The moment Isla stepped into the ballroom, she felt the weight of the room descend on her like a suffocating veil.
She stopped just inside the threshold, her gloved hands clutching the skirt of her dress as her gaze swept over the sea of people.
Emerald and gold fabrics swirled in motion with the dancers, and the orchestra played a hauntingly beautiful melody that seemed to echo in her chest.
Despite the grandeur, the room felt too big, too loud. She was an outsider here, a stranger in a world that wasn't hers.
Blend in, she reminded herself. Just blend in.
But her feet felt rooted to the floor. Every step forward felt like plunging deeper into unknown waters, and her stomach churned with the fear that someone might take one look at her and know she didn't belong.
A deep voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.
"You're standing in the way, my lady."
Isla turned sharply, startled by the smooth, low tone that felt more familiar than it should. Her heart stuttered as her eyes landed on Elias, his tall frame cutting an imposing silhouette against the opulent backdrop of the ballroom.
His dark hair was perfectly combed, his sharp jaw clean-shaven, but it was his eyes—those piercing gray eyes—that made her breath catch. They seemed to pin her in place, full of a quiet intensity that had always unsettled her. He was dressed in a dark suit accented with silver trim, elegant without being ostentatious, and somehow he looked more at ease in this world than she ever had.
"Elias," she breathed before she could stop herself, the name slipping from her lips like an instinct she couldn't suppress.
His eyebrows lifted slightly, and the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, so you *do* remember me," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "And here I thought you'd forgotten all about me."
Her pulse quickened. She had met Elias weeks ago, shortly after she found herself in this world. Their first encounter had been tense, to say the least. He had been the brooding stranger lurking in the shadows of Blackthorn Manor's library, his sharp wit and cutting remarks a constant thorn in her side. But despite his aloof demeanor, there had been something about him—something that hinted at a connection she couldn't quite place.
And now, as he stood before her in this glittering den of intrigue, his presence felt like both a lifeline and a threat.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice low.
Elias's smirk widened, though his eyes remained sharp and calculating. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. "You don't exactly seem like the type to frequent events like this."
Isla bristled at his tone, though she couldn't deny he was right. "I could say the same about you," she shot back. "You don't exactly scream 'high society.'"
"Touché," he said, inclining his head slightly. "But I have my reasons for being here. And, judging by the look on your face, so do you."
Isla tensed, her pulse quickening. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you look like someone who's trying very hard not to be noticed," Elias said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. He leaned in slightly, his silver eyes narrowing. "And failing miserably."
Her heart jumped, but she forced herself to stay calm. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice steady despite the knot forming in her chest.
Elias tilted his head, studying her with a gaze that felt far too knowing. "You're not very good at lying, Isla."
The sound of her real name on his lips sent a jolt through her. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"How—" she began, but he cut her off.
"Not here," he said quietly, his expression suddenly serious. "Too many ears."
Before she could protest, he offered her his arm, his posture exuding the easy confidence of someone who belonged in a place like this. "Walk with me," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Isla hesitated, her mind racing. Every instinct screamed at her to stay put, to not trust him, but something about the way he looked at her—calm, steady, and just a little bit dangerous—made her take his arm.
---
He led her through the crowd with practiced ease, nodding politely to the nobles and merchants they passed as if he were one of them. Isla tried to mimic his composure, though her heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest.
They slipped out onto a quiet balcony overlooking the estate's sprawling gardens. The cool night air brushed against Isla's flushed cheeks, and she exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.
Elias released her arm and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the distant hum of the party the only sound between them.
"How do you know my name?" Isla demanded, breaking the silence. She folded her arms over her chest, trying to mask her unease with defiance. "And don't give me some cryptic answer. I want the truth."
Elias's gaze softened slightly, though his posture remained tense. "I know more than just your name, Isla," he said, his voice low. "I know you don't belong here. I know you're not who you say you are."
Her chest tightened, and she took a step back. "What are you talking about?" she said, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "I don't—"
"Stop," Elias said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Don't play dumb. I'm not your enemy."
"That's not very reassuring," Isla shot back. "Especially coming from someone who seems to know more about me than I do."
Elias ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "You're right," he said. "You have no reason to trust me. But trust me or not, you're in danger, Isla. Alaric isn't someone you can afford to cross."
Her breath caught at the mention of Alaric, and she took another step back. "How do you know about him?"
Elias hesitated, his jaw tightening. "Because I've been watching him. And now that I've seen you here, I'm starting to understand why."
Isla's mind raced, her fear and confusion threatening to overwhelm her. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
"It means you're involved in something much bigger than you realize," Elias said, his voice grim. "And if you want to survive, you're going to need my help."