E.J.

A reflection caught his eye, the swaying of the dancer’s hips twinkling her onyx beadwork as she wove through the guests. He took in her ample silhouette, her fiery mist of magic radiating with her movements. Like an approaching snake, a plan began to slide into place.

As if sensing a predator, the dancer turned, horned headdress standing tall in the crowd. And though her features were covered, the pirate knew the moment her eyes met his, for a river of hot current smacked into him.

He started toward her, and as he did, his nerves buzzed in anticipation of what he’d do next.

Yesss, his magic cooed in delight at his daring thoughts, we are not cowards like they.

No, he agreed, we are not.

With a sure hand, the pirate removed his mask.

The warmth of the room hugged his already-warm skin. He took a deep breath in, the scent of freedom running sweetly along his taste buds. Those he passed stared with shocked whispers as they took in his features, the first of their potential kind to reveal themselves.

He dutifully ignored them.

His identity would not be his weakness here. Not like all these others who clung to their disguises and false securities.

Let them know me, he thought.

Let my sins follow.

He had already been called a monster. Why not live up to the name?

After all, monsters were needed to make heroes.

And Alōs Ezra would become the kind of monster who made heroes of all.

“By the lost gods,” called Larkyra over the raucous cheers erupting as the twin giants detangled themselves enough to come closer to Niya. “I’ll easily give you four silver so long as you get your arse up here.”

“Love.” Arabessa balanced beside Larkyra. “Never reward a rat with food when it’s already made a mess of your kitchen.”

“Rats are resourceful, hardy creatures!” shouted Niya. “And besides, I’d hardly call this a mess—”