Once inside, Corinne was committed to the path. But she wasn’t afraid. She felt like a new woman, a stranger, not Nita Corinne, dutiful akashic, daughter of and constant disappointment to Nita Sabine. Behind her mask, she could be anyone. Surrounded by strangers, she could be anywhere. Whatever happened tonight, Corinne was determined to embrace this magic, to be this person, to explore this self she barely knew.

Corinne crossed the grounds. A few attendees clustered on the lawn, talking quietly. Other than the fact they were wearing masks, there was nothing remarkable about them. So far, this could be any party. It was only once Corinne entered the house that everything changed.

The first thing Corinne noticed was that she was not, as a part of her had feared, the least-dressed person in the room. A number of men and women both paraded about in lingerie, or, in some cases, nothing at all. Others had every inch of skin covered, but in material so tight and thin they might as well have been bare. Still others wore suits, dresses, kimonos, saris—the full range of formal wear one would expect at any gathering of the nobility. The over-dressed and under-dressed mingled together as though it were all the same.

After the clothes, Corinne’s mind processed the collars, the cuffs, the leashes of every design, from shimmering, delicate chains no more substantive than a necklace, to thick devices of leather and iron. Corinne did her best not to stare, to try to look as though she were perfectly comfortable. Like she’d seen all this before.

No one in the room wore crests. Corinne had expected that much—it wasn’t as though she was advertising her own identity—but she hadn’t stopped to think how disorienting that would be. The masks were one thing, but not being able to see people’s clans, their families, their genders—the social cues that she hadn’t until this moment realized she relied on. Without those, Corinne’s mind tried to apply labels based on appearances—a delicate, ethereal beauty became a Swan woman, or the broad-shouldered aggressor shoving someone back against a wall became a Griffon man—but these were presumptions and unlikely to be correct and Corinne would have to be careful.

The one thing Corinne knew was that she was drawing attention. Hadn’t that been the plan? Well, it was working. So many eyes on her, heads tilted together to whisper. Did someone recognize her? Could they see that she didn’t belong?

Too much, too many, too all at once. Corinne needed a chance to get her bearings, to figure out this place before she could handle being at the center.

Moving deeper into the mansion, Corinne tried to find a quiet spot to collect herself, but it only got worse. In the foyer, in the front parlors, people had only been talking. It had only been their eyes, their laughter that Corinne had to worry about. As she went further in, away from the front halls full of light and noise and crowds, she found rooms of people engaged in far more than talking.

Corinne had expected sex. She’d come here to find sex. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Except that sex apparently encompassed a far greater world than Corinne had ever imagined.

Contrary to what other clans might think of them, the Dragon weren’t against sex, per se. Corinne was no blushing virgin. She lived in a barracks full of soldiers. She’d engaged in quickies with friends, in post-battle passions, and, yes, the occasional hook-up driven exclusively by spite for her mother.

But Corinne was an akashic, one of the nima's true chosen, or so she’d been told over and over again all her life. Frivolous sensualities and physical diversions were a waste of her time and talent. She should aspire to greater things, more lofty pursuits.

Every encounter Corinne had experienced had been…boring. Perfunctory. Over before she’d even warmed up to it. But to ask for more would have been seen as indulgent, base, unworthy of an Adept, of a true Dragon.

Corinne didn’t know what she wanted, only that she wanted different. She wanted more. Teasing hints and whispered rumors had led her here, and only now was Corinne realizing how little she’d understood, how much was possible and far beyond her imaginings.

People naked and bound. Cries of pain and pleasure. The crack of a whip. In another room, at least a dozen bodies circled together, overlapping, giving and receiving pleasure in a writhing mass. Here, a woman tied suspended, trembling beneath the dozen hands that moved over her. There, a man kneeling between the spread legs of a woman who seemed more interested in watching another couple play.

Corinne both couldn’t look away and wanted to hide. She was a mess of confusion, fear, and a longing she couldn’t tease any sense from. Did she want this? Any of it? All of it?

They saw her watching. They had to see. Would someone invite her to join? What did they expect? The fact that she was here at all…did that mean she had to…

Corinne backed from the room, too hot, a strange dizziness making it hard to walk, to breathe.

A light touch on Corinne’s shoulder made her jump. She spun around, stumbled. Her hand was caught by cool, strong fingers, and a luxuriant voice asked, “My dear, are you all right?”

