The Pawn and The Puppet (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 1)

The ball is hosted in the famous Dellilian Castle.

A mystery, my father would say. It was built and abandoned when our people first settled here over sixty years ago. But life was proven to have thrived here, only two sets of bones in the grand master bedroom.

He used to draw it for me. Aside from the hard labor he did during the day, chopping wood for the city, he also designed many buildings, châteaus, and houses.

But this one glorious landmark was his favorite.

Walking into its grand ballroom, descending the stairs, is like stepping into a lucid dream—perhaps I can fly? Dance on a golden cloud? Twirl into another universe?

The room glows as if honey was glazed over every sparkling chandelier and light fixture. There are pink fluffy clouds, warriors in gold armor riding the backs of ancient animals, and elegant family portraits painted across the dome ceiling. The walls are cream with gold trim, like a structure one would imagine coming from heaven’s gates. I’m dazzled by the scent of roses and baby powder infused in the heavy air.

Couples spin in the center of the room, high heels clacking against the gold glittering floor tiles as they cling to their partners and hold their faces to the shimmering light to exhibit their bold red lips and sharp-winged eyes. Most of their gowns are ruffled and fluffed around their hips, with dark, dreary colors and identical pinned-up curls.

I hook my arm into the loop of Aurick’s. He smiles down at me, a storm of small talk and booze gathering in his eyes. “You look remarkable.” He glosses me over with encouragement. I smile but not with my eyes, unable to stop them from hypnotically watching the whirling dresses and tuxedos.

Before we left, Aurick returned home with a syringe that took away most of the swelling. He wouldn’t have brought me otherwise. No apology. No acknowledgment of what he did.

We stand at the top of the wide white marble staircase. A few women chat to the side, waiters walking around serving caviar and drinks. They are staring up at me, whispering with looks of disgust like the caviar seemed to spoil as soon as it touched their tongues.

I look down at my gown. It’s dark bloodred satin, not as much volume as the other dresses with their frilly ruffles, but it does have some weight to it. The back is open with a couple laces down at my lower back, holding everything together. The core is tight around my waist like a corset, and the chest line is formed in a V with a sheer fabric that holds hundreds of little jewels sprinkled over my breasts.

I keep my eyes plastered to my red heels as they meet each step, convinced I’m going to tumble down to the floor and make a fool of myself in front of half the respectable Dementia population.

He guides me to a waiter, where he grabs himself a glass of champagne and hands me one too.

My breath hitches in my throat. Please, don’t drink again.

I touch the bottom of his glass before he predictably downs it. “That frightens me, Aurick.”

He peers up over his glass. “What frightens you?”

I nod at his champagne glass.

“What about it?”

“I don’t want to be hit again.” I fiddle with my necklace.

He pulls me in by my elbow. “Keep your voice down,” he whispers harshly. “That won’t happen again.”

“Okay,” I say as he departs into the crowd of laughing women.

I keep moving in the direction of the violinists gathering, tuning their instruments, preparing to share their art. There’s a light tap on my right shoulder. I turn around to see a thin woman, her loose bun with wild curls, like tree roots emerging from the dirt around its trunk.

“Ruth!” I yelp. “What are you doing here?” I pull her in for a hug.

She laughs and embraces me back. “Aurick extended an invitation to my family! Isn’t that lovely? I was not certain I made a decent impression, but I suppose I did.” She examines my dress with a busting grin. “My goodness. You look like a ruby princess.”

I chuckle. “What is a ruby princess?”

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you about the royal families of Alkadon?” She eyes me in disbelief. My lips harden in a fine line, and she instantly understands.

“There were five of them, I believe. And the first daughters were always named ruby princesses, and they always wore dark red. It symbolized the power of a woman.”

“I naively never considered how big the world is.” I raise my eyebrows.

Aurick approaches and Ruth straightens her gold and black calf-length dress nervously.

“I am pleased you could join us tonight, Ruth,” Aurick greets.

