Deva stared down the beautifully elegant detailed purple gown hanging in her closet. The Masquerade was starting in half an hour and she was still finding it hard to put the dress on.

All the girls were wearing the same old vintage 18th century ball gowns but in different colors. Deva's dress was a nice imperial purple color that had a hit of pink mixed in with it. It came full with a bodice and huge flared skirts. She didn't know where to begin putting it on. Amy was supposed to help her get it on, but was called away for an emergency down in the ballroom.

Deva began pulling the corset over her body and it pretty much constricted her of all mobility. There was no way she was reaching the back on her own.

"Need some help," Marcus didn't bother to knock.

"Actually I do." She placed her hands over her hips while trying to hold the corset in place.

His bright blue eyes scanned her body with admiration. He began to lace up the corset very quickly and with swift ease.

"I'm guessing you've had your fair share in undoing corsets in the past."

"A few, yes. The undoing is easy. It's the tying up that can be a pain, but I've had a lot of practice."

"You're really Casanova, aren't you?" She shook her head laughing. He finished, and she could hardly breathe. "How did the women back then do this?"

"Beats me." He went for the hoop skirt and bent down for her to walk in. She did so and he pulled it up to fasten it around her waist.

"I'm going to look like a balloon."

"Yes but a very pretty balloon." She rolled her eyes at him. There was no way she was going to last all night. She was already fabricating excuses to leave early.

"All done." He led her to the mirror.

The embroider sleeves and bodice were divine and really embodied the elegance of royalty. She couldn't believe what different clothes could do to her appearance. She looked like she walked right out of a scene from Marie Antoinette. Her makeup was light, but accentuated her best features especially her brown eyes. Her hair was curled, and half was pulled up while the other bottom half hung down loose to her lower back.

"You look stunning. The 18th century would have suited you well my love."

"Thanks, but I doubt that the 18th century would have been able to handle someone like me."

"You're right. A spitfire like you would have eaten it up and chewed it back out."

She nudged him in the shoulder. "Probably." She went to put her shoes on and found it difficult to do so. She couldn't bend or do much in the dress. "If I faint tonight it's all do to the death trap surrounding my waist."

"The night will be over before you know it."

She sighed with deep discomfort. "I hope so, and if not, I'm retiring early."

"I'm sure my brothers would love for the invitation to help you undo your dress." Marcus knew how to lighten the mood. His brothers were anything but discrete when it came to their feelings for Deva.

"Would they rub my feet and massage my back too?" She could use it.

"I'm sure they would. You're missing something." He gently placed a black lace mask onto her face and helped secure it. "Now you're ready."

"Thanks." She then noticed he wasn't wearing a facemask. "Where's yours?"

He pulled out a sleek silk black mask that just covered the top part of his face. His captivating blue-grey eyes popped out immediately from the black fabric surrounding them.

"You look good."

His smile turned into a familiar wickedness. "Just good?"

"Would you prefer I drool all over that black Armani suit?" No doubt that was the reaction he was looking for. "But I bet your brothers look just as mouthwatering."

He took her hand. "I would hope so. We're wearing the same suit."

"You guys did it on purpose didn't you? You don't want people to know which prince you are."

He escorted her down the corridor. "Or perhaps we didn't want one person in particular to know who we were for one night because she always seems to know which one we are."

So they just wanted to keep their identities secret from her. "That's not fair."

"Come on love," he tried to change the subject. "The ball has already started. Plus I'm sure you'll be able to figure us out."

"I hate you." She whispered as they reached the ballroom doors.

He chuckled before kissing her on the cheek. "No you don't."

They entered, and Deva's eyes went everywhere. The grand ballroom was transformed into a beautiful dream-like atmosphere of gold and red. The drapes on every window were pulled back letting in the luminous wonders of the night sky shine through.

She had almost forgotten she was with Marcus until he started pulling her through the crowd towards the center of the ballroom floor where all the other potential girls were waiting.

Deva spotted Julia in her bright blue dress standing in front of another Marcus look alike. The prince in front of Julia smirked Deva's way.

Darius, she guessed as she positioned herself in front of Marcus. The music began to play, and everyone in the crowd stopped to watch their performance. They moved side to side in pattern of the music.

