Abby

Karl leads me onto the dance floor, his hand warm against my back. The soft strains of classical music fill the air, and the elegant masks of the other guests twinkle in the dim light of the ballroom. As we start to move together, his hand wrapped securely around mine, I can't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement.

"You look stunning tonight in that dress and mask, Abby,” Karl says, his voice so low and thick that it's nearly drowned out by the music. “The color of that dress suits you perfectly.”

My cheeks flush with a rosy pink sort of hue, and I'm glad to have the mask covering my face. I glance down at the intricate lacework of my dark blue gown and the delicate Venetian mask that hides my identity.

“Thank you,” I reply, my own voice barely more than a whisper as well. “You look handsome as well. I like your mask.”

Karl chuckles, reaching up to touch the simple black mask covering half of his face. “You're sure?” he asks. “I was worried it's too simple.”

I shake my head. “No. It's perfect.”

For a moment, we just sway along to the music, letting the soft orchestral notes carry us around the room. I almost forgot how natural it is to dance with him. We used to dance together so often, and we always fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Finally, Karl clears his throat as his eyes scan the room. “It seems as though your masquerade idea was a hit,” he observes. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

I smile, feeling a sense of pride at the success of the evening. I glance around at all of the guests and take in their expensive gowns and tuxedos as well as their increasingly over-the-top masks. In the corner, one woman is wearing a mask fitted with bells and feathers, and a couple of other women are fawning over the intricacies of the mask.

"Well, you know me,” I say, my tone a little more playful now. “I always have good ideas, don’t 1?" He glances down at me, and there's a fond smile on his lips. “That you do,” he agrees. “This masquerade will be remembered for a very long time, I'm sure. And it'll be good for the...”

As he speaks, his voice trails off. But I know what he was going to say: that it'll be good for the election. It seems as though he’s trying to stay reserved, to not spend the night talking about the election.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” I find myself saying. “I know it wasn't easy to set all of this up so quickly, especially with what happened the other day. And...”

Now, my voice is the one that trails off. Karl shoots me a curious expression with half of his face still obscured by his mask. “And what?” he asks.

I shrug, biting my lip. “I never asked how you are since the other day,” I murmur. “How it must have been traumatizing for you, too. You've been so focused on me.”

Karl's gaze softens as he looks at me. “All that matters to me is that you're safe, Abby,” he says gently. “That's it. That you're safe and...” He pauses, his smirk returning ever so slightly, tugging at the corners of his lips like invisible strings. “...Spoiled.”

My face turns red again, and I quickly look away to hide it. “I do feel spoiled,” I admit. “And you'll be hearing from me about it soon. But I'll let it slide. For tonight, anyway.”

Karl smiles and takes my hand, leading me in a graceful twirl across the dance floor. My dress twinkles in the light, causing some nearby onlookers to gasp and point out the sparkling beadwork. I'm sure that they're wondering who this “mystery woman’ is that's dancing with their Alpha.

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