The music swelled again, soft and deliberate, but Shyla barely noticed the notes. Her eyes were fixed on Nickolas, moving across the ballroom with calm, measured steps that seemed to draw her closer with every passing moment. Each glance he gave her carried a weight she felt in her chest — a pull steady, patient, undeniable.
Leo's voice pulsed faintly, insistent: "Nickolas is your mate. Protect your heart. Stay steady. Do not falter."
She nodded, though her attention drifted to the edge of her awareness — to the shadow that had lingered since her arrival. It had brushed past her senses a few times, curious, patient, unseen by everyone else.
But now it was gone.
Her chest tightened, a mix of relief and unease. The shadow had vanished, leaving only the echo of his presence. She could feel it in the corners of her mind, distant and unreachable, as if he had retreated to wait, to watch from afar.
She shook herself, forcing her gaze back to Nickolas, who was now a few steps away. His hand extended toward her again, calm and grounding.
Shyla felt heat rise to her cheeks. And Nickolas smiled faintly, stepping closer, closing the distance. The pulse of the locket warmed against her chest, and Leo's words echoed softly: "Do not falter."
Nickolas extended his hand, an invitation clear and patient. "May I have this dance?"
Shyla hesitated, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Her eyes flicked around, half-expecting the shadow to reappear. But there was only Nickolas, waiting, calm, grounding.
"Yes," she whispered, placing her hand in his.
The moment their fingers touched, a subtle warmth spread through her, a tethering sensation she could not name. Music swelled around them, yet in that instant, the rest of the world blurred — lights, guests, even Leo's insistent voice seemed distant.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Nickolas asked softly, eyes searching hers. "The… connection?"
Shyla swallowed hard. "I… I think so. It's… like a pull, but… safe. Grounding."
He nodded, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips. "That's the bond. It's yours, and mine. It doesn't demand — it waits, patient and steady. Just like you."
The dance began, fluid and natural. Shyla's steps matched his with ease she didn't know she had. Each turn, each step felt like a conversation without words, a thread weaving between them stronger than any music, stronger than any locket or warning.
She felt herself relax, allowed herself a small smile. "I… I wasn't sure tonight could be like this."
Nickolas' gaze softened. "Then trust it. Trust us. Tonight… just tonight… let yourself be here, with me. No worries, no interruptions. Just the dance."
Shyla's chest loosened, and a small, hesitant smile curved her lips. For a fleeting moment, the tension of the evening melted away. The whispers of other guests, the glare of chandeliers, even the watchful eyes of her family and friends, and the shadow seemed to recede, leaving only the gentle pull of the connection between them.
Around them, the ballroom continued its swirl of activity. Her mother watched with pride from the side, whispering encouragement to anyone nearby. Her stepdad's grin never faltered, hands clasped behind his back as if preparing to step in only if necessary. Nora, of course, leaned casually against a railing nearby, smirking but giving her space, the playful glint in her eyes a comfort rather than a tease this time.
Shyla felt a blush creep across her cheeks. She had always known the ball would be significant — a formal event, a social milestone — but she had not expected it to feel like this. Not the pulse of anticipation, not the subtle tether of something powerful, patient, and utterly grounding.
"Nickolas…" she breathed, the sound barely audible over the music. "It… it feels… right."
He nodded, eyes holding hers. "Because it is. Tonight, you're free to step into it. Free to feel it. The bond doesn't demand, Shy. It waits. And you… you are ready to accept it."
The dance carried them in a gentle circle, steps light but deliberate. Each turn, each movement, strengthened the silent conversation of trust, of recognition, of beginnings. Shyla's chest felt lighter, the knot of tension that had plagued her since the first mention of the ball loosening with every step she took alongside him.
She dared a glance around, half-expecting some lurking threat or interruption, but the ballroom remained a dreamscape — golden lights, whispered laughter, music weaving through it all. Leo's voice was a faint undercurrent now, insistent but non-intrusive. Do not falter… he is your mate.
And she would not.
Tonight, amidst the whispers and glimmering chandeliers, Shyla realized something fundamental: the bond was not a chain to bind her, but a tether to guide her. Nickolas was patient, grounding, a steady presence that reminded her of herself in ways she had long forgotten.
As the dance ended, and the music shifted to a softer, more intimate melody, Nickolas bowed slightly, a quiet smile playing at the corner of his lips. "This is only the beginning," he said softly.
Shyla nodded, heart pounding, locket warm against her chest, pulse steady despite the excitement. "Yes… only the beginning," she echoed, realizing with awe that this night, this dance, was not the culmination — but a step into something far larger than she had anticipated.
And somewhere deep inside, she knew the path forward — with him, with the bond, with the choices she would have to make — had already begun.