Page 156 of Wings of Ash & Flame
The three of them alternated dances throughout the evening, laughter rising in its own off-beat crescendo. Alaire’s scarlet gown blurred as they twirled and spun across the floor.
With each dance, she felt the weight on her chest lift. In that moment, all that mattered was joy with the people she adored most.
After hours, the floor was cleared for the grand event at midnight.
Human staff ushered guests away. A man with a closely shaved head stepped into the center. A spotlight caught his commanding frame. He wore a pinstriped ensemble with shoes polished so bright they reflected the light.
Max Aster, Premiere Lord of House Cerebral. He raised one hand, and the room fell into hushed silence. Max’s rich voice carried throughout the chamber.
“Honored guests, tonight we gather at the Celestial Cascade Ball, when the veil between our world and eternal darkness is thinnest. House Cerebral is privileged to present this tribute to Umbra before the midnight celebration.”
Applause rang out.
Max flicked his hands, and the spotlight soared to the arched ceiling. A breathtaking illusion unfolded, timed to the orchestra’s swells and falls: stars burst into existence, then faded to void, dissolving into the peaceful lull of darkness.
“Umbra is the god of death, darkness, and introspection,” Max intoned. “Tonight we embrace the darkness to uncover hidden knowledge, to explore the mysteries of existence, and to accept the inevitability of death and transformation. Let this celebration remind us of beauty and power within the shadows.May we always seek the light in the dark—and find wisdom in the unknown.”
As the illusion faded, applause thundered.
Max bowed. “The Stardust Waltz will begin shortly. Please enjoy the rest of your evening.”
From across the room, Alaire caught Dexter standing stiffly by a pillar, lips twisted in a displeased line. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of Max.
Interesting.
Tonight reminded her Dawson wasn’t the only one playing a game of secrets and lies. She’d been playing all along, the odds stacked against her.
Her fingers brushed her mother’s ring, feeling its weight.Maybe we’re all just players in someone else’s game, thinking we’re the ones moving the pieces.
But as she remembered Caelan’s offer of partnership and watched Dexter’s scowl, she knew one thing for certain: she played to win.
Thirty-Six
The Stardust Waltz was performed only on the longest night of the year, at the stroke of midnight. Students from every house paired off across the dance floor. Alaire searched the crowd, hope licking up the column of her spine, desperation warring with dread.
Kaia stood with Archer, and somehow Alaire found herself staring once again into Caelan’s ocean-blue eyes.
“Alaire.” He extended his hand, gaze tracing the curve of her face, never dipping below her chin. “Dance with me again?” His fingers brushed hers, sending pleasant shivers up her arm.
She glanced around the ballroom one last time. Her shoulders dipped.
He wasn’t coming.
Taking Caelan’s hand, her gown trailed against the polished floor as the opening chords began. She gave herself over to the music, ignoring the disappointment ballooning in her chest, letting it dissolve in the sweeping notes and warmth of Caelan’s hand at her back.
Focusing on the melody’s story helped block out the ache blooming inside her. It was harder than she’d imagined—trying to forget the one person she hoped would appear.
“Forgive me for not saying this earlier. You look breathtaking tonight,” he murmured, voice low enough for her alone.
His words should’ve sparked something. Instead, they were declarations she longed to hear from someone else, despite knowing she shouldn’t.
“Thank you, Caelan.” Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. “You look very handsome this evening.”
Dancing with Caelan was easy. He was summer and sunshine.
As he prepared to spin her out, a shadow fell across them. Dawson stepped forward, hair swept back from his face, framing sharp features and those damn turquoise eyes that turned her legs to jelly. His expression was a mix of determination and something darker, more primal.
Her breath faltered. Her storm had eclipsed the sun. Beautiful, terrifying, utterly inescapable.
