bChapter /b24

She nces at the deskb, /bwhere the scraps of paper I found rest alongside an elegantly crafted quill. She nods with a smile and soon reappears with a small inkwell, just bas /brefined as everything belse /bin this castle. I set to work writing letters to my family, hoping Cassian will allow me to send them. I tell them about how everything is going here, my long walks in the garden, its beauty, the grandeur of the walls, and I make sure to reassure them by saying I’m fine. I don’t speak about my feelings or my thoughts regarding Cassian because I’m sure all my letters will be checked if they are sent. Doing this is how I spend part of my day, recounting my life and telling them about the things I’ve seen, including that little smander named Ank. By the time I finish, I still have ba /bcouple of hours that I spend reading in an attempt to distract myself, and it’s when my doors open again and Naida and rissa enter that I know rxation time bis /bover.

“I must admit I never thought the master would want to take you to one of those parties,” rissa says while briskly rubbing my limbs.

“I guarantee I’m not excited about it.”

“It’s quite an honor.”

“What happens to them?”

She helps me stand, covers me before bI /bget cold, and runs her hands to dry me. Naida appears, as alwaysb, /bcarrying one of those beautiful dresses; this time it’s white, so white it hurts the eyes.

Everything ady shouldn’t see happens there,” she says. “The only one who’s ever gone to one of those parties was Mavka and, ording to her maids, the girl came back quite disturbed.”

“Can’t you tell me something more specific?”

rissa huffs, apparently annoyed by my ignorance and our constant chatter. She grabs my cheeks firmly.

“Carnal sin,” she says. “That’s what you’re going to see.”

Without saying anything more, the two begin to work in silence. The only sounds are the rustling of the fabric as it passes over my body, the tools they use to cover my face with powder and my lips with rouge. They apply some kohl, sharpening my gaze.

“Cassian wants you to wear this tonight,” Naida says, taking from the jewelry box the beautiful ne that now gives me my name among the

castle folk.

I make no objections, letting her fasten the sp at the back of my neck, allowing the gemstones to rest on my chest. The loose white dress, barely cinched at the waist, bleaves /bmy neck and much of my shoulders bare. Once again, I’m surprised and relieved not to have to wear one of those monstrous corsets that barely allow a full breath.

Despite being terrified by what I might encounter or simply by having to spend so much time with my captor, a part bof /bme feels a certain thrill at the possibility of going out, beyond the castle gardens. What I see tonight may not be pleasant, and yet it might help dispel this sense of istion.

“Don’t keep him waiting.”

rissa takes me by the elbow and leads me to the door. Drystan waits on the other side and, without a word, begins to walk down the hall, knowing I follow closely behind. I lift the hem of the dress as we descend the stairsb, /bcatching a glimpse of the tips of my red heels. These, along with the jewelry I wear, are the only btrace /bof color on me tonight. Everything else is pure white.

Cassian hasn’t bothered to wait for me in the foyerb, /bbas /ba gentleman would, but already seems to be inside his carriage. The coachman offers his gloved hand to help me up, and I think I glimpse the edge of his fangs beneath the brim of his hat.

I settle inside, feelingpletely intimidated by Cassian’s presenceb, /bwho, bas /bexpected, looks handsome bas /bever in his ck suit jacket. I try not to make my scrutiny too obvious before turning my attention to the window.

“I hope you remember the rules I told you.” He speaks with that captivating tone only he seems to possess and master to perfection. “Don’t let anyone else sink their fangs into you.”

“Don’t you think you should tell your friends thatb? /bbI /bcouldn’t stop them beven /bif I wanted to. Remember, I’m just a stupid and mediocre human,” I reply with a condescending tone.

One corner of his mouth lifts into something resembling a smile, though I honestly believe this soulless and perverse being doesn’t truly know what smiling is. He only knows how to curve his lips in an intimidating way to reveal the edge of his fangs.

“I’m telling you, and that’s enough.”

Annoyed, I bturn /bmy face back toward the window. Seconds bpass/bb, /band with each one, bI /bfeel more intoxicated by his scent, which fills the entire carriage interior. I wouldn’t know how to describe it, even if bI /bwanted to, but if the night had a distinct smell, it would undoubtedly be the one Cassian gives off. Night and moon. The mystery it holds for poets and artists. It’s unique and impossible to decipher; you simply bfeel /bembraced by the darkest night when you’re near him.

“Will there only be Purebloods tonight?b” /bbI /bask through clenched teeth, unable to contain my curiosity no matter how annoyed bI /bam.

“No. Why would you think that?” He studies me for a few seconds, and at myck of response, he continues speaking. “There will be Diluted, and also humans.”

Thatst part truly surprises me, and he knows it as soon as he sees me turn my face in his direction, lips slightly parted in surprise and eyes wider than normal, abandoning the constant wariness I feel when I’m near him.

“I thought you hated the Diluted–and humans beven /bmore.”

Or at least he seems to.

“Those are just lies they invent themselves to y the victim–and among themselves they know it. That’s why some of them stop throwing tantrums and mingle with the higher ranks or even earn a ce among them.” He tilts his head, observing my expressions. “As for humans, several attend these parties hoping to seduce one of us–Diluted or Pure–it doesn’t matter to them.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could want that.”

vey

Curling his lips into a mocking smile, he leans over his seat, getting far too close to me. I itry /ito press my body bas /bmuch as I can into the velvet- backed seat while his blue eyes gleam mischievously. He raises his gloved hand in my direction but lets it drop before touching me, as if he suddenly remembered something. Maybe the apparent disgust I inspire in him, I tell myself.

“You can’t even imagine how unforgettable we can make ba /bnight, little wildcat,” he enunciates each word clearly. “Besidesb, /bsome humans hope we’ll turn them and grant them immortality.”

“And would you?”

He looks at me with renewed interest.

“Tolerating the Diluted doesn’t mean I intend to create more like them.” He raises one of his dark eyebrows. “Why? Would

of us? Be immortal and beautiful, defy death and the passage of time…b?/bb” /b

“I’ve been prepared to die since the day I was born.”

you like ito /ibe one

He seems surprised; I, on the other hand, remain impassive. It’s one of the few things I can say with absolute certainty. I’m not afraid of death or whateveres afterward, even if it’s nothingness itself.