The ball

**Vicky**

Back in the room, I paced, restless energy thrumming through me. The waiting was unbearable.

Waiting for night, for Dimitri, for the next move in this twisted game. I tried to burn it off, dropping to the floor for push-ups, then lunging across the space, my muscles straining as I pushed myself harder. It wasn’t just about passing time; it was about reclaiming some control, grounding myself in my own strength when everything else felt like it was slipping away. Sweat beaded on my skin, my breath coming in sharp bursts, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm in my mind.

As dusk bled into darkness, I gave up and headed for the shower. The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the grime of the day and the lingering echoes of Dário’s voice. I stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel, and froze.

A breathtaking black and gold ball gown laid out on the bed, its fabric shimmering in the low light, paired with sleek black heels. Dimitri’s touch was everywhere, orchestrating my every move, and I wasn’t sure if it thrilled me or infuriated me. I slipped into the gown, the silk cool against my skin, and sat at the dresser to apply my makeup, brushing on shadow and mascara with hands that still trembled slightly. The mirror reflected a woman I barely recognized, elegant, fierce, like a real nobility.

A knock at the door broke my reverie. I rose, smoothing the gown, and opened it to find Dimitri standing there, resplendent in a tailored tuxedo that hugged his lean frame. His black hair gleamed, his white-blue eyes bright with something like pride as he took me in. In his hands, he held a bouquet of deep red roses, their scent rich and heady. He offered them to me with a flourish, and I took them, my fingers brushing his.

“You don’t have to do all this, Dimitri.”

“Oh, what?” he replied, his tone teasing as he leaned in, lifting my hand to his lips. His kiss was cool, soft, a gentleman’s gesture that belied the hunger in his gaze. “Court you? Or knock on the door?” He straightened, his smile widening. “Our first night, my little one.”

I arched a brow, clutching the flowers a little tighter. “Where are we going?”

“A ball. Come.”

I slipped my hand into Dimitri’s, his skin cold against mine, a stark reminder of what he was, yet oddly comforting in its familiarity. He led me through the winding tunnels, our footsteps echoing faintly against the stone, up a series of stairs that opened into a grand hall aglow with candlelight. The air buzzed with life, humans mingled with vampires, their voices a low hum of conversation, plates clinking as dinner was served.

Dimitri moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, and I watched as heads bowed slightly, eyes flickered with deference. He was royalty here, a prince in his domain, and the respect they showed him was palpable, even if I couldn’t decipher the words they spoke.

I didn’t need to understand Romanian to read the awe in their glances, the subtle shift in posture as he passed. It was almost amusing how much I could glean from expressions alone.

Dinner passed in a blur of rich flavors and stolen observations. Then a heavy door creaked open, revealing an even vaster space, the hall expanding into a ballroom of breathtaking opulence. Marble floors gleamed beneath chandeliers dripping with crystals, and an orchestra struck up a melody, its notes weaving through the air like silk.

Dimitri turned to me, his hand finding mine, and led me to the center of the room. His touch was delicate as he placed one hand on my waist, the other gently cradling mine, his white-blue eyes locking onto mine with a silent question, perhaps, or something deeper.

I nodded, and we began to twirl, swept into the rhythm of a waltz.

He was an excellent dancer, his movements fluid and assured, guiding me with a control that wasn’t about his vampiric nature but his skill, his mastery of the moment. My body followed his lead, the black and gold gown swirling around me, the world narrowing to the press of his hand, the sway of our steps.

And then, as if by some unspoken magic, the room seemed to freeze. It was just us, spinning in a private universe, the rest of existence held at bay. Veny’s voice stirred in my mind, a low growl of warning: You’re going into your head, Vicky.

My wolf, ever vigilant, pacing the edges of my consciousness. But what if I let go, just for a moment? I asked her silently, pleading. Would it be so bad to forget the pain, the problems, just for a while?

She didn’t answer outright, but I felt her soften, her presence a quiet agreement as Dimitri’s hand slid down my side. His fingers found the slit in my dress, brushing against my leg with a touch that sent a shiver racing up my spine. They climbed higher, grazing my core with a featherlight caress that stole my breath, and I felt his cool breath against my neck as he leaned in. Words in Romanian spilled from his lips, soft and unintelligible, a melody of their own that vibrated against my skin.

Then his mouth was on mine, and I was kissing him back—enjoying it, Goddess help me, enjoying it. The taste of him, the feel of him, ignited something reckless in me, a spark I hadn’t known I still possessed.

