Page 96 of Wolf of the Sand

It was hilarious watching Claudia give real readings, instead of happy lies. She had made more than one wife storm off from her flustered husband, not to mention politely exposing the young woman who had been hiding playing cards and cheating at the gambling tables.

At that last one, Stella had laughed so hard that Claudia had sent her away for being too distracting. The hawk shifter had attached himself to her at the bar, and she hadn't been able to shake him off for twenty minutes.

Stella stepped around the glittering guests, stopping only to look up and admire the chandelier made of thousands of blue and gold artifice crystals, all glowing with charged magic. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship, the small imperfections showing where it had been retrofitted from light bulbs, making it even more valuable.

Ever since technology had failed and the old world had fallen, magic had replaced nearly everything power generated.

It had been the Venetian artificers who first found the secret to storing magic in Murano glass and crystal. Their efforts helped the New Republic rise and flourish while the rest of the world struggled to find its way out of the dark.

"It's incredible, don't you think?" a woman said from beside her. She was wearing a pair of butterfly wings and a matching iridescent blue dress.

No, those were herrealwings, Stella realized.No wonder she's mesmerized by the light.

"Yes, it's very beautiful," Stella replied.And a ridiculous waste of fucking money. She shouldn't be surprised.

The House of Swords were mostly rich, winged, elitist assholes. The palazzo she was currently roaming was a fine example of that. She could probably steal something, and they wouldn't even notice.

Stella grinned at the thought, but then her father's disappointed face flashed in front of her. Pietro knew she crept out every year, and as long as she didn't get caught, he pretended ignorance of it.

Even at thirty years old, the Vianello heiress had to act a certain way at all times to protect their business and good name.

As Stella Vianello, she wasn't allowed to drink to excess and kiss inappropriate men from houses outside of her own...except at Carnevale. This was the one night a year she didn't have to be responsible. When she took whatever she wanted without guilt.

Except her magical one night off was now being wasted on a party that was putting her to sleep.

She was about to give up and go home when her pulse suddenly thrummed with magic, honing her attention and tugging her through a nearby doorway.

The lights of the room were softly alternating blues and purples as they floated about like glass bubbles.

A mage glided in the air above them, her barely-there dress shimmering as she danced in the nothingness to ambient music.

The silent pull wasn't coming from her, but Stella could still feel it humming along her skin like an electrical charge.

"I keep telling you, if you don't experience more of life, then you'll end up old and decrepit before your time," a man's voice said from the shadows behind her. Stella knew that voice.

SignorRossi was a deviant old man of the highest order. He was ridiculously rich and had commissioned her to paint him an erotic tarot deck featuring his favorite whores.

Stella, dressed in disguise as a young man, had spent a whole week of nights at Rossi's brothels to get the sketches. That he was trying to incite one of the Venetian youths to debauchery wasn't surprising.

She turned subtly so Rossi wouldn't be behind her; she had learned that it was unwise to have your back to him if you didn't want to be felt up.

Stella spotted his rotund figure tucked away in a shadowy corner to the right of her. Then he moved to one side, and Stella saw who he had been talking to. It wasn't a youth he was trying to corrupt, but a man.

He was tall with wide, well-built shoulders, framed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His mask was red-and-gold to match his wine-red silk shirt.

His eyes were big and golden in the half-light as his gaze caught hers, freezing her. A pulse of power rippled over her skin like a hot touch, but still her body refused to move. Her heart raced, her palms sweated.

He was, without a doubt, the owner of the strange energy that had drawn her into the room.

Another predator shifter,Stella guessed. He had to be an alpha as well to cause such a reaction in her.

Instead of his intensity making her uncomfortable, Stella felt he was the only person in the room worth talking to.

With a burst of mad impulse, Stella grabbed two full glasses of spritz from the table beside her while its occupants were distracted by the air mage above them.

"Sorry I took so long,amore. The line for the bar is ridiculous," Stella said as she pressed one of the glasses into his hand. God, she wanted to paint his expression of delighted surprise and treasure it forever.

"Where have you been hiding this beautiful flower, and what is her name?" Rossi demanded as he kissed Stella's hand. He had only ever met her in disguise and had no idea of the depravity she'd seen him engage in.

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