Deva fell into the rhythm of the dance naturally and focused her attention on her dance partner who was still Marcus. The group eventually switched partners as the music picked up and the guys twirled the girls. Deva felt a gentle grip on her hip as her new partner appeared. She looked up and was greeted by the same blue-grey eyes.

"You look stunning baby doll," he whispered in her ear.

"Right back at you Loosh."

He smiled and they twirled again, switching partners. This time she knew it was Darius next in line.

"Nice face prince, but I think I've seen it before. You should try being more original." She teased.

"Aww sweetheart I would, but that wouldn't be fair for my brothers. Plus it's my personality that wins over everyone." He led her in the group circle, stepping in sync with the others.

"You sure about that princey?"

"Positive. It won you over didn't it?"

She didn't get to respond because she was spun towards another partner. She scowled as she glared in his direction. Darius just chuckled.

The group dance came to an end, and it earned applauses from everyone in the ballroom. She didn't wait for introductions like the Queen said they would most likely have to do. The whole kingdom couldn't wait to meet the potential future queen. Deva dashed through the crowd trying her best to blend in. She made it to the small bar in the back by random and felt no reason why she couldn't have a drink while it was in reach.

She grabbed an already filled glass of wine and sipped it. It was decently strong and figured it was ridiculously old to have tasted so bitter. They were vampires after all, she reminded herself. The wine could possibly be a thousand years old for all she knew. She also noticed people drinking a dark red substance. It was too dark to be wine; it must be blood.

"Having a good time?" She turned to see Max. He was wearing a mask, but it didn't do much to disguise his features.

"Splendid dear chap. And yourself?" She mimicked in an impressive British accent.

"Decent. I must admit I'm happy to see you."

She took another sip of her wine. "And why's that?" She was keeping up her accent.

"Because everywhere you go, little Deva, chaos follows."

"Well I don't intend on making a spectacle tonight so sorry to burst your bubble." She didn't want people to always familiarize her with trouble.

His solid eyes melted and he timidly combed back his light brown hair from his face.

"Care to dance future queen?"

She slapped his shoulder. "Only if you promise not call me that."

He steered her back onto the dance floor. "I have a good feeling you will be though." She pretended she didn't hear him.

They danced and after people were beginning to come up to her. Max gradually introduced her to the high society people as they bombarded her with questions. Max didn't leave her side hinting at her discomfort as she crushed his hand multiple times. He admired her strong wits and polite comebacks as she addressed his fellow vampires.

She didn't show shyness or weakness as they engrossed in conversation. He noticed other male vampires staring at her with awe and a strange lust.

Many asked her to dance, and she didn't find it in her to refuse them. With every new song came a new male partner. She didn't mind. They always asked her questions of her life and her interests. When her feet began to tire she went to a vacant table and sat.

It took Max and Izzy only seconds to find her.

"Having fun?"

She tried her best to smile at Izzy. "Yes, but my feet are killing me. I don't think I can feel them anymore."

"The downside to being human." Izzy sympathized while Max handed her a plate full of food. "We thought you might be hungry."

"You must have heard my stomach yelling at me." She dug into the delicious warm food.

"Something like that."

Deva tried eating ladylike as best as she could, but dancing the whole night without stopping had seriously worked up her appetite.

"Where are the princes?" She managed to get out through her bites.

"Probably wandering about getting too much attention from all the women vampire. My brothers were a little frustrated earlier when mother and father ordered them to leave you ladies alone." Izzy explained.

"Why were they ordered to do that?"

"My parents wanted the people of the kingdom to have a chance to meet you and figured the boys would only get in the way by hogging you to themselves."

"So that's why it's been so quiet and stress free." Deva mocked.

Izzy's gaze wandered behind her. "Not for long. Here comes one."

Deva watched as one of the princes strode over towards her. His eyes were held captive by hers, not caring about the people surrounding him who were trying to start conversations.

He stretched out his hand. "Will you beautiful entrancing divine creature who I have longed and missed care to dance with me, a fallen besotted prince who seems to be under your spell?"

"What a cheeseball." She sucked her bottom lip to keep from laughing.

"Dance with me?" He bent down and kissed her hand.

So this one was cocky but it still wasn't much to go by. All three of the princes were cocky in their own way. She got up regardless of her sore feet, determined to figure out which brother he was.

