Aila twirled on the spot letting the skirt of her dress balloon around her. Her heels made her stumble slightly and sloshing some of the champagne from the flute in her hands. She leaned into Cassius, gripping onto his arm, halting herself from falling further. She was drunk on the alcohol and the two feeders she'd fed from; both were lying on the couches, pale, their necks almost ripped open. But their hearts still beat, and Davian was caring for them, leaving her to enjoy the music and Cassius' company.