Earlier…
The chatter of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the swell of music swirled around Daniel's ears like an irritating symphony. He stood on the upper balcony, detached from the festivities below, watching the noble crowd mingle and preen.
To most, it was a beautiful evening.
To Daniel, it was a circus.
A stupid, glittering disturbance to his peace.
He'd considered leaving more than once. The wine was mediocre, the conversation worse. But his eyes kept drifting back to her.
The lady in pink.
He watched as noblewomen circled her like moths around a flame, pelting her with their usual barrage of idiotic questions. He expected her to swat them away, to show some bite. Instead, she responded with a polite smile and effortless grace.
Another puppet.
Daniel snorted. He'd thought she might be different, since her beauty was exceptional, after all. But no. She was just another flamingo in silk, dressed to impress the noble society. Alluring, yes. Obviously to gain his attention. But predictable. Too bad he hated the damn birds. Especially the ones more pink than the others.
He sighed and turned to leave.
Until—
"I don't have any secret, ladies. I just live healthy and get a lot of sunshine. That's all it takes."
Her voice drifted to him like a breeze—sweet, melodic, and annoyingly attractive.
He meant irritatingly attractive. Clearly rehearsed. Only fools would fall for such charm. And he was no fool.
He smirked and resumed walking.
Until—
"Well, I beg to differ, darling."
Another voice. Sharper. Arrogant. Resounded in his ears.
Daniel turned.
A noble leech in a regal navy-blue gown approached the lady in pink with slow, deliberate steps. Her smirk was venomous—clearly here to stir trouble.
The flamingo didn't flinch. She turned slowly, deliberately, to face her challenger.
Daniel caught the flicker of shock on the other woman's face. Not admiration for her exeptional beauty but, recognition.
Ghostly recognition.
Like someone had just risen from the grave.
"This should be interesting…" he muttered.
He descended the stairs, blending into the crowd like a shadow. He didn't know why he was there, he didn't care about the noble women's court drama but this was juicy. And for once, he was in the mood for gossip.
Better to watch the flamingo and the blue bat circle each other than endure another round of empty pleasantries.
He grabbed a glass of wine and sipped, eyes locked on the unfolding scene.
"What's wrong, miss? You look so pale… like you've seen a ghost."
Her voice rang out, annoyingly sweet, like honey laced with arsenic.
The other woman, draped in navy blue, practically lost her voice.
"Aa… aa…" she stammered, unable to form words.
"You see, ladies," the flamingo continued, "that's why our skin needs a little more sunshine. So when faced with unexpected… shocking events, it doesn't turn pale like this. It keeps its beautiful glow."
"Mmppp!"
Daniel nearly choked on his wine.
The insult was indirect but lethal.
The noble ladies murmured in approval, their eyes flicking toward the blue bat, whose face had turned even paler due to the insult.
'Tsk… What a bold flamingo', Daniel mused, wiping his mouth and setting his glass down.
'Let's see if she can escape the bat's wrath. I've heard bats get nastier when they're mad.'
The flamingo began to walk away, having dropped her verbal grenade with perfect poise.
But the blue bat wasn't ready to let her fly off so easily.
"Hey, you! Stop!" she called out.
The flamingo paused and turned, her expression serene.
"Yes, Miss? Can I help you with something?" she asked, voice still dripping with sweetness.
The blue bat snorted.
"Oh, stop pretending to be innocent with that honeycombed voice. I know exactly what you're playing at."
"Who, me? What did I do, Miss? What exactly am I playing at?" the flamingo replied, eyes wide with faux innocence.
'Tsk… Typical,' Daniel thought.
'They always would try to act innocent in order to escape. What cowardice.'
But the conversation was far from over.
"Don't play dumb," the blue bat snapped.
"You said those sugary words to mock me. To make me look like a fool in front of everyone."
She leaned in, voice low and venomous.
"And let me tell you—you've made a very big mistake. I don't tolerate cunning bitches who pretend to be sweet and innocent while they're ugly and messy inside."
The flamingo smiled.
Leaned in.
Whispered—
"You mean… like you?"