"Now the question dear beautiful creature is which prince am I?"

It was like a shield was preventing her from even predicting who he was. The harder she stared into his enticing eyes the less he revealed.

"What is it, love? Have we actually got you stumped?"

She didn't like the amused look he was giving her. It could be Marcus, but would he make it that easy for her.

"Not stumped just temporarily confused."

He entwined one side of their hands and his other hand fell on the small of her back pulling her body closer to his.

"Oh my sweet, sweet baby doll. Have I told you how stunning you look tonight?" His tone and sweet smile so resembled Lucian but a second ago she could have sworn it was Marcus.

"I'm not sure. Have you?"

His deep hearty chuckle filled her ears and they swayed to the music. "Oh sweetheart?"

She huffed. "You guys are so annoying." But she wasn't going to give up. "Tell me who you are?"

She stared deep into his now lustful ocean eyes, hoping they would give her some flicker of indication to who he was.

"No." His eyes bore deep into hers and she felt helpless.

"Marcus?"

"Are you sure about that baby doll?"

"Ugh, no."

They romantically moved back and forth; the warmth of his body also adding to the hazy mess clouding her judgements.

"You're so sweet and honest Deva."

She brought her gaze back up and noticed how serious and sincere he was.

"How am I sweet?"

"You try to cover it up but underneath that ridiculously tough exterior you're kind and compassionate." He kissed her cheek. "And taste sweeter than honey."

He raised their hands and made her twirl to the song. Their eyes met once again, and she felt tortured by the unknown. How could this be happening? He was pulling off all his brothers' facial features too impeccably well. And tonight they all wore the same kind of cologne so she couldn't determine their identity that way.

"Who are you?" She commanded.

"I don't want to tell you." He was enjoying himself far too much.

"Why?" She felt his lips graze up and down her neck as a shiver ran through her body. She hated feeling so vulnerable and powerless.

"You are like the sun. Beautiful and irresistible, but also forbidden," his whispered voice was so soft. She laced her hand through his curly dark hair and he pulled back to look at her. "You're in my every thought. I'm drawn to the simplest things, like the way your hair falls down your back or the way your skin glows in any light." His hand was tracing the skin around her neck and collarbone. "Your sweet gentle voice that likes to throw crude insults at me." His throaty chuckle gave her no consolation. "But I find it compelling in every way. I can't get enough of you."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Enough of your wit." She felt her insides bursting then he kissed her nose. "Enough of your beauty."

It was killing her not knowing which brother it was, but she couldn't help the way he was making her feel. She loved his touch and his warm gentle kisses. He brought his lips to her ear.

"You have captured me in mind, body, and soul."

She didn't know what to do or say. She just knew she had to find out who he was. "Which brother are you?"

He shook his head, refusing to give into her pleas. "Still can't figure it out baby?"

Lucian? She wondered. "Please tell me," she begged not caring if anyone heard her. She had completely forgotten they were still in the ballroom surrounded by an audience.

He didn't reply and it was driving her nuts.

"Please." She got on the tips of her heels and kissed his cheek just underneath his mask. "Please."

She whispered again gently kissing the corners of his mouth hoping to soften him up so he would concede.

She dragged her tender kisses down to his neck, and she heard him moan. That was when she thought she had him. Slowly she raised her lips, kissing his chin in the process of reaching his lips. Perhaps if she kissed him, she could figure out which brother it was.

"Please," she whispered one last time as her lips brushed his but before she could push farther he backed away.

He stared at her with darkened eyes. It was as though he was suffering from some mental anguish .

"Love did you really think I would let you kiss me so easily?"

"Are you really going to play hard to get?"

She pulled down his face towards hers, using all her strength because she knew he would try putting up a fight. "Just one kiss, my prince."

Her soft sweet pleas were weakening him, he had to gain back control. "Sweetheart you're killing me here."

"Then don't fight it. Tell me who you are."

He stumbled back before he did something he would regret. "Sorry baby I can't, but perhaps one day you'll figure it out." His soft mocking lips placed a final kiss on her forehead, and then he disappeared.

The music stopped, and she dropped her hands, defeated. She promised herself she would find out which brother confessed his love for her one way or another.