The Grand Ballroom of the Manila Hotel was a cage of gold and crystal. It was the annual "Masquerade of Shadows" charity gala, an event where the city's elite pretended to be anonymous behind silk masks while aggressively networking for tax breaks.
For me, it was a minefield.
I stood near a marble pillar, gripping a glass of sparkling water. The "Solis Hum" was a low, persistent buzz in my ears, agitated by the sheer number of people in the room. Every laugh, every clink of silverware, every pulse of excitement fed the static in my veins.
"Breathe, Ethan," Jap whispered, appearing at my elbow wearing a mask that looked like a grinning fox. "You’re vibrating. The ice sculpture of the swan is starting to sweat."
"I hate this," I muttered, adjusting my own mask—a stark, black Venetian half-mask that covered the fatigue in my eyes. "Where is she?"
"Luna picked her up. They should be here any" Jap stopped, his gaze drifting toward the grand staircase. "Oh. Well then."
I followed his gaze, and the breath left my lungs.
Mika Dela Cruz was descending the stairs.
She wasn't wearing the oversized hoodies or the ill-fitting blazers I was used to. She was wearing a gown of deep, midnight blue that shimmered as she moved, like the night sky caught in fabric. It was modest yet striking, cutting a silhouette that made every other person in the room fade into the background. Her mask was simple silver, but her eyes—those curious, fearless amber eyes scanned the crowd until they locked onto mine.
Even from fifty feet away, I felt it. A tug. A quietness in the noise. The static in my head dipped, replaced by a sudden, terrifying clarity.
"Don't drool, it’s bad for the brand," Jap teased, nudging me.
But I wasn't the only one watching.
From the other side of the room, Adrian Cruz peeled himself away from a group of politicians. He wore a mask of crimson and gold, arrogant and flashy. He saw Mika. He saw the way she looked at me. And he started walking toward her.
"No," I growled.
I moved. I didn't care about the six-foot rule. I didn't care about the whispers as I cut through the crowd, my presence parting the sea of guests like a shark in shallow water.
Adrian reached her first at the bottom of the stairs. He took her hand, bowing low, his charm oozing like oil.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," I heard Adrian say as I closed the distance. "I’m Adrian. And you look entirely too radiant for a company that deals in gloom and doom."
Mika looked at him, polite but guarded. "I’m just an employee, Mr. Cruz. I think you're looking for someone with a bigger portfolio."
"I think I’m looking for exactly you," Adrian smiled, his thumb brushing her knuckles.
The air around me snapped. A waiter passing by with a tray of champagne glasses stumbled as the stemware suddenly vibrated in unison. A high-pitched frequency whined through the room’s speakers.
"She’s with me," I said, my voice cutting through the chatter.
I stepped between them, my back to Mika, facing Adrian. The tension was palpable. The air between us crackled—literally. A static shock arced between my shoulder and Adrian’s chest, loud enough to sound like a fabric tear.
Adrian flinched, stepping back with a frown, brushing his suit jacket. "Careful, Ethan. You’re leaking."
"Walk away, Adrian," I warned. The chandeliers above us swayed gently, the crystals chiming a warning melody.
Adrian chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Possessive. I like it. But be careful with that one, Ethan. Glass breaks so easily when you squeeze too hard."
He disappeared into the crowd, but his eyes lingered on Mika until the very last second.
I turned to Mika. She wasn't looking at Adrian. She was looking at my hands, which were clenched into fists at my sides, trembling with suppressed energy.
"You okay?" she asked, ignoring the hundreds of people watching us. She reached out and touched my arm.
The effect was instant. The swaying chandeliers stilled. The whine in the speakers died. The room felt... normal.
"We need to leave," I said, my voice rough. "Now."
"We just got here," Mika whispered. "And everyone is watching. If we run now, they’ll think you’re crazy. Or dangerous."
"I am dangerous, Mika."
"Then dance with me," she challenged.
I stared at her. "What?"
"Dance with me," she repeated. "Ground the energy. Jap told me. If the energy builds up, you need to release it or ground it. So, ground it."
Before I could protest, the orchestra began a waltz. Mika took my hand—my right hand, the one that usually destroyed electronics on contact—and placed it on her waist. She stepped into my space, shattering every barrier I had built for a decade.
We moved.
I was stiff at first, terrified that I would step on her toes or that the floor would crack beneath us. But Mika was solid. She guided me, her hand warm in mine, her gaze steady.
"You're doing it," she whispered, looking up at me. "The lights aren't flickering."
"I’m concentrating very hard," I admitted, though the truth was, I wasn't concentrating on the curse. I was concentrating on the scent of her hair and the warmth of her palm.
"Why does Adrian hate you?" she asked as I spun her gently.
"Because he wants what I have," I replied. "Power. Market share. And now... he thinks he’s found a way to break me."
"By hurting me?" Mika guessed.
I pulled her slightly closer, a protective reflex. "I won't let him."
For a moment, in the middle of the crowded ballroom, I forgot. I forgot the curse. I forgot the danger. I just felt... human.
But the universe doesn't let a Solis forget for long.
As the music swelled, a waiter bumped into a guest near us, sending a splash of red wine toward Mika’s dress.
My instinct triggered before my brain did. Protect.
I threw out a hand to deflect the spill. A pulse of invisible force exploded from my palm. It didn't just stop the wine; it vaporized it into a red mist. But the force carried through.
It hit the massive, ten-foot ice sculpture of a swan behind us.
CRACK.
The sound was like a gunshot. The sculpture didn't melt; it shattered. Thousands of shards of ice exploded outward.
Screams erupted from the crowd.
I spun, shielding Mika with my body. The ice rained down on my back, harmless against my suit but terrifying to everyone else. The music stopped. The room plunged into silence, broken only by the sound of ice skittering across the marble floor.
I pulled back to look at Mika. She was unharmed, sheltered in my arms, but her eyes were wide. Not with fear of me, but with realization of what I could do.
"Ethan..." she breathed.
"I told you," I whispered, stepping back, the cold returning to my veins. "I destroy everything I get close to."
I didn't wait for her to argue. I turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone amidst the shattered ice, while Adrian Cruz watched from the shadows, a glass raised in a silent toast.
The game had begun. And I had just shown my hand.