I scowl, confused, hurt, and angry. But I finally bite out through gritted teeth. “Fine.”
He nods, then kisses my mom’s temple, lips brushing her soft, black curls. “Come,ma muse. Let’s get you a Cinderella drink.”
Momma squeezes my hand. “Stay close tonight. Don’t worry. We’ll sort this out.”
They turn before I can answer, so I glare into my empty cup instead.
He hasn’t even gotten me a drink.
“Hey, you know I got your back, right?” Nox asks, reminding me he’s still here.
I nod and initiate a side hug that bumps our cups together.
“Enough about me. Go. Have fun. Your birthday’s almost over, and there’s no reason both Bordeaux twins should sulk.”
“True. And it’s not a good look on you.” He smirks and lifts his cup. I hide my smile, pretending to sip as he realizes he’s coming up empty.
“You brat,” he snaps with sibling outrage. “Give me back my drink!”
Spinning out of his grasp, I down his gross vodka, enduring the taste before shrugging. “Whoops! All gone. You snooze, you lose, twinny.”
“Jesus, remind me to never feel sorry for you again.”
“Fine by me. Go dance with your adoring fans, manwhore.”
“Fine by me, little sis.” He smirks, then slides into his patented “In-Nox-icating” smolder and scans the crowd. Benoit nicknamed that look as a joke, but Nox ran with it. Unfortunately.
A gaggle of Conservatory girls spot him instantly. He skipped a mask so they’d know exactly who he is.
I follow a few steps behind him, but now that my family is gone, I’m back on edge. The stares have returned, stronger than before. I swear it’s from one particular direction, though.
Behind me?
I pivot slightly on the ball of one foot to squint at the dark corner I emerged from. Heat flares up my neck, my heart thumps in exhilaration, but… there’s nothing there.
My breath leaves on a huff. “Weird.”
“What’s weird?”
I yelp, spinning around to find Zy and his two cousins flanking him.
My hand flies to my chest as my heartbeat slows, but not by much.
“You scared me!”
His cousins’ mouths curl into unsettling, triumphant smirks, making me shudder.
Zy frowns. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Jumpy, aren’t ya?” Bart laughs.
“It’s fine.” I ignore Bart, waving off Zy’s concern. My gaze darts between the three of them. “Why aren’t you wearing masks to a masquerade?”
“We don’t play dress-up,” Rufus rumbles, his arms crossed.
I resist rolling my eyes.Okay, cool guy.
Zy cuts him an annoyed glance, then gestures to his breast pocket, where two masks stick out, one black and one white.