74-The Last Dance

Elena’s POV

My hands and face were as cold as a witch’s britches as I stepped through the doors of the banquet hall. I was almost immediately assaulted by the wash of colors and sounds that seemed to jump out at me from every side.

I was aware of the eyes that turned towards me as I floated through the isle, keeping my head straight as the hard back of the metallic silver mask itched against my skin.

I felt empty without Sophie’s overwhelming charm beside me and a rush of deja vu filled my body when I caught a glimpse of the firmly shit double doors where Sophie had met her untimely death.

“You came.” It was Michael’s deep grumble that made me stop in my tracks, aware of the wolves that watched us with the corners of their eyes as I turned to meet his impossibly handsome frame.

How had he recognized me with the mask on? My heart skipped a beat and I tried to control the rush of butterflies in my belly at the thought that the powerful Alpha had been staring at me.

“Michael,” I gasped,