When Finn opened Cora’s room door, he stood for a moment on the threshold before going inside. Cora stood in front of an ornate stand mirror, studying her reflection.

She looked stunning and, thankfully, anonymous. Every eye would be drawn to her but, hopefully, no one would know who they were looking at.

A staff member had hurried past him while he’d stood guard outside the room, paints and brushes in her hands — she must have been the one who’d painted Cora’s face with such an intricate sugar skull pattern.

“Do you like it?” Cora asked, watching him in the mirror as he stepped inside.

“You’re still going to wear a mask, right?” he asked, before he could stop himself. The sugar skull did a good job of hiding her features…everything except her golden eyes.

“Does this count?” Cora asked as she reached up and drew a black veil over her face. It shielded her eyes and most of her face, and cast such a shadow over her features that the sugar skull looked uncomfortably realistic.

He came up behind her, encircling her narrow waist with his hands. Her red and black outfit comprised a corset and a layered skirt cut above her knees in the front and almost trailing on the ground behind her. Stockings painted with skeletal femurs, patellas, and tibias clung to her legs. A pair of black high heels lifted her an inch off the ground, but still didn’t allow her to reach his chin.

Finn drew the veil up, and toyed with her black curls. “I don’t think I’m letting you leave,” he said, but with a smile so she’d know it was a joke.

Her returning smile was faint, and her eyes darted over his expression as if searching for something.

Finn grabbed her shoulders, turning Cora to face him. “What’s wrong?”

She looked away, and nibbled her lip. “Nothing.”

“Cora…” His voice was low and dangerous. If she was having second thoughts—

“What if they think I’m just some girl, Finn?” Her eyes, wide with uneasiness, darted his. “What if they don’t take me seriously?”

“Of course they will,” Finn murmured, running his hands up the sides of her neck. “Javier’s corpse is proof enough they should start taking you seriously, if they don’t already.”

Her eyes flashed away from him again, and he gingerly touched her jaw, making sure not to smudge her elaborate face paint.

“Cora, I might not act like it, but I do believe in you. In what you are, what you will become.”

Her eyes grew wet, but she blinked furiously and those pre-emptive tears vanished again.

“Now it’s time you believed in yourself.”

“But what if I’ve made a mistake?” she whispered. “What if something goes wrong?”

He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t. That the party would be just that — a celebration of her twenty-one years on this planet.

Too many people. Too many faces.

And he agreed with his beast. Despite the guest list, although Lars had promised he would frisk everyone down…something felt wrong about tonight — like a blood moon casting its uncanny light on the world.

But this wasn’t some rare cosmic event.

This was Cora, and he’d promised to support her. To protect her. To obey her.

The only problem was, he had a feeling only one out of the three could ever be possible.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, drawing her close so he could plant a kiss beside the blood-red flower adorning her head.