"Mmppfft!"
Daniel spat out imaginary water in his mind.
That was savage.
"You bitch! How dare you!" the blue bat shrieked out loud. A little too loud.
Gasps echoed around the ballroom.
'Damn', Daniel thought.
'That is not a flamingo. But a vulture dressed like one.'
And just like that, the winds shifted.
The vulture quickly turned back into its flamingo form and started acting innocent and hurt.
"I'm so sorry, Miss," she said, voice trembling.
"I swear I didn't mean to offend you. I thought you wanted beauty advice like the other ladies. I'm sorry if I upset you. Excuse me…"
She sniffled, dabbing at invisible tears.
Soon the room was filled with mocking murmurs. The blue bat was defeated, it was caught in its own snare and it was now paying for it, dearly.
The flamingo played the victim flawlessly, her eyes glistening with faux sorrow.
Daniel caught the tiny smile tugging at her lips as she basked in the humiliation of her enemy.
She turned and walked toward the balcony.
Daniel smirked.
'I underestimated you, flamingo. You're more interesting than I thought. I wonder what else you're hiding beneath those feathers…'
He followed her.
There she was.
Standing at the railing, the moonlight cascading over her skin, her dress and jewels catching its glow like stardust. She looked ethereal, almost unreal. A vision carved from moonlight and silk.
Daniel didn't know why, but something tugged at him.
A pull.
Unexplainable.
Unfamiliar.
A feeling he'd never felt before.
He was about to approach her when a figure stepped into view, blocking his line of sight.
'Tsk… What do you know. Someone decided to break the rules.
Predictable. And foolish.'
Eric.
Daniel watched as his younger brother approached the woman, engaging her in what looked like petty flirtation. She smiled. She chuckled. She leaned in slightly.
Daniel sighed.
He was bored.
No, he was annoyed.
It felt like invisible needles were pricking his skin as he watched her respond to Eric's words with that soft, melodic laugh.
A tiny urge bubbled inside him to step in, to deflate his brother's little romantic moment.
But he swallowed it down.
He was mature.
Far better than that.
He sighed and turned to leave.
Until—
"Oops!"
As if the night couldn't get any more revolting.
A bloody drunkard had just spilled wine on his clothes.
How fucking convenient.
"I'm so sorry."
The voice was sweet.
Too sweet.
It rang in his ears like a mosquito's hum.
He looked up.
A woman in a silver glittery dress and matching mask stood before him, wearing a smile that was both coy and irritating. Her eyes roamed his body, and she bit her lip—subconsciously, lustfully.
'Pervert', Daniel spat in his mind.
"Please, let me clean it up for you."
She reached for his chest, a towel in hand to wipe the stain.
Wipe the stain?
My ass.
She clearly wanted to feel the sculpted muscles beneath his suit.
"Aaah!"
She yelped as Daniel caught her hand mid-air, stopping her before she could touch him.
He stared at her, cold, unreadable.
Then shoved her hand away, hard enough to make her stumble.
Without another word, he turned and ascended the stairs, disappearing from the party.
...
The sound of running water echoed through the lavish suite, a space drenched in decadence, rich mahogany furniture trimmed in black, red, and gold, velvet carpeting soft beneath every step.
Inside the grand bathroom, Daniel stood beneath the shower, water cascading down his body like rain. The room was dim, but moonlight filtered through the frosted glass, catching the droplets as they traced the lines of his sculpted frame, his broad back, his eight-pack abs, the sharp V of his hips.
Steam curled around him like fog, cloaking him in heat and shadow, like shielding him from prying, lustful eyes.
After a while, he turned off the shower, stepped out of the cubicle, and reached for a towel. He wiped himself down, then wrapped it around his waist, the fabric clinging to his hips as he exited into the bedroom.
He checked his phone, scrolling through a few messages before heading toward the closet to dress.
Then he heard a commotion outside his room.
"Someone's in the Royal Archives!"
"Come on!"
Voices. Urgent.
Footsteps thundered down the hallway.
Daniel placed his phone back on the bed and tightened the towel around his waist. He moved toward the door, listening.