“Thank you, sir,” Ruth fusses with a cute, wrinkled-nose smile. “My family and I are honored, truly.”

There’s a beat of silence that turns the air thin and unbreathable. I look back at Aurick, who is staring at Ruth without blinking. “I bet you are.”

Ruth glances at me anxiously and laughs, her discomfort changing the color in her cheeks and causing her soft-brown eyes to flee to a new focus point.

Changing the course of thickening silence, there’s a new note of a violin stepping into the beginning of a song. Men and women line up as if this is a routine dance that everyone has known since birth.

“Shall we?” Aurick turns to me, arm extended.

“But I don’t know the steps.”

“And that’s why you have the best leading dance partner here.” His eyes bore into mine confidently, like the silver light of the moon shimmering over the surface of a resting ocean.

“Okay.” I sigh and share a glance with Ruth. “Have fun.” She waves me away.

Aurick holds my hand by my fingertips, upright and proper, as we move through the arranging dancing partners.

Two ovals of men and women have formed side by side in the center of the dance floor. Each couple locks elbows and holds the opposite hand. Aurick and I mimic this gesture in the line of our oval. With the beat of low bass, we step forward with a clap of heels and shoes to the music. The orchestra follows after every low thump from the bass.

After three steps of this, we face our partners, and our bodies join as closely as possible. His breath quickens before we move again, now in a circular motion with the slow stretch of the violins, rotating around other partners, like slow cogs spinning in a machine. It takes me a moment to see how beautiful this is, how carefully orchestrated the dance goes, and the blend of colors from each dress that bleeds into one another with the flow that carries us around the ballroom.

He places a quick kiss on my cheek and then twirls me away. My body collides like an ocean wave against the jagged rocks along a cliff, and fireworks burst inside my chest as I arrange the puzzle pieces of his face. I see lips, full and plush with stubble along the jawline, tan glowing skin, and the eyes—I know these eyes. Warm, burning firewood.

“Dessin…” I whisper, following a gasp.

A smooth, mischievous, partial smirk creeps over his lips. “Hello, Skylenna.”

I swallow down my shock. I realize my feet are moving along with his to the rhythm of the crowd. Somehow this feels natural. This feels right dancing with him.

“What are you doing here?” I finally say. “How did you—” My breath speeds up and catches in my throat. I look around frantically. What if someone sees him? What if someone already has? Is he planning something? Some elaborate scheme he won’t tell me about?

“Relax.” He lowers his voice, and his eyes rest solely on me. “I came to enjoy the festivities,” he murmurs, leaning in close enough until his breath tickles my cheek. Desire swirls in my belly like water circling a drain.

“Tell me. Why did you come?” I say.

He narrows his eyes and furrows his brow. A smile that only he can make blooms across his face. He doesn’t answer.

“You look happy to see me,” he finally replies. We move around another couple. At the stroke of a low, growling violin, Dessin dips me along with the other men. I hover low to the ground with my hair grazing the floor. I let my head fall back, seeing some women smiling and others closing their eyes.

“Depends,” I breathe out, “are you here to dance with me or ruin the night?” He lifts me back up, dragging my body tightly against his.

“A little bit of both.” He nods. I catch a slight whiff of spearmint in his breath.

“Don’t ruin the night. Enjoy it with me.”

He tightens his hold on my lower back, and I can’t ignore the electric sensation that erupts where his touch is placed on my body, as if our wires have crossed, entwined, and the tingling currents settle under my skin. He leans in, lips grazing my ear. “It is difficult to focus on why I came when your hips are pressed to mine.”

I gulp loudly, feeling him tense and grow against my lower belly. His arousal triggers my own, like being connected to a power source. My eyes snap up to his, and the weight of his stare is crushing.

I lick my lips nervously.

“That right there,” Dessin says, voice like melted chocolate and eyes transfixed on my mouth. “That, and the way your back arches at the touch of my hand is very distracting.”

The air is suddenly charged with violent, sexual energy. I react out of instinct, arching my back and pushing my hips harder against him.

