Between Wolves & Doves

Chapter 52 Soiree Part V: Part II

**trigger warning** discussion of dv and nonconsensual sex involving a partner**

The ballroom dance floor is rowdy.

It's very clear the party is now in its full all-consuming swing. Dancing becomes raucous. Inbetween the costumes and the revelry she sees champagne flutes being hoisted high, aswell as short glass goblets of a green drink that looks most intriguing. Laughter and music is all she can hear. It's splendid to see such charms and fun after what felt like her lifetime of being stuck in a waiting room for a husband.

They dodge around people swaying and drinking. Kissing and stumbling around. Friends dancing, lovers entwined. Drinks flowing freely as ever. It makes trying to locate their large vampire a hard task.

Draegan snaps her suddenly back into his body, right out the path of a stumbling drunken couple who've clearly had a lot of champagne. Nearly flattening her. Swaying all over.

Iris doesn't mean to gasp when she finds her back flattened to his chest but she can't help it.

His blue eyes narrow to icy slits. The kind of ice thats skimmed off an Arctic Ocean in a dusty ice storm. Gaze packed with snow.

The couple stammered drunkenly through an apology. Spilling champagne over their hands from too full glasses as they staggered away. Giggling and laughing together. Chortling loud laughter follows them. They were almost choking on it.

"Maybe we should take a seat and let him come to us." Draegan predicts. Voice edged with sharp annoyance. Still wishing to glare hellfire at the couple who almost pushed her over.

They find an empty red velvet chaise and sink into it. The red candles flicker with the air they disturb as they take a seat. The settees have canopies of thin shimmering netting in purples and blues draped around them. Giving the scandalous illusion of privacy for any who chose to take a seat.

Iris sits very sedately next to Draegan. He scoops a hand around her hip and reels her in closer. Her hip and thigh presses to his. On the little end table next to them where the candles burn. Dragean raises a hand to signal a passing footman. The staff tonight are all finely dressed in white gloves and masks all searing white as if to match Célines pearly white dress. They are intermittently spread across the room like pale spectres in a rioting sea storm of colour and costumes.

A footman is before them in an instant. Draegan asks for two glasses. And in no time at all he returns at their sides with a silver tray held on his flat palm. Setting the glasses down before them.

Draegan smiles as the footman pours a green liquid from a strange shaped medicinal looking bottle, into the waiting glasses. A healthy measure in each. She doesn't catch sight of the drink label.

Across the two glass goblets he then laid silver instruments right over the rims. And with small silver tongs picks up a square sugar cube and places it to sit on the silver spoon. Pouring ice water over the sugar until it dissolves and drips into the glass. The green drink slowly churns to white.

Iris watches the sugar break down and slip down into the glass. Swirling into the now cloudy white. An almost beautiful display to watch. He takes away the spoons when the sugar is gone and twirls a silver spoon through to mix it.

He bids them to enjoy before he's off with an empty tray. Off to fetch more champagne. Iris sits watching the cloudy churn of the drink. It must be unbearably bitter to need such an amount of sweetness added.

Dragean brings around the glasses and twists to face her. Hands her one. She wraps her fingers around the cold glass. Stomach swirled with nervous excitement.