Of course he can dance. He holds my back gracefully as we round the dance floor. His eyes linger on mine, soft and warm.

We're so close. He smells so good. I lean in a little closer.

"It's nice to get out, isn't it Dear?" He murmurs in my ear. It heats under his breath.

"Yes..."

"Hm. You look exquisite. This dress..." his hands dips to my hips, pulling me even closer. "It's gorgeous on you. It may look better on the floor though."

Alastair is demanding. But his demands are soft. More open ended. He knows me. He only demands what he knows I'll agree to, mostly.

He nibbles my ear, sending a spark through my body. Pleasure. It's been a while. It's been a lifetime.

"You're fluttering," he whispers in my ear. "I feel you."

My breath shudders. He chuckles, skimming my neck with his nose. I hate how easily he throws me off kilter.

I hate that I can't resist him, that I never could.

And worst off all, I hate that he's right. My stomach is in knots, my nipples standing against the soft fabric of this gown, a pulse between my legs and he hasn't even done anything.

"And? You're not going to Fuck me here," I clear my throat, closing my eyes.

He lets out a dark chuckle. "Oh my gorgeous Eleanor. We both know I have no shame. I would bend you over that table right now if I didn't think you'd kill me for it."

I wrinkle my nose. Yeah he is a shameless piece of work and it tracks with his history.

"Don't wrinkle up your nose at me, you cutie," he grins down at me. "You already agreed to put up with me and I won't be letting you back out," he murmurs.

And despite myself I'm relieved. The music comes to an end.

He's pulled away from me, surrounded by socialites. He shines. He's born that way. But his eyes are on me, even he speaks to them, charming as ever.

I shuffle back. He raised his brow, questioning me. I give him a small shrug.

He puts his hands up with a smile, denying to take photos.

"Champagne?"

I look over at the server, a young man. I nod, taking a flute of champagne.

"Thank you."

"It's uh...so fancy huh?"

I look over at him once more, nodding. "Yeah...stunning."

He lingers. "Sorry it's just...I know my people you know? Everyone here is so well...anyway would you mind if I just stand here for a minute."

"Be my guest," I lift the flute to my lips.

"Do you know him?" He asks softly.

I contemplate the question. Do I? Not nearly as well as he knows me that's for sure.

"I came with him,"

He glanced at me in surprise. "You came with Alastair La Rue?"

And that's where I knew the name. He once...I think he had it embroidered somewhere once. A handkerchief.

I lift the glass to my lips. Of course. Of course he owns this building.

"Ah...yes." Is my short answer.

"That's insane. He's well he's Alastair La Rue. What's he like?"

Don't be upset. Don't be mad. There's nothing to be mad about. He's just like that, Alastair. We're just...in two different lanes. Even after I turned into a vampire. Accrued wealth. He's just a different existence than me.

"He's...charming. A little inappropriate sometimes. He'd suck you dry," I quip.

His cheeks heat, but he doesn't inquire further as to my meaning.

"Sorry. I-I'm Zander. Uh...what's your name?"

"Eleanor," I reply.

Alastair eyes find mine once more. "Come here," he mouths.

I shake my head. His brows dip, his smile never faltering. This distance feels more natural to me, I suppose and maybe it always will.

Alastair doesn't seem to feel it. Neither does the rest of the world I don't think. In fact, I'm sure I'm the only who remembers.

Where I came from. What I am. Who I am. And I am not...I am not someone who stands next to Alastair La Rue.

God even his name is noble.

And maybe society has somewhat moved past the hierarchy of Noble and commoner. Maybe no one remembers.

Maybe everyone has moved on.

But I am still here. I am still there. I am still alive.