𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝: 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

Chapter 7: A