CHAPTER 5— The Ball

Not just any girl. A doll. A porcelain thing meant to be stared at, touched and judged, objectified even, was the look they went for. The lycan princess Eliana Kael Nightfang stood behind me with a triumphant smile while several lycan ladies circled me like excited predators.

I stood in the center of the room completely naked.

Every attempt to cover myself felt useless. Their hands kept tugging my arms down, telling me to stop being shy, telling me they needed to “see the proportions” so they could dress me properly.

My face burned with humiliation. My throat tightened so painfully I could barely breathe.

One woman giggled, her eyes roaming my body in a way that made me want to vanish into thin air.

Another leaned closer, whispering to her friend.

“He is so pretty. If Aldric did not already have him, I would take him for myself.”

“Look at that waist. Look at that skin. A perfect little beauty.”

“He is cuter than half the females here. No wonder Aldric went for him.”

Their voices stabbed at me like needles. My ears rang. My legs trembled so badly one of them reached out to steady me, laughing softly.

“Do not faint yet, little pup. We have only just started.”

My heart hammered. My skin felt too tight. My shame felt bigger than my body.

They powdered my skin, touched my face, brushed my hair, dragged their fingers down my spine. A cold shiver ran through me. One of them slid stockings up my legs, her fingertips warm on my thighs, and I nearly buckled from how exposed I felt.

Finally, they stepped back.

I looked at the mirror.

I did not recognise myself.

The reflection was a girl. Or something close enough to it. A soft face framed by styled hair, lips colored lightly, lashes darkened. A pale cream gown hugged my waist and chest, flowing out at the bottom in gentle folds. The neckline was a bit low, but not low enough to suspect much. At most you'd assume I didn't have much when it came to tits, they most definitely added some props because I could see some protrusions which made me blush.

My chest rose and fell shakily.

I looked beautiful.

That was the worst part.

The lycan princess smirked proudly from behind me. Her golden eyes glittered.

“Perfect. They would adore you”.

My stomach twisted. I did not want Aldric to see me like this. I did not want anyone to see me like this. But I swallowed my fear, knowing arguing was pointless. Fighting would only make it worse.

They led me out into the cool night air.

Then into the ballroom.

The place was breathtaking. Chandeliers glittered like stars. The floor shimmered with polished stone. Wolves in elegant attire filled the room, their scents sharp, warm, overwhelming. Music drifted gently around us.

For a moment, I hesitated at the entrance.

Everyone turned.

Eyes widened. Whispers rippled across the room like a breaking wave.

“Who is she?”

“So beautiful.”

“Look at that face.”

“Is she new?”

“What pack is she from?”

“I want her…”

“She is stunning…”

My face burst with heat. My steps faltered. I held the hem of my dress tightly and tried to disappear into the floor.

But instead, I attracted them.

One after another, lycan men approached me. Their confidence was blinding. Their smiles sharp as they bowed slightly, complimenting me, offering me drinks, asking for dances, admiring my hair, my eyes, my shy silence.

I could barely speak.

Every time I tried to answer, the words caught in my throat. I stuttered or squeaked or stayed silent completely, cheeks burning red. They found it adorable. Even more attractive.

A mysterious shy woman. That was what they whispered about me.

Each compliment made my heart thud harder. Each stare made me shrink further.

I hated how small I felt.

I hated how beautiful they made me.

I hated how much attention I was getting.

But… a tiny part of me also felt something else. Something warm. Something dizzying. Something that made my breath catch whenever someone told me I looked stunning.

Maybe I was starved for kindness.

Maybe I was just overwhelmed.

But it did not last.

Because she came.

The lycan princess.

Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she approached. Her golden hair glittered like fire. Her smile was sharp and poisonous, a blade disguised as sweetness.

“Oh dear, she said loudly, her voice carrying across the ballroom. Did all of you fall for it?”

My stomach dropped.

She walked straight to me, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me forward with a force that made me stumble.

“This thing is not a woman.”

The room went silent.

“He is a man..”

Gasps filled the air. Confusion spread like wildfire. Her smirk deepened.

He deliberately dressed up to catfish you all. Imagine how desperate he must be for attention.

The world froze.

Heat flooded my face. Shame crushed my chest. My heart snapped in half. I felt exposed, stripped, humiliated beyond words.

I bent down instinctively, folding into myself. I pressed my hands to the floor, trying to make myself as small as possible. My vision blurred with tears.

Voices erupted around me.

“Disgusting.”

“He tricked us.”

“Why would a man dress like that?”

“Is he deranged?”

“Get him out of here!”

“Is he mocking us?”

I wanted to disappear. Vanish. Die.

Everything inside me shrank. My throat felt like it was closing. I curled deeper, my forehead brushing the floor, trembling with the effort of holding myself together.

The princess laughed softly above me, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Look at him. What a pitiful sight.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.

I did not know if I whispered it aloud or only in my mind.

Then suddenly everything went quiet.

Too quiet.

Cold swept into the ballroom like a shadow.

People gasped. Some backed away. Others froze completely.

I felt it before I saw him.

A presence made of night and hunger. A chill that bit into my bones. My wolf shrank inside me in instinctive fear.

Bootsteps echoed slowly across the marble.

Then a deep voice spoke, low and smooth, curling through the silence.

“Move away from him.”

A shiver crawled down my spine.

I lifted my head just enough to see.

Black boots.

A long dark coat trailing behind him.

Skin pale as moonlight.

Eyes a piercing crimson that glowed like fresh blood.

The Vampire Lord.

Seraphiel.

He looked down at me, expression unreadable, gaze soft in a way that felt wrong on a creature like him.

Then he turned his eyes on the princess.

“Touch him again and I will rip your hands off.”

Gasps exploded around the room.

The princess paled instantly, taking a staggering step back.

“Why would a vampire protect a werewolf?” Someone whispered.

Seraphiel ignored them all.

He bent down slowly, gracefully, reaching a gloved hand toward me. His voice dropped to a murmur meant only for me.

“Stand up, Jade. Look at me.”

I trembled, breath shaking, but my hand lifted on its own. He took it gently, helping me rise. His touch was cold, but strangely comforting. Strong. Solid. Untouchable.

His eyes softened as they scanned my face, my trembling, my ruined dignity.

“You are safe now.”

I bit my lip, tears threatening to spill again.

Behind him, the room was dead silent.

The predator had claimed his prey.

And no one dared to move.

And I whispered back..

“You know I hate to be called Jade.”

Taking a strand of my hair and caressing it with his long fingers while touching my face, he chuckled..

“I know.”