The ballroom blazed with color and motion. The chandeliers swayed gently with the pulse of the music, scattering shards of light across the dancers. Masks glittered, voices rose, laughter rang, but to Adrian it all felt unreal—like a dream teetering on the edge of nightmare.
Selene's words still echoed in his ears: Freedom is an illusion. You are bound. Liora's defiance clashed against it: Desire can be fire, not chains. He stood trembling between them, his soul torn apart by contradictions he could not resolve.
And then, like lightning, Cassia seized him again.
She burst through the crowd in a shimmer of gold, her hair loose, her smile wild, her eyes burning with the delight of one who thrives in disorder. Without a word, she caught his wrist and pulled him back into the center of the hall.
The music changed at her command—it seemed the musicians themselves bent to her will. The tempo quickened, sharp and feverish, a rhythm of frenzy. Cassia's body pressed against his, her movements bold, almost reckless. She danced as though the world itself might shatter, and she meant to be laughing when it did.
"Don't think," she hissed in his ear, breath hot, words searing. "Don't listen to their whispers. Forget Selene, forget Liora, forget the weight of your own conscience. Feel only this—my body, my fire, my freedom!"
Her hands roamed shamelessly, her fingers tangling with his hair, dragging him deeper into her orbit. Adrian gasped, his heart pounding, his body betraying him with each step. The crowd cheered, drunk on the spectacle, their applause echoing like mockery in his mind.
But amid the frenzy, Adrian's eyes flickered beyond her shoulder. Selene stood at the edge, her arms folded, her expression calm yet merciless, like a judge watching a condemned man dance before the gallows. Liora leaned against a pillar, her lips pressed thin, her eyes ablaze with fury barely restrained. Althea, farther still, had turned away, her head bowed, unable to watch.
He was burning. He was drowning. He was both prisoner and accomplice in his ruin.
"Cassia," he whispered, his voice broken, "you'll destroy me."
She laughed, her teeth grazing his ear. "Then let me! What is destruction but freedom from their chains?"
The dance grew wilder, their bodies colliding, their movements drawing gasps from the audience. Cassia's golden gown clung to her like fire itself, and every step seemed to say: You are mine, mine, mine.
Adrian's mind reeled. Part of him longed to push her away, to reclaim some fragment of dignity, but another part—stronger, darker—thrilled in her recklessness. For one dizzying moment he believed her lies, that ruin was freedom, that fire was salvation.
And then, silence.
The music ended abruptly, the last note ringing through the hall like a death knell. The crowd froze, every eye fixed upon him and Cassia, locked together in a tableau of heat and shame.
Selene's voice carried, soft but cutting. "So it is true. He dances for ruin."
Liora stepped forward, her eyes wet, her voice trembling with rage. "Adrian, do you not see? She drags you into the abyss, and you smile as you fall!"
Cassia only laughed, triumphant, careless. She pulled him closer, her golden lips brushing his cheek. "Yes, let him fall. Let him taste what none of you dare."
Adrian trembled, caught between them all, his chest heaving. He wanted to cry out, to protest, to claim that he was still master of himself. But the truth pressed down upon him with unbearable weight: he was already chained, and the chain had a name—desire.
The crowd erupted again, not with applause this time, but with murmurs, whispers, judgment. Adrian felt stripped, naked before them, not with flesh but with soul. The party had ceased to be celebration; it had become tribunal.
He wrenched himself free from Cassia at last, stumbling back, his breath ragged. She watched him with a smile, unrepentant, glowing with the chaos she had unleashed.
Adrian's voice cracked as he spoke, not to her, not to Selene, not even to Liora—but to himself: "Am I free, or am I already damned?"
No one answered. The silence that followed was heavier than the music had ever been.