"Do I look alright?" Rory asked, turning in place beneath the lights, the blue cat mask framing her small face.
"You look absolutely adorable," Nix blurted out right away, without thinking.
His heart nearly dissolved on the spot. If he still had a tail in this form, it would have been wagging uncontrollably for sure.
Beside him, Jasper studied her with solemn sincerity and gave a slow, approving nod. "Very pretty," he said carefully. "And very adorable."
Rory narrowed her eyes at both of them, then struck an exaggerated pose with one hand on her hip. "That’s it? Just pretty and cute?" she demanded. "Nothing alluring? Nothing mysterious? Not even a little bit seductive? That’s... quite underwhelming."
Jasper had to bite down hard to keep from laughing at her dramatic expression. Nix, anwhile, imdiately seized her hand in both of his.
"Female Master, this is my fault," he said earnestly. "I designed the mask in a juvenile Ravaryn style. If you want sothing more mature or alluring, I can make you another one next ti. Sothing elegant. Sothing bold."
Rory stared at him for a long mont.
Then she sighed. "Fine. A cub it is."
At least she had a mask. That was already a victory.
Just then, Lola Brandon erged from the adjoining room, and the atmosphere shifted instantly.
She wore a phoenix-style mask—sleek, fiery, and commanding. Even standing still, she radiated confidence, like royalty stepping into a throne room.
Rory couldn’t help sighing under her breath. That’s the kind of entrance I wanted.
Lola’s eyes lit up the mont she saw Rory. Without hesitation, she swept forward and wrapped her arms around her.
"Rory!" she exclaid. "That mask is ridiculously cute. It’s perfect on you!"
"Thanks," Rory replied politely—though she absolutely did not an it.
"Co on," Lola said, already tugging her forward. "Let’s go!"
She laced their fingers together and pulled Rory toward the ballroom, practically dragging her along in her excitent.
Behind them, Jasper and Nix followed closely, their attention never straying far from Rory. Lola’s two mates trailed after them, alert but relaxed.
The ballroom was already alive with motion.
Lights shimred overhead, music pulsed through the floor, and the center of the hall was filled with dancing females.
"Hurry!" Lola laughed, pulling Rory into the crowd.
Single males nearby instinctively stepped aside, clearing space for them without a word.
At first, Rory worried she wouldn’t know how to dance. But once she really looked around, she realized sothing important—
No one knew what they were doing.
There were no steps. No rhythm to follow. No rules.
Just movent. Laughter. Freedom.
Her nerves lted away instantly.
If everyone was dancing badly, then no one could be embarrassed.
Rory laughed and joined in, moving however felt right. Lola mirrored her movents, and soon they were laughing so hard they could barely breathe.
"Rory, you’re so fun to watch!" Lola said between laughs.
Around them, more females joined in, the center of the ballroom filling with carefree energy and bright voices.
From the edge of the room, Jasper and Nix watched quietly.
Seeing Rory laugh like that—unrestrained, glowing—made sothing soften in Jasper’s chest. He realized, with a pang, that he should bring her places like this more often.
She thrived in lively spaces.
Then—
Clang.
The lights cut out.
The music died mid-note.
The ballroom plunged into darkness.
"What happened?!"
"Hey—watch your feet!"
"You stepped on !"
"Rory!" Lola’s voice rang out urgently. "Where are you?"
"I’m here!" Rory shouted back, though she couldn’t see a thing.
"Don’t be afraid, Rory."
It was Jasper’s voice.
Anxiety threaded through it. Therians could see in the dark—but Rory couldn’t. To her, the world had vanished completely.
He reached out, trying to find her hand—
But the Starrail suddenly shook.
People stumbled. Bodies collided. Soone bumped hard into Rory’s shoulder, sending her stumbling sideways.
She didn’t panic.
Her only worry was that Jasper and Nix would be frantic trying to find her.
"Rory!" soone shouted again. "Don’t be scared!"
Suddenly, a pair of strong, calloused hands closed around hers and pulled her firmly into a solid chest.
At first, she thought it was Jasper.
He was the only one who ever called her like that.
But the mont she breathed in, she knew she was wrong.
Jasper always slled cool and clean, like frost and tal. His skin was slightly cold to the touch.
This man was warm.
His scent was deep and rich, spiced with sothing faintly earthy—like patchouli.
Rory stiffened instantly.
"You’re not Jasper," she said carefully. "Who are you?"
She looked up, straining to see his face, but in the darkness she could only make out eyes glowing faintly red.
"I..."
The man froze, his entire body going rigid.
"You’re right," he said at last. "I’m not Jasper."
His voice was low, steady, almost reverent.
"Rory," he continued softly, "it’s . Kather."
"Kather?"
Her eyes widened.
"You’re Kather?"
She had wanted to find him just yesterday—and before she even had the chance, he had appeared on his own.
"You’re really Kather?"
He didn’t understand why his na seed to shake her so deeply.
"Yes," he replied firmly. "I am Kather."
Then, as if rembering himself, his tone shifted—formal, respectful.
"Forgive ," he added. "I should have addressed you properly... my lady."
As her follower, he wasn’t permitted to use her na without consent. Until she accepted him fully, that was the correct form of address.
"But I heard Jasper call you that," he admitted quietly, "and I couldn’t stop myself."
My lady.
The words made heat rush to Rory’s face.
Lola had offered her a chick. Even her brother.
And now this—being called my lady with such quiet devotion.
Did everyone from Aurelia have sothing strange going on? Was that place just... like this?
"Just—just call Rory," she muttered.
Hearing those words from him made her heart beat far too fast.
"Rory," Kather repeated softly.
He drew her just a little closer, his voice gentle, warm, and undeniably sincere.
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