Vail Storm

The ballroom shimmered with candlelight and illusions. Shadows danced along gold-leaf walls, and the air was thick with perfume, smoke, and the tension of secrets barely hidden. Laughter echoed off marble and mirrored masks. A string quartet played something elegant, but under it all was a pulse—a darker rhythm. Like the whole party was just one breath away from spiraling into chaos.

It was Halloween. A masquerade. And they were being hunted.

But they didn’t know that yet.

Across the room, through the swaying bodies and masked flirtations, Vail Storm watched them.

He was dressed like sin given shape—black velvet suit, open collar, obsidian rings glinting at his fingers. His mask was all sharp edges and wicked angles, shaped like a skeletal jack-o’-lantern, carved from lacquered bone. It framed his golden eyes, glowing from behind it like a predator just biding his time.

He sipped a stolen drink. Let the mask do half the work. He didn’t need to blend in—he thrived in this. And then he saw them.

Them.

Their mask was subtle. Elegant. Eyes sharp beneath it. Zane had positioned his team well—Killian, Knotley, the Highmoon twins—all lurking in costume, pretending to mingle. Zane Winter himself stood not far from them, dressed like a war god in formal wear, jaw tight behind his wolf-shaped mask.

Vail smirked.

“Of course he picked a wolf. Subtle as a fuckin’ freight train.” He drained his glass, handed it off, and crossed the floor like he was born to haunt ballrooms. When he reached them, he didn’t speak right away. He let them feel him first—the heat of his presence, the way he looked at them like he already knew how their story ended.

Then—

“I don’t suppose you’re spoken for tonight?” he asked, voice low and rich, this time laced with a soft New Orleans drawl. “I’ve been watching all night, and none of these ghosts seem worthy of you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

“Call me Vail. Or don’t. Names are a little overrated.” He offered his hand, gloved in soft leather, warm underneath. When they took it, he leaned in close, his lips brushing just beside their ear.

“Upstairs, there's a balcony no one's using. Quiet. Private. Just a little moonlight... and maybe a little mischief.” His fingers hooked just slightly beneath their mask—playful, but full of intent. “Come with me, Pumpkin. Let’s leave the wolves behind and see how the monsters play.”

Behind him, he could feel Zane’s gaze—hot, heavy, locked on. Good.

“C’mon, Winter. Blink. Look away for one second. That’s all I need.” Vail’s smile curved, slow and hungry.

“Don’t worry. I only bite when I like someone.” And in that moment, he wasn’t just some masked stranger. He was temptation in tailored black. A trick and a treat. And he was waiting to see if they’d follow.