After some time wrestling into the costume, I stare at myself in the mirror. Noir stands behind me, yanking the ribbons on the corset tighter, forcing the air from my lungs.
Holy shit. How the fuck do they perform in this? I can hardly breathe.
Black fishnets cling to my short legs and the tiny, layered tutu flares out at my waist. The corset is sleek, sculpting my torso like armour, gold lace swirling over the silk fabric in elegant designs. A frilly gold trim lines the top, framing my breasts, pushed upwaytoo high for my liking. But... it looks cool, I guess.
I feel like I’m dressing for some extravagant masquerade, or Halloween, not an everyday job. It’s as if I’ve stepped into a role I don’t fully understand yet, but I’m willing to give it my best shot. I like proving people wrong and Madame is at the top of the list right now.
“Right,” Noir breathes, stepping away from me like she’s lost all oxygen while stealing mine. “Now let’s move onto the paints and contacts.”
“Can I do it?” I ask, trying to gain control over something.
“Sure,” Noir agrees, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “I’ll meet you out there?”
I nod, then stare down at the paints and gold contacts in front of me.
Noir and Blush exit the dressing room, leaving me in here alone with a few other girls getting ready for a day of training. I lift a thin paintbrush and dip it into the black paint.
“How hard can it be?”I mutter.“Halloween makeup. Same thing, right?”
“It looks like Madame is losing it. She’s hired another outsider.”A girl sneers to my right, and I side eye a group of them, looking at me.
“I wonder if The Shadows know she keeps doing this. One day, these people are going to expose us all because they don’t fucking belong here.”
My brows pinch as I pause. The Shadows? Who the fuck… And why the hell are they…
I growl under my breath, shoving their words aside and force my focus back to my reflection. I can’t be getting into fights already. The brush is steady in my grip as I lean closer and press the cool paint against my skin.
Slowly and carefully, I ring my eyes in deep black, dragging it outward into sharp, winged edges before pulling the pigment downward in uneven, creepy streaks—like melting ink. The effect is haunting, hollowing out my gaze, making my eyes look darker and almost sunken.
I move to my lips next, lining and coating them in a rich black. Then, I extend delicate flicks from the corners, like they’re splitting open, just slightly. My lips look fuller, butwrong, stretched into something just on the verge of evil.
Satisfied, I press a fingertip into the gold eyeshadow and the shimmer clings to my skin as I dab it over my eyelids, letting it catch in the hollows of black. I trail the same gold across the curves of my lips, blending it just enough to make the black gleam.
Leaning back, I take in the reflection. The hollowed-out eyes. The dripping intensity. The lips, sharp and unnatural. It’s a face that looks like it belongs to something not entirelyhuman.
I love it.
Then my gaze drops to the contact lenses, floating in their container, tiny golden orbs staring back at me from the liquid.
Shit.I’ve never put them in before and just the thought makes something in my stomach churn.
When I hear the girls whispering about me again to my left, I keep my eyes down, jaw tight, rage bubbling before I slam the paintbrush onto the table and my head snaps around.
“Why don’t you shut the fuck…”
The words die in my mouth when I see them all staring at the doorway, their faces frozen, the room suddenly silent like something just walked in and sucked all the energy out of it.
A thick, unnatural stillness snakes through the air, coiling around my throat while, slowly, I turn my head toward the door andeverythinginside me locks up inside me.
He’s standing there, staring right at me. Red swirling eyes drilling into me, dark and detached, devouring every inch of my body without a single word.
My breath halts, my pulse a frantic hammering against my ribs as my gaze drags over his shirtless body. Thick, jagged spirals of black and red ink twist across his body, slithering over every carved ridge of muscle, stretching down his arms, swathing his ribs, winding around his neck. His chest rises and falls, each inhale flexing the deep, brutal cuts of his abs.
His black sweats hang dangerously low, teasing the deep V of his hips, a shadow of dark hair trailing from his navel down—
Andfuck. I know. Ijust knowwithout a doubt what’s beneath those sweats is just as terrifyingly built as the rest of him. No way in hell a man this intense, this massive, thisfucking unrealisn’t carrying something equally horrific and shocking between his legs. It’s law of nature.
My eyes shoot back up, but not before catching the gleam of the silver piercings in both his nipples. Something dark and unfamiliar twists deep inside me.