The music faded and my dance partner led me back to where mother waited with his father. She'd claimed a plush settee, somehow managing to look both regal and inviting as she reclined against the velvet cushions. She patted the space beside her, and I settled next to her with what I hoped was similar grace.

"Duchess Blackmoor was just telling me about her estate in the countryside," the elder nobleman said, his eyes never leaving mother's face. "It sounds absolutely enchanting."

"Oh, you're far too kind," mother demurred, adjusting her mask with delicate fingers. "Though the gardens are quite lovely in spring. The roses bloom in such profusion that their scent carries for miles."

I watched, fascinated, as she wove her web of words. Every gesture, every lilting phrase seemed perfectly calculated to draw him deeper into her thrall. When she described the marble fountains, her hands traced shapes in the air that somehow made me think of altogether different curves. When she spoke of moonlit walks through the rose gardens, her voice dropped to a whisper that promised secrets.

"My wife is quite fond of gardens," the nobleman mentioned, though his tone suggested his spouse was far from his thoughts.

"Is she?" mother's voice held just the right note of polite interest. "How delightful. Perhaps she'd enjoy visiting sometime. Though I find the gardens are best appreciated in more... intimate company."

The younger man leaned closer to me, clearly trying to capture my attention as his father fell further under mother's spell. But I couldn't look away from her masterful performance. Nothing she said was improper - not a single word could have raised eyebrows at the strictest social gathering. Yet somehow every sentence dripped with unspoken promises.

She described the library's leather-bound books in terms that made them sound positively sinful. Even a casual mention of the weather somehow carried layers of meaning that made both men shift in their seats.

"Of course," she said, toying with her fan, "the evenings are what I treasure most. When the moon rises over the lake..." She let the sentence trail off, heavy with possibility.

I felt the elder nobleman's desire spike so sharply it nearly took my breath away. His son wasn't far behind, though his attention remained divided between us. Mother's power was absolute - she had them completely enthralled without a hint of supernatural influence. Just carefully chosen words and perfectly timed pauses.

"I don't suppose..." the elder nobleman started, then cleared his throat. "That is, if it wouldn't be too forward..."

"My dear sir," mother's laugh sparkled like crystal. "Nothing said behind a mask can truly be considered forward, wouldn't you agree?"

The younger nobleman's gentle cough drew my attention back to him. His dark eyes sparkled behind his half-mask as he adjusted the silk cravat at his throat.

"Do you enjoy music, my lady?"

Something shifted inside me. My body straightened, head tilting at the perfect angle to catch the candlelight. The movement felt natural, instinctive.

"I find myself quite drawn to it," I replied, surprising myself with the cultured lilt in my voice. "Though I confess, I'm particularly fascinated by the way different instruments complement each other in chamber music."

His eyes lit up. "Indeed! The interplay between violin and piano creates such intricate harmonies. I've been composing a new piece exploring just that relationship."

Memories surfaced - music theory classes from what felt like a lifetime ago, blending seamlessly with more recent lessons on the art of subtle seduction. Without conscious thought, I found myself drawing on both.

"The challenge must lie in balancing the instruments," I observed. "Too much piano can overwhelm the violin's subtle nuances."

"Exactly!" He leaned forward, enthusiasm radiating from him. "Most composers fail to appreciate the delicacy required. In my latest work, I've attempted to weave the melody lines together like-"

"Like partners in a dance?" I suggested, gesturing to the couples still swirling around us.

His face lit up at the comparison. We fell into an easy discussion about composition and performance. Though I had no real passion for the subject, my body seemed to know exactly how to respond - when to ask questions, when to offer insights, when to simply listen with rapt attention.

I caught glimpses of mother from the corner of my eye, still weaving her own spell over the older nobleman. Her methods were flawless, each gesture and response perfectly calculated. Mine felt rougher, less polished, but no less effective. The young nobleman hung on my every word, even as I drew solely on half-remembered lessons and instinct.

"Perhaps," he ventured, "you would allow me to play for you sometime? I have a rather fine pianoforte in my music room."

I smiled, letting my fan flutter just so. "I would be delighted to hear your composition."

The older nobleman dabbed his forehead with a silk handkerchief. "I must say, the music has grown rather overwhelming. Perhaps we might continue our delightful conversation somewhere more private?"

Mother's fan fluttered delicately. "The noise is quite bothersome. What did you have in mind?"

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"The manor has several guest rooms," he suggested, his son nodding eagerly beside him. "Much more conducive to proper conversation."

I caught mother's subtle glance, a flash of triumph in her crimson eyes behind her mask. This was exactly what we'd been manoeuvring toward all evening. The perfect trap, and they'd walked right into it.

"That sounds wonderful," I purred, surprising myself with how naturally the seductive tone came.

We followed them through ornate corridors, my heart racing with anticipation. Mother glided beside me, the picture of aristocratic grace.

The younger nobleman's hand rested on my lower back as he guided me, sending tingles through my spine. My body hummed with excitement, eager for what was to come.

The guest room was lavishly furnished with plush chairs and a four-poster bed. Velvet curtains draped the windows, casting the room in intimate shadows broken only by flickering candlelight.

"Such a charming space," Mother remarked, settling gracefully onto a chaise lounge. Her fingers traced patterns on the fabric as the older nobleman sat beside her.

The younger man guided me to a settee across from them. My heart raced as I perched next to him, maintaining perfect posture despite the growing supernatural hunger inside me. The eagerness surprised me - I hadn't felt this excited about feeding since... well, ever.

