Chapter 3 3

Cason Vincent moved with an arrogance that sucked the air out of the room. Morgana Vane clung to his arm, her eyes darting between the guests to ensure everyone was witnessing this collision.

Kamden shifted his stance. He moved his left foot back, angling his body to place himself slightly in front of Helena. A primal instinct. Protect.

Helena observed Cason's gait. It was precise. Calculated. He walked like a man who knew exactly where the landmines were buried because he had planted them himself.

They stopped three feet away. Close enough to smell the scotch on Cason's breath. Close enough to see the dilated pupils in Morgana's eyes.

Cason smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. It was a baring of teeth.

Morgana let out a small, theatrical gasp. Her heel caught-or pretended to catch-on the thick plush of the carpet.

"Oh!" she cried out.

She lunged forward. Her trajectory was perfectly aimed. She was falling straight toward Kamden's chest. It was the oldest trick in the book. The stumble. The catch. The physical contact that established intimacy.

Time seemed to slow down for Kamden. He saw the calculation in Morgana's eyes. He saw the smirk on Cason's face, waiting for Kamden to play the hero.

Kamden didn't move forward.

He took a sharp, deliberate step back.

He raised his forearm, rigid as an iron bar, not to catch her, but to block her from falling onto Helena.

Morgana, finding no chest to cling to, flailed. Her arms grabbed at empty air.

Thud.

She crashed onto the floor. It wasn't a graceful swoon. It was a hard, awkward impact of knees and elbows hitting the ground.

The sound echoed in the silent ballroom. A ripple of shocked whispers hissed through the crowd.

Morgana looked up, her face a mask of humiliation and fury. Her hair was in her eyes.

Kamden didn't look down. He didn't offer a hand. He stared straight at Cason. "Your date seems to be having trouble with gravity."

Helena looked down at Morgana. Her expression was cool, detached, like she was observing a spilled drink that the staff would clean up.

Cason didn't move to help Morgana immediately. He chuckled. It was a dark, low sound. "Clumsy things, aren't they? High heels."

From the sidelines, Dana Zhu had to press her hand over her mouth to suppress a laugh. Jasper Stone covered his smile with a cough.

Morgana scrambled to her feet, her face burning a deep, ugly red. She brushed furiously at her dress. "You could have caught me!" she hissed at Kamden.

Kamden dusted off his sleeve as if her proximity alone had soiled him. "My hands were occupied."

He reached out and took Helena's hand again.

Helena finally spoke. Her voice was polite, melodic, and dripping with condescension. "Do you need a medic, Morgana? Or perhaps a lesson in walking?"

Morgana glared, her mouth opening to snap back.

But Cason stepped forward. "Enough, Morgana."

He spoke. And the room seemed to vibrate. His voice... it was a deep baritone. Rich. Resonant.

It sounded exactly like Kamden's.