Empress Of Wrath, Blood And Desire

Chapter 23: A ball to remember

"Look at her... I'd die for her. Burn the world to ash for her. Kill gods if I had to. Hell, I'd tear my own heart out of my chest if it meant keeping her."

She stands atop the balcony, surveying the ball below as I drown in the sight of her, shutting out everything, the crowd, the music, the noise of the world.

All that exists at this moment is her.

Sabrina looks like royalty. A princess.

No, a queen.

She is devastatingly, impossibly beautiful.

"She came with Carlos. Maybe she's not yours anymore after all," Godric mutters from beside me. His words coil in my chest like barbed wire, but I give him nothing.

He walks away a second later to the other side of the room.

My fists clench, but I keep my focus on her, already moving toward the staircase where she will descend to meet me at the bottom.

I knew Carlos would escort her. I ordered him to. Since they seemed like friends.

"Grandson," a voice, cracked with age but still soft, calls from beside me. It takes every ounce of willpower not to flinch, to force my gaze away from her.

I finally turn, finding my small and fragile grandmother standing there.

"Is that the young woman I've heard so much about?" She asks, her pale eyes studying Sabrina with the sharpness of someone who's lived through lifetimes. For someone who raised seven children, she's surprisingly petite, but time has shrunk her frame.

"Yes, grandmother," I answer, my voice low. "Isn't she extraordinary?"

"Indeed she is..."

We fall silent, both watching as Sabrina begins to descend. Every step she takes is deliberate and delicate. But to me, it feels like she commands the earth beneath her feet. Her movements aren't just graceful, they're intoxicating.

Each step pulls me deeper under, making my heart stall, as if she's descending not toward the ballroom but directly into my soul.

"She carries herself with grace... though there's something familiar about her," my grandmother muses, a soft chuckle escaping her. "When did you meet her, grandson?"

"Only a few weeks ago," I reply, just as Sabrina reaches the bottom of the stairs, her small smile hovering on her lips like a fragile mask.

"Lovely ball," she murmurs, her voice smooth but detached, her cold, empty gaze flicking to my grandmother. It's the same look I've grown used to, the one she wears like armor. "And you must be the renowned grandmother hosting such an extraordinary event?" She adds, offering a polite, hollow smile.

I've noticed the change in her smile. When we first met, they held something electric, a spark that lit the air between us. Mysterious, yes, but alive. Now, they feel rehearsed, as though the joy in them has withered, leaving only a shell behind. She hasn't smiled at me like she did that night, but I know somewhere beneath that guarded surface, her feelings for me still burn.

I can feel it, even if she won't show it.

My grandmother lets out a warm laugh. "Guilty as charged."

"It's a pleasure to be here. Thank you for having me," Sabrina says, her voice courteous but distant, her words slipping through the air like smoke, intangible, elusive.

"The pleasure is all mine," my grandmother replies with a sly smile, her sharp grey eyes flicking between me and Sabrina. "Though, I wish I'd met you sooner. Why now?"