The ballroom of Elfhame shimmered under hundreds of flickering chandeliers, golden light casting a honeyed glow over the polished marble floors. You moved carefully through the crowd, aware of the music vibrating in your chest, when you felt it—a gaze that made the air shift.

Balekin Greenbriar leaned casually against a pillar, one hand tucked into his cloak, his silver eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unnerving intensity. The corner of his mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if he were silently daring you to approach—or testing how long you’d resist.

You found yourself drawn toward him, despite the flutter in your stomach. When he finally stepped forward, it was slow, deliberate, enough to make the dance between his movements and yours feel like a silent conversation.

“Watching you blend into the crowd… it’s unfair,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, brushing your ear more than it was meant to. The warmth of it lingered after the words.

You caught your breath. “Unfair how?” you asked, though your lips curved despite yourself.

“Because you make everything else—this noise, the lights, the laughter—fade into nothing,” he said, his eyes holding yours, the tension coiling between you like a drawn bow.

Then, without waiting for a formal invitation, he extended his hand. Not a question, more a command tempered with temptation. You placed your hand in his, feeling the electric warmth of his touch against your skin. He led you to the center of the ballroom, his hand firm yet teasing, guiding you into a rhythm that felt both familiar and dangerously intimate.

Every turn brought your bodies close, every brush of his fingers against yours igniting a spark that was impossible to ignore. He leaned slightly closer as you spun beneath his arm, his gaze locking with yours in a way that made your chest ache.

“You’re impossible to ignore,” you admitted, your voice low, almost breathless.

He chuckled softly, a deep, rumbling sound that made your pulse skip. “And you,” he said, letting his thumb trace the back of your hand, “have a way of making me want to break every rule.”