My hand slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tuxedo. His hand caught mine, holding it there, his grip firm yet tender, and I melted into the kiss.

Dimitri pulled back mid-kiss, his lips hovering just out of reach, and murmured, “Not here, little one. Let’s go back.”

The sudden shift jolted me, leaving me breathless and faintly dazed as he turned to greet a cluster of guests.

Vampires nodding respectfully, humans casting glances my way. Some of those looks burned with jealousy, their eyes tracing the line of my gown, and a flicker of possessiveness flared in me. He didn’t linger, though; his hand found mine again, gentle but firm, guiding me toward the exit with a quiet authority that made my pulse race.

The moment we stepped into the first tunnel, the darkness swallowed us, a soothing balm after the overwhelming light of the ball. Before I could catch my breath, Dimitri’s hands were on my waist, pulling me close with a sudden, fierce urgency. His lips crashed into mine, this kiss raw and unrestrained, a storm of desire that stole the air from my lungs. My hand roamed his chest, fingers brushing the smooth fabric of his tuxedo, seeking more of him, but he caught my wrist again, his grip a soft restraint.

“Let’s go.”

We descended the stairs back to his quarters, the cool stone walls closing in around us, and I felt Veny stirring in my mind, pulling away. Her presence grew distant, a silent retreat, as if she couldn’t bear to witness what was coming. She knew I’d betray James, betray the life I’d once clung to, but wasn’t that what he’d done to me?

Rejected me, left me to rot in a dungeon?

I was doing this to save him, to save us all, even if it meant losing myself in the process. The irony twisted in my gut, but I pushed it down, focusing on the click of my heels, the weight of Dimitri’s hand in mine.

He didn’t pause this time, leading me straight to his room. It was space of shadowed elegance, all dark wood and velvet. He handed me a drink, a crystal glass filled with something unfamiliar, its taste exploding on my tongue—sweet like honey, yet numbing, a strange alchemy that left my lips tingling.

I sipped, and his eyes followed me, tracing the lines of my body with a hunger that made my skin flush. His finger brushed the contour of my lips, and they parted involuntarily, a traitor to my own restraint. Was I longing for him?

Oh, Goddess, the thought alone sent a tremor through me. His hands moved to my gown, unfastening it with a deliberate slowness, each gesture a caress that unraveled me further.

The fabric slipped away, pooling at my feet, and his fingers danced along my skin, tracing the curve of my breasts, circling my areola, teasing my nipple until shivers cascaded down my spine and a warmth pooled between my thighs.

I was wet, achingly so, and he hadn’t even begun. Then his fangs emerged, gleaming in the dim light, and he dragged them lightly from my wrist to my jugular, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. My heart stuttered, fear and confusion warring with the heat building inside me.

Was he going to bite me?

“Relax, little one,” he murmured, his voice a soothing hum against my neck. “I am fed. It is not your blood that I want.”

“What do you want from me, Dimitri?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Your light, your soul, your smile, your love,” he replied, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Dimitri… I…” I faltered, searching for words to bridge the gap between us. “You know I feel something for you. It’s not love, but there are feelings. I don’t know if one day it can be something bigger, but you have a small part of me.”

“Come here, little one,” he said, pulling me into his arms. His hands caressed my hair, sliding down my bare back, cupping my buttocks with a tenderness that belied his strength. He turned me, his lips finding my neck as his hand slipped lower, tracing my waist until his fingers brushed my core. Expertly, he touched me, igniting sparks that radiated through me, pleasure exploding in waves that left me gasping.

It felt so good.

“You’re going to come a few times for me, before I take you,” he whispered, his breath cool against my ear. “Would you do that for me? Let me touch you to give you pleasure.”

I couldn’t answer with words, only a nod, a surrender to the sensations overwhelming me. I didn’t know how to describe it, this feeling of being with Dimitri. Was it him, or were all vampires like this? His fingers worked me with a skill that left me reeling, each touch pushing me higher until I shattered, again and again, a drug addict chasing the next hit.

By the end of the night, I was spent, craving more even as my body trembled from the intensity, and he’d only used his hands. Before dawn, he guided me to his bed. It was a sleek, enclosed structure that sealed shut like a coffin, but far more sophisticated. I barely noticed, exhaustion pulling me under as he drew me close. I fell asleep against him, the world fading to black.