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I pulled open the doors and entered the hall.

I worked my way around the ballroom like a drowning woman treading water. I smiled, I nodded, I held onto my silver flute of bloodwine like a lifeline. I was cornered by highblood nobility. First by Quinn’s mother, Lady Riley, who asked if she could use the refectory for Quinn’s betrothal ball. I told her no—politely. She didn’t take it well.

At dinner I was seated with the Sylvains. Lord Sylvain commended me for instituting more restrictions on blightborn freedom, while his son, Evander, sat silently listening. I’d heard about what happened to Evander’s little triad, how Visha Vaidya had decided to walk away from both him and Lucian Aleron in a fit of pique. As I listened to Evander’s father spouting about the need for greater dominance over the blightborn, I wondered if there was more to it than what I’d been told.

After dinner, I drifted about the room, refusing offers to dance from lecherous old highblood men. Not that Viktor would have cared if I danced; he would only have cared if I enjoyed it. A soft melody began to drift through the hall, and I turned my head to the dance floor where Florence Shen, looking pale and ethereal in her silver gown, began a waltz with Kage.The Avari House Leader steered her unhurriedly, his hand steady at the small of her back, as if he’d been born for the ballroom instead of battle drills and highblood house intrigue. But I knew better—there was a wolf inside Kage Tanaka. He’d been born for the wild. For the open air and freedom. For something better than stifling ballrooms and cruel gossip.

How I envied him. If I could turn into a wolf, I wouldn’t have been standing there, I’d have my teeth at Viktor’s throat.

Florence smiled up at Kage. I studied her face, wondering how much she cared for him already. Probably a lot. After all, he was a highblood, and she was a blightborn. It was like something from a fairy tale: the blightborn girl who married the wolf-prince.

My stomach twisted as Kage smiled back at her. Was it my imagination, or did his smile seem a little forced? I reached for another glass of wine. Dessert was being served—a rich chocolate cake trimmed with bloodberry frosting—but I knew I wouldn’t be able to taste it.

Viktor had promised me power. Promised I’d rule this place. Instead, I was the ghost haunting the castle. Everywhere I moved, conversations broke apart, reforming only once I’d moved away. I was the youngest headmistress Bloodwing had ever had. I was also the most despised. Everyone knew how I’d gotten the position—by sleeping my way to the top of the Sangrathan food chain. Would they care if I told them I regretted my choice every day? Would they care if they knew the real reason why I’d done it? They were highbloods, so of course they wouldn’t. They’d be gleeful.

I thought of Persis. He was so small, so young. There was no use in asking if he’d do the same for me someday. Of course he would—if he ever had the chance to grow up. I thought again of Kage as the wolf, how strong he was, how fast he could run. If I were a wolf, could I save Persis? Would I be any match for Viktor then? Or would he tear me to pieces just as easily?

Somewhere between the hallway and the refectory, I realized something had happened. A cascade of unrelenting selfknowledge and unwanted truths.Viktor was never letting Persis go, not so long as I was his consort. It didn’t matter that I was obedient. It didn’t matter that I was doing everything he wanted. He enjoyed the leverage too much to ever relinquish it. Another man might have tested my loyalty and then honored his agreement and let Persis go. But somehow, I knew—Viktor never would.

Persis was trapped—but so was I. I couldn’t save him any more than I could save myself.

I decided this selftorture had gone on long enough. I’d made an appearance. I’d congratulated the happy couple—well, one of them, at least. I’d mingled and played my part. No one would notice if I slipped away. When the musicians struck the notes of the next set, I headed for the doors. I was almost there.

“Leaving so soon?” Kage stepped into my path. The Avari leader towered over me. I wore heels—I was always wearing heels—but even those hardly made a difference with him. His eyes locked onto mine, rich and dark, with a touch more warmth than usual. His pale hair gleamed like polished silver against the rich black of his formal jacket. There was an elegance to him tonight that made him look both refined and fiercely commanding. Beneath his dark brows his gaze was intense, focused—as if he could read the turmoil swirling about beneath my carefully constructed mask.

“Dance with me.”

I smiled coolly. “No, thank you. I was just leaving. I’ve stayed long enough to fulfill my obligations.”

“Not all of them.”

My mind went straight to the last words he’d said to me the last time we’d been alone together: When a wolf finds his true mate, he knows. What the hell was that supposed to mean? How could I be his mate when I was trapped with Viktor and when Kage was about to take Florence Shen as his consort?

Kage was still standing there waiting. “One dance is all I ask. Then you can go.” He held out his hand. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”

I glanced around. No one was watching us yet. Continuing to refuse would be too revealing, too much of an admission of my own vulnerability.

I tilted my head in assent and let him take my hand. Kage’s fingers closed around mine, and all the intentions I’d had of remaining restrained and poised fled. His grasp was firm and warm. As our palms met, I shivered, remembering the feel of his blood flowing into me. I should never have made the Blood Vow. There was something far too intimate about the highblood tradition. I’d let a piece of Kage Tanaka enter my body and slide right into my soul. Now I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get him out again.

The orchestra shifted so seamlessly into the next waltz that I wondered if Kage had asked them to play it. The song was slower, with a melody that seemed sad to me. He led me onto the dance floor, then firmly clasped my waist with both hands. For a moment, my entire body stiffened. But the next, I found myself leaning into his touch. I inhaled slowly. He smelled so good, the opposite of Viktor. There was no death and decay here; Kage smelled like the earth, like fresh fallen snow and cedarwood.

“This is an unusual waltzing position,” I murmured.

One hand should have been at the small of my back, the other clasping my hand. There should have been distance between us, just like when he’d danced with Florence. Instead, his hands were practically wrapped around me. I imagined them slipping lower, grasping my hips as he pulled me tight against him.

“Would you like me to move my hands?”

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t say that.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself drink in the moment just for a few seconds. This was dangerous. He was dangerous. I should have walked away when I’d had the chance, even if it had meant causing a scene. Because now that Kage Tanaka had put his hands on my body again, I didn’t want him to take them off. His hands made me want to do bad things. Selfish things that were just for him and me alone.

Around us, guests whispered and stared. Kage studiously ignored them. His movements were confident, assured, fluid, guiding me effortlessly. His grip tightened slightly around my waist, and my breath hitched.

He leaned down, speaking near my ear. “You seem tense. What’s wrong, Regan?”

So many things, I wanted to say. So, so many things were terribly wrong. His engagement to another woman being one of them.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” I said breathlessly instead.