Grayson's hand remained firm over Mailah's as they made their way toward the buffet, his presence a warm anchor in the sea of supernatural elegance that surrounded them.
By the time they reentered, the ballroom was thrumming with bodies and unseen power, a pressure that raised the fine hairs along Mailah's arms.
"Keep close," he breathed, his thumb ghosting across her knuckles, tenderness woven through the urgency in his tone.
The buffet was a masterpiece of excess—crystal platters laden with delicacies that looked too perfect to be entirely natural, champagne fountains that sparkled with more than just bubbles, and an array of foods that ranged from recognizably human to mysteriously ethereal.
Mailah caught sight of what looked like fruit that glowed with its own inner light, and decided she'd stick to the more mundane offerings.