He releases a strangled sigh. The sensation of his breath in my ear causes heat to pool between my legs. I shouldn’t react this way. Change the subject!

“You like the way I feel against you,” he whispers. I could melt into a puddle at his feet at the rugged deepness of his voice.

“I don’t.” But my breath hitches in my throat as his hand trails past my lower back, fingers grazing the roundness of my bottom. I don’t want him to stop. I want to feel his hands squeeze my backside.

What is wrong with me?

“I guess it’s finally time for Aurick and me to get acquainted, hmm?” he suggests, scanning the people in the ballroom and snapping me out of the spell.

“Nooooo, absolutely not,” I respond, swiveling my head to block his view.

“Why? Are you afraid I won’t approve of him?”

“I know how you feel about him, and I’m not willing to see how you’ll act if you were to meet him in person.”

Dessin twirls me around his pointer finger, guiding me back to his body. “You think I’m going to cause a scene?” He scrunches his nose in a menacing smile.

I look away from him, trying to hide my nerves.

“I’m shocked. Skylenna, this is a ball. What kind of animal do you think I am?” Smugness overrides any genuine honesty.

“I know you,” I scold, flashing him a momentary glare. “You always have your reasons. You’re here for something.” A concern pops into my mind. “What are you going to do if someone recognizes you?” I whisper.

“Well, Suseas isn’t here tonight, neither is Martin. Every other council member who is here hasn’t seen me in years. Trust me, they would have blocked out the mere memory of my face,” he reminisces.

The music slows to an end, and our movements do as well. I stare into his eyes and beg. “Please don’t hurt anyone. If you act out… Here, of all places, then there is no talking the council out of executing you.” I look down at his lips and then back up warily. “I can’t lose you,” I utter, and then instantly, my stomach fills up with burning regret. I don’t know how I formed those words, but they came out and sounded like I see him as more than just my patient… More than just my friend.

A solemn look of despair falls over his face.

Dessin closes his eyes and then opens them slowly, now focused on something behind me. The corner of his mouth tips upward.

“Aurick,” Dessin says with purpose, conviction, and a threatening tone.

I turn around to see him greeting us with a smile.

I. Want. To. Die.

I’d prefer death just to escape this moment.

“Glad you could join us,” Dessin adds behind me.

“Sorry, have we met?” Aurick folds his hands into his pockets with an overly happy smile on his face. I glance back at Dessin.

“No.” He steps to the side of me. “I met Skylenna at the asylum. Your name is quite famous around there.”

“Well,” Aurick laughs. “It’s always nice to meet an admirer.”

Dessin looks down and chuckles to himself. “I’m sorry, did I come across as a fan?” He presses his fist into his mouth. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to mislead anyone. I must say for myself that I most certainly am not a fan of that violent, nasty bruise that radiates under that expensive makeup you gave her.”

Silence. Underneath the chatter and music, we are in a bubble of stillness. It’s as if the room was emptied for this. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Dessin steps toward him.

Aurick shoots me a glare—a warning glare. The kind that sinks to the bottom of my stomach.

“Don’t look at her,” he snaps his fingers in Aurick’s face. “Look at me.”

Thankfully, the room is roaring with upbeat music and chattering voices.

“It was wrong of me. I should have never let my anger get the best of me the way it did.” He shakes his head with sorrow. “It was wrong of me.”

Dessin smirks. “Aurick, you state the obvious with such a sense of discovery.”

“D—” I stop myself before I blow his cover. “Damon, stop.” I slip in a cover name.

“Let me make myself imperatively clear.” He steps up to Aurick, only a finger’s length away. “If you ever…ever… strike her again… I’ll make her watch while I castrate you.”

And it’s the raw, primitive energy of an alpha that flows off of his broad stance that forces Aurick’s eyes to look away. He nods quickly.

The truth of the matter is—I know that Dessin’s threats are not empty. They will never be empty. I hope for Aurick’s sake… He never hits me again.