"There! I see a shadow!"
"Over there! Come on!"
The footsteps grew louder, closer.
Then the door burst open.
Daniel slammed himself against the wall behind it, hidden in the shadows.
A figure slipped inside and shut the door quickly, leaning back against the wall—against him.
The intruder wore male royal servant attire.
And he was too close.
Far too close for comfort.
No servant dared to get near Daniel.
Let alone lean against him.
Let alone touch him.
'The nerve of this bloody scumbag.'
As if leaning against his body wasn't enough, the figure began to move, frantic, restless, pressing and shifting against him while listening through the door.
The movements sent sparks flying.
A sensation Daniel had never felt before.
Then it got worse.
The figure bent down, searching for shadows beneath the door, unknowingly grinding their behind against his precious member of the body.
From sparks, the heat erupted into a full-blown inferno.
Sweat formed on his brow. The room grew suffocating. Heat waves slammed into his body like flames licking at his skin.
'Damn. I should've taken a cold shower if I knew this was coming. Who the hell are you and why are you doing this to me!'
Daniel's eyes flared with a dangerous red glow with both desire and fury colliding in his chest.
He'd had enough.
He decided to end this swiftly by breaking the intruder's neck and saving the guards the trouble.
The figure stood up again, still leaning against him, sighing in relief now that the guards had passed.
'The nerve of this fucking bastard. Sighing in relief after wrecking havoc on my body? Oh, you're dead. You better say your grace, because you're done for.'
Daniel growled low in his throat and leaned in, ready to strike.
Then it happened.
A soft gust of wind swept into the room, brushing against the intruder's face.
Daniel froze.
A scent drifted into his nose—fresh wildflowers on a sunny day.
He blinked.
'No… it couldn't be.'
Thinking that he might be mistaken, he leaned in closer, inhaled deeply.
The scent was addictive. It made him lightheaded. It ignited something inside him—an unquenchable flame of desire burning through his chest.
Only one woman made him feel this way.
Only one woman turned his mind into a train wreck and his body into a flaming ball of desire within seconds.
Her.
His mystery woman.
Damn, she was like a magnet to his body.
Every time she appeared, she glued herself to him.
And he liked it.
He liked it a lot.
Now that she was in his grasp…
He was never letting her go.
Never.
He waited until she had calmed down a little before whispering the same words he did before.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
The woman froze.
Daniel smirked.
She'd recognized him.
And now she was calculating her next move.
Just like before, his little rabbit reached out her hand, testing, confirming whether she'd truly been leaning against a wall… or a person.
Her hand touched his abs.
Then squeezed.
Daniel groaned inwardly.
Each squeeze sent a ripple of heat through his body, flames licking at his skin from the inside out.
Damn. This woman is dangerous.
And he liked it.
The more dangerous she was, the more he was going to enjoy taming her.
He couldn't wait.
She turned slowly, finally realizing the truth.
Her eyes widened, dilated as they locked onto his.
His eyes had changed—glowing with that dangerous red hue that only surfaced when the beast inside him was provoked.
And she'd provoked it alright.
Its hunger wouldn't be satisfied until she lay beneath him, writhing, moaning his name like an anthem.
He could already imagine it.
Feel it.
The heat boiling inside him.
Something precious started rising,—slowly, insistently.
To his dismay.
And his anticipation on how the night would unfold.
The woman noticed his distraction.
Deciding to take advantage of it, swiftly, she raised her hand to strike him.
But he saw it coming and caught it—firm, unyielding.
She tried again with the other hand.
He caught that too, rendering her useless, so she couldn't try to land him a punch.
She struggled, twisting in his grip.
And he loved it.
Daniel chuckled, voice low and amused.
"You're going to have to do better than that. I'm not letting you go this time."
She kept fighting.
He kept holding.
This time, he was ready to counter all her attacks.
No surprises. No escapes this time.
He was going to enjoy every second of this.
But then—
He was expecting this surprise.
Both froze.
The woman's eyes widened in horror.
His face flushed, just slightly, with a shade of pink.
'Oh fuck.'
The. Towel. Fell.