"You mentioned your estate's gardens earlier," the older nobleman said to Mother. "I'd love to hear more about your botanical interests."

Mother's laugh sparkled like crystal. "Oh, I cultivate many rare specimens. Some quite dangerous if handled incorrectly."

I found myself mirroring her subtle movements, the tilt of my head, the careful placement of my hands. The young nobleman couldn't take his eyes off me.

"What about you?" he asked, voice husky. "Do you share your mother's passion for dangerous pursuits?"

"I'm developing new appetites recently," I replied, shocking myself with my boldness. When had I become so forward? This wasn't just feeding anymore - I was enjoying the hunt itself, the careful dance of seduction.

"Tell me more about your music compositions," I purred to the young nobleman, letting my hand brush his arm. "I find passion for the arts so... stimulating."

The conversation flowed smoothly between subtle suggestions and careful innuendo. Mother and I worked in perfect synchronization, slowly building the tension in the room. I caught glimpses of genuine joy in her eyes whenever she glanced my way.

Why was I so invested in this hunt? I'd always approached feeding as a necessity, not entertainment. Yet here I was, revelling in every moment, cherishing this experience like never before.

The candlelight cast intimate shadows across the room as Mother continued her delicate performance. Her fan snapped shut with practiced precision.

"My husband would be most displeased," she murmured, looking down demurely. The perfect picture of a conflicted noblewoman.

The older nobleman leaned closer. "Ah, but isn't that the purpose of these masquerade balls? To shed our daily constraints and embrace freedom for one magical evening?"

"You make it sound so... tempting." Mother's fingers traced the edge of her mask. "Still, I shouldn't..."

"No one need ever know," he pressed, his hand inching toward hers. "These affairs are quite common among the nobility. The masks guarantee discretion."

I watched Mother's masterful manipulation from the corner of my eye while focusing on my own prey. The young nobleman hadn't stopped staring at me since we'd entered the room.

"Your father seems quite taken with my mother," I observed, letting my knee brush against his.

"And I find myself equally enchanted," he replied, voice thick with desire. His eyes darted to my lips. "Though perhaps for different reasons."

The hunger inside me grew stronger. I could smell his essence, rich and intoxicating. My supernatural senses picked up every quickened breath, every spike in his pulse when I moved closer.

Mother's voice drifted over, still playing at reluctance. "But what if someone were to discover..."

"Impossible," the older nobleman assured her. "The masks protect everyone's reputation. That's why these gatherings are so... liberating."

He had no idea he was the one being hunted. Mother's carefully crafted persona had him completely fooled, believing he was the seducer rather than the prey.

The young nobleman beside me shifted closer, emboldened by the intimate atmosphere. "Would you permit me to show you the view from the balcony? The gardens are lovely in the moonlight."

I glanced at Mother, seeing her imperceptible nod. Both men were perfectly primed - ripe for the taking. They thought themselves the pursuers, never suspecting they were the ones being stalked.

"Perhaps we should give them some privacy," the young nobleman suggested, his eyes lingering on my lips. "There's another sitting room down the hall."

I stood gracefully, letting my hand trail across his arm. "Lead the way."

Mother caught my eye as we left, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The older nobleman remained oblivious, too focused on her subtle movements to notice our departure.

The hallway stretched before us, lined with ornate tapestries and flickering wall sconces. My heels clicked against the polished floor as he guided me to a smaller, more intimate room. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light across plush furniture and heavy curtains.

"Would you care for some brandy?" He moved to a crystal decanter on a side table. "This particular vintage is from my family's estate."

"How thoughtful." I settled onto a velvet chaise, arranging my skirts. "Though I find myself more interested in hearing about the man behind the mask."

He poured two glasses, clearly pleased by my attention. "Our lands stretch for miles along the coast. The sea air gives our grapes a unique character."

I accepted the offered glass, letting our fingers brush. His pulse quickened at the contact. "You must be quite proud of your heritage."

"Indeed." He sat beside me, closer than strictly proper. "Though tonight, I find myself captivated by matters far more immediate than wine production."

His eyes traced my form with undisguised hunger.

"Do tell." I took a deliberate sip of brandy, watching him over the rim of my glass.

"Your grace, your refinement..." He shifted closer. "I've never met anyone quite like you."

If only he knew how true that statement was. I set my glass aside, turning to face him fully. "You're too kind."

"I speak only truth." His hand found my waist. "This evening feels almost... magical."

I let my mask slip slightly, revealing just a hint more of my features. "Then perhaps we should make the most of it."

His lips crashed against mine without warning, strong hands pulling me close. My eyes widened in surprise at his sudden boldness. But what shocked me more was how eagerly my body responded, melting into his embrace as if it was the most natural thing in the world

My heart raced as his fingers tangled in my hair. The warmth of his touch sent electric shivers down my spine. Even after weeks in this form, the way my body responded to masculine attention continued to catch me off guard.

He pulled back abruptly, face flushed. "My lady, I apologize. I don't know what came over me. Such forward behaviour is unforgivable."

"Shhh." I pressed a finger to his lips, watching his pupils dilate. "There's nothing to forgive."

I draped myself across his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. His breath caught as I leaned in close, my lips barely brushing his ear. "In fact, I think we should continue where we left off."

Drawing back just enough to meet his gaze, I pulled him into another passionate kiss. His resistance crumbled instantly as my succubus nature took over, ready to feed.

The fire crackled softly in the hearth as the shadows grew longer around us...