Corinne looked up from the hand that held hers to the face of a person who couldn’t possibly be anyone but Lady Snow.

Even in a mask, she was the most beautiful woman Corinne had ever seen. A few inches shorter than Corinne, but with a radiant presence that took over the space around her so Corinne felt like she was the one who had to look up. So pale, the woman was almost crystalline, from her white skin to the twining braids of pure white hair running down her back. Her mask was an artful creation of diamonds—white and the palest blue—cut to look like a flurry of snowfall across her face. The illusion carried to her gown, diaphanous, dotted with glittering gems that swirled and fluttered with her every move.

The lady’s eyes—a pale, clear gray—studied Corinne. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

Corinne shook her head. She couldn’t imagine keeping any secrets from this luminous being. “This is my first time. It’s a lot to take in.”

Corinne braced herself for mockery, for the Lady’s gaze to turn cold. To be dismissed. The Lady would deride her ignorance, call her naive, and send her away.

It was what Corinne’s mother would have done.

None of those things happened. Lady Snow released Corinne’s hand, said, “A drink, perhaps?” At Corinne’s nod, Snow moved her hand to the small of Corinne’s back, guiding her forward with a light touch.

They went up stairs Corinne hadn’t seen to a balcony overlooking the main hall. Lady Snow led Corinne to a half circle of thick-cushioned chairs and gestured for her to sit—an invitation Corinne gratefully took. The Lady raised her hand and a masked woman came from—somewhere. “Drinks,” Snow commanded. “My usual and…some water, I think, for our new guest.”

Corinne was starting to feel more herself. The air was cooler up here. She had some distance from the intrusive presence of all those bodies. She was starting to be able to think again.

Below, the party continued. Nothing out here was so intense as what Corinne had witnessed in the back rooms, but it was clear the dance that was playing out.

“It can be a little overwhelming,” Lady Snow said. The kindness in her voice almost undid Corinne. It was the last thing she’d expected.

The drinks came and Corinne gulped the cool water. It revived her even further, and after she and the Lady were alone again, Corinne found her voice. “I don’t know if I should be here,” she confessed.

Lady Snow sipped her own drink, a clear blue cocktail over ice. In her soft, melodious voice, she asked, “What is your name, little dragon?”

Corinne should have been prepared for this. She should have considered that someone would ask. “I don’t—with the masks, I didn’t think. Should I come up with a name?”

Snow inclined her head, but again, she didn’t laugh at Corinne’s ignorance. “For them, yes. You’ll find it more freeing. But for me…” She leaned forward, reached up to Corinne’s face. Towards the fire that was entirely real and would burn. Corinne’s thoughts were too sluggish to warn the Lady, and Snow’s fingers passed through the nima. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. She seemed impervious to their banked heat. Her fingertips brushed Corinne’s cheek. “Tell me your name.”

“Corinne,” she answered on a breath.

“Corinne,” Snow repeated, like she was tasting the word. Corinne loved the sound of her name on Snow’s lips.

Snow’s thumb traced along Corinne’s jaw. “There’s no shame in trying something new, and nothing wrong with deciding a new thing isn’t to your taste. But I think, little dragon, that you belong here. I think you want to belong here.”

Snow’s light touch and the caress of her voice seemed as much a restraint as any of the chains and ropes binding the people in the rooms below. “I don’t know what I want,” Corinne whispered, unable to move.

“Well then. We should endeavor to figure that out.” She released Corinne and sat back. Corinne let go the breath she was holding.

“Look around.” Snow waved her hand at the people spread out below. “A buffet of delights before you. Watch them. Imagine yourself in their place. Find the thing that draws you. Because I can see very clearly that something draws you.”

She sounded so sure of herself. “Are you an empath?” Corinne asked.

Snow gave a slow smile. “I am many things, my darling. But at this moment, we’re talking about you.”

Corinne looked around as she’d been told. She’d calmed from her initial shock, and from the balcony, she felt a safe distance from everything. She could look; she could consider.

The first person who caught her eye—a woman, naked but for a silver chain around her throat that connected her to the man at her side. Corinne admired the woman’s beauty. The contrast of the burnished silver against soft copper skin; her long hair coiled artfully on top of her head, spilling down her back in tiny braids. The curve of her hips, her round, full breasts.

“Talk to me, Corinne.” Lady Snow’s voice was soft, but commanding. “Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

Corinne kept her eyes on the people below. That made it easier to talk, to make these soul-baring confessions. “I don’t want to be leashed.” Of that much, she was sure. “It seems silly.” That wasn’t the right word. “Fake.” Corinne shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a game, as are so many things. Some like the game. Some need the game.”

“Need it?” Corinne felt the awkward urge to laugh. Flustered again without understanding why.

Lady Snow only pointed her back at the hall below. “Keep looking. Find something that does appeal.”

When Corinne had first come in, the hall had mainly been people talking. But the evening had progressed while Corinne had been engaged in her explorations. Even out here in the very public space, people were…

“There,” Corinne whispered. “I think…maybe I’d like to be that person.”

Lady Snow followed Corinne’s gaze to a cluster of people who had claimed a long couch on the far wall. Three women and two men. One of the men was on the floor, at the center of all the rest. That was who had caught Corinne’s attention.

He wasn’t bound, but forced to lean back, one of the women holding his shoulders in place as the other man stood over him, making use of his mouth. Fucking his mouth, Corinne corrected herself. The act she was witnessing demanded the vulgar word.

Another woman was between the captive’s knees, running her hands all over him as though he belonged to her. The third woman sat on the couch, naked as the captive, just out of reach, watching all this as she stroked herself.

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

The intimate murmur made Corinne bold. “Who would you be?” she asked.

The question brought a smile to Snow’s face. “Why I would be exactly who I am. Watching. Hosting.” She reached out again to brush Corinne’s cheek. “Discovering.”

Corinne couldn’t bring herself to say the words that burned in her mind. You. I want to do this with you.

But surely everyone in this house desired the attention of Lady Snow. Every rumor Corinne had heard about this woman had been full of awe. Every gossip who knew her had wanted to please.

Lady Snow’s hand moved over Corinne’s face. Not touching her skin, but tracing the lines of Corinne’s mask. “This really is lovely work. A creative approach. Skilled.”

Corinne looked down, truly embarrassed for the first time tonight. Snow caught her chin, pulled her head back up. “No shame. Not now.” She stood, drawing Corinne up as well. “Come with me.”

Corinne’s nerves flared again at the thought of going back down to the party. Excitement and fear warred. She’d told Lady Snow she wanted…Corinne looked back down at the man who was still being used, touched, invaded, displayed.

“It’s all right,” Snow reassured. “You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

Corinne was relieved and…not. Was safe what she wanted? She didn’t think so. But to take that first step…

Snow led her back to the party, into the hall they’d been watching over. Snow walked behind Corinne, a hand light on her back to guide her, speaking low into her ear as they traversed the long hall. “They see you with me. They’re watching us. They’re watching you.”

Corinne could see the ripple as people noticed her. Activities slowed or ceased; heads turned; eyes narrowed.

Staring at Corinne. She stood before them, exposed, the center of attention. With Snow standing behind her, Corinne was fully on display.

“They see how beautiful you are.” Snow’s rich voice ran through Corinne, as warm as a touch. “They see your mask and marvel at it. They see how you chose to dress for them. For me.” Those last two words a whisper that shivered across Corinne’s neck.

Corinne’s lungs were tight. Her body throbbed. She wanted so badly for Snow to touch her. For anyone to touch her. To relieve her desperate, squirming need. She squeezed her thighs together around swollen, sensitive flesh.

They reached the front of the hall, to the foyer doorway, and Snow turned Corinne around to face her. “I want you to think about this,” Snow said, all teasing gone from her voice. “You’ve seen this world now; you know what it is. I want you to go home and consider—to make a decision when you’re less…worked up.”

Corinne’s mind had gone sluggish with desire, but Snow’s words sank through. Corinne blinked. “You’re sending me away?”

“Only for tonight.” She placed her cool hands on Corinne’s hips. Her thumbs traced up and down Corinne’s bare skin. “You need to decide what you want. You need to know what you’re saying yes to when you walk in the door.”

Corinne swallowed and nodded. The sane, rational part of her mind—the part that hadn’t been keeping up very well tonight—agreed that she needed to think. The rest of her…the rest of her couldn’t stop thinking of Lady Snow’s hands, how they only had to move a little farther down…

“Little dragon.” Snow tilted her head forward; their faces were inches apart. “I’ll see that you receive an invitation to my next gathering.” She brushed her lips across Corinne’s, a bare whisper of a kiss. “I’ll see that it happens soon.”