The woman in the silver mask.

At the Moonveil masquerade, everyone came to hide who they were. I came wearing my sister’s face.

“The silver tree, eleven o’clock.” Vanessa tightened the silver mask against my temple, hard enough to leave a mark by morning. “Wait beneath the tree for an hour; when he approaches, answer his questions. Stay pleasant and smile.”

The blue contact lenses she’d forced into my eyes burned each time I blinked. I folded my trembling hands against Cassandra’s midnight-blue dress before Vanessa noticed them. “You still haven’t told me which mask is his,” I said.

“You don't need to recognize him.” She rested her fingers on my shoulders as she turned toward the door. “He knows how to recognize Cassandra.”

“And what if he realizes that I am not Cassandra?” I said, hoping she would change her mind.

Vanessa glanced over her shoulder. “Axel Blackwood permits no recent photos of himself outside his territory, and your father handled the negotiations without me. So he has not met Cassandra. All he knows is her height, her eyes, and the silver mask she is putting on today. He won’t know the difference unless you give him a reason to look for one.”

“What negotiations?” I asked.

 She turned fully towards me, completely avoiding what I asked. “Considering how long his name has terrified the north, he is properly old enough to be your father or grandfather. So, stop shaking. You have every advantage.”

I wanted so badly to believe Vanessa. That an old man was a manageable problem. And to be honest, something inside of me was glad I wasn’t the one marrying him. But to survive this one night, I had to nod at the right moments and smile.

“And if Cassandra returns before the hour’s up?” I asked.

“She won’t.” The certainty in her voice frightened me more than anything else she had said all night. I wanted to ask where my sister had gone and why she was not the one attending the event, but Vanessa was already stepping out of the car into the light spilling from the Moonveil estate.

The moment we arrived, the masked music rolled out to meet us, deep and old, like something that belonged to another century. The ballroom opened beneath a glass ceiling, moonlight pouring straight down onto a floor so black it looked like it could swallow the candles floating above the dancers.

All eyes were on me, or at least on who they thought I was. That was the entire point of tonight: a room full of people trying to guess who the person beside them was. My silver mask was just another mask to everyone, everyone except for one man.

“Remember,” Vanessa whispered, close to my ear now. “Do this properly, and the key to your mother’s study is yours tomorrow. Do it badly, and…well, I will stop paying for Mrs. Elwood’s treatments.”

Before I could reply, she was gone, folded into the crowd, and I was alone with a countdown I had no choice but to agree to.

I waited under the tree away from the main celebration, like I was told. I made it about ten minutes before I realized I wasn’t actually going to wait there for an hour for a man whose presence wasn’t guaranteed. And, according to how peaceful the atmosphere was, I doubted he was ever going to come.

The mask pressed uncomfortably against my temples, and with every blink, the lenses scraped against my eyes, amplifying my irritation. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the dim lights adorning the tree flickered and faded into darkness. An unsettling chill crept over me, and the atmosphere suddenly felt charged with suspicion; it started to feel like a murder attempt. So, I walked away.

I followed a path to a stone passage, which opened onto a beautiful garden decorated with built-in light, all-white roses, and a still black pool, and the air finally felt like air again. I sat on the edge of the pool and removed my left heel, which had broken from walking for almost an hour. “Wow, what a lucky day,” I said, pushing the heel to its original position, hoping it would somehow stick.

I started panicking as the water rose around me, blocking my every means of breathing. I was convinced I was about to drown, so I flailed my arms dramatically, already imagining how all this would go down.

A strange man stood just above me, not offering any help, even though it was entirely his fault. He tilted his head slightly, watching me struggle to breathe. “You know it's only two feet deep, right?” he said.

I finally stopped and scrambled to my feet, feeling embarrassed. The man was still standing there, staring at me with his lips pressed together, clearly fighting a laugh.

“Do you think this is funny?” I snapped.

His mouth twitched again, but he didn’t say a word.

“You scared me!” I added, pointing accusingly at him. “You basically pushed me!”

“I didn’t say a word,” he said.

The moment I heard his voice, the incident completely vanished from my head, and I suddenly became aware of him. 

He had no mask at all, which suddenly felt more dangerous than almost drowning me. Black hair swept back from a sharp, striking face. A thin scar cut through one eyebrow. I blinked as I realized I was staring at him longer than I should have.

He took off his suit, which looked like it cost more than my share of my father’s will, and he placed it around me. The moment our skin touched, something inside me broke open. Pain tore through my chest; what followed was a strange heat so sudden my knees buckled. He caught me before I hit the edge of the pool.

The moment our eyes met, something inside me went completely still. Something that had been quiet for years woke up screaming one word.

Mate.