The Masquerade Ball
I want you get to know from my prose. Today I'm posting a small snippet from one of my favorite chapters from my book. The Masquerade Ball. Please enjoy.
There was a guy behind Oriana, tall as her with a mask that looked like a black lizard. He wore black clothing, with dark hair slicked back. He offered his hand, and Emma was about to refuse the round, when she noticed she had one token left to exchange.
“Sure, I can do one more round,” Emma accepted when he offered his hand. He interlaced fingers with hers and led her to the centre of the dance floor. He was a wonderful dancer, one of the best she had encountered during the night. His hands were firm and held her closer than other partners. He didn’t say a word while the song lasted. The air now carried the scent of smoke. They moved in a slow, haunting rhythm. His hand pressed too low on her back. His other hand firm against her hand. Emma could feel something familiar in the stranger, his eyes obscured by the intricate mask. When the song ended, he didn't let go.
The next song was faster, way too fast, and the lights even lower, almost shadows. They moved in a frenzy, Emma getting dizzy as he dragged her to the edge of the dance floor.
“You’ve seen me in your dreams,” his voice was low and controlled. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Emma went rigid in his arms. The stranger smiled not stopping. How could she not have known? She examined him—the same jawline under the mask, broad shoulders and intensity. Her heart was beating fast remembering the nightmares.
“What do you want?” Emma lost all rhythm, but he didn’t care.
He leaned closer. “To remind you what’s coming. You already wear my necklace. I can feel it from here. You think I wouldn’t notice?”
“Let me go,” Emma warned him.
“Does your cowboy boyfriend know you’re wearing my necklace while he touches you? Does he know you dream of me while he kisses you?”
Emma jerked back. “You’re sick.”
He laughed. “You like the dreams. Don’t lie.”
He pulled her gently—firmly—toward a dark corner in the ballroom; the music masked everything. No one noticed. Emma tried to escape his grasp, now wondering why her magic for once was not reacting violently to him. Her magic was dead.
“I know you want me; your body always betrays you when you dream of me.” He said in an icy voice while holding her face close to him. His breath was warm and intoxicating. His touch repulsed Emma. “I also know you fear me. But either way, you are going to finish what your mother started.”
“What am I supposed to finish?” Emma asked, feeling her heartbeat hammering against her chest. She felt nauseous.
“Let me break free from the chains.” His clipped voice reverberated against her ribs. “You are going to free me from this prison to regain my place.”
