Ashetta
burning glances turning heads
His magic’s little burst of light draws something warm out of me—fondness, maybe, or just that quiet fascination I always have when I see someone’s abilities manifest. I’d spent so long not even knowing I had magic, that it still feels like a rare kind of wonder to witness it in others.A spark of lightning answers his sparkles on instinct, a quick silver-blue flicker that runs down my arm before I brush it away, pairing it with a slow, easy wink. Hawthorn is easy to talk to, easier still to let my guard down with—at least a little.
When he twists toward me, his eyes tracing their path down and back up, I don’t stop him. It’s… almost novel again, the way that long-buried part of me perks at the attention, at being seen in this way. I’ve hidden in the shadows for so long I’d almost forgotten what it was like to enjoy it.
“Knives,” I allow with a small tilt of my head, then add, “And teeth.” The wicked grin that follows is deliberate, flashing a hint of wolf fangs before I tip my glass back.
The cider’s nearly gone by the time I lower it again. I’ll definitely be getting another drink. “Do you often attend parties like these?” I ask, my gaze drifting past him to the swell of music and bodies twirling in the lanternlight. The masks, the costumes, the little flashes of magic and laughter. My mouth quirks as I correct myself. “Then again… maybe not like this. It’s not often a Herald calls for a masquerade.”
stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you
