walk over here and sweep me away from everyone. It’s quite a strong need too. I tilt my head at him, but he turns to his friend instead.
Dane’s hands are fisting as Orsen speaks to him.
I can feel him looking over at me again as the twins discuss their dresses for the hundredth time. His eyes stay on me while I walk to the bench, where we take our seats. When I lean down to fix the laces of my boots, his burning gaze follows.
Stop looking at me, creep.
I was merely glancing, mortal. And stop fucking speaking to me like that.
The corner of my mouth curls, but I wipe it away with my hand and pretend to fix my hair. I’ve made sure I keep it down, if only to hide the growing tattoos. There’s an itch at the top of my spine, and I know it’s the ink embedding further into my skin.
A hint of amusement flows through me, and I send it his way.
Or what, Dane? Are you going to punish me in front of everyone?
He gulps—I can hear him gulping from away over here. The strain of his muscles as he shifts in his seat. The soft, wet glide of his tongue across his bottom lip.
The headmistress claps once, grabbing our attention. “Okay, class! We have already allocated you a partner for the ball, and I want to cover a few rules. I will not tolerate violence or any sexual contact during dances. You come up here, do your routine with your partner, thank them with a kiss, then get off the floor.”
I need to kiss him again?
Dane’s mother crosses her arms. “Dance, kiss, then go away. Will that be a problem for anyone?”
When no one replies, she nods. “Let’s all gather round.”
She shows us all the routine, and for some reason, I know exactly what steps she’s going to take before she takes them. The confusion has me dumbfounded, so much so that I touch the back of my neck, feeling the heat and symbols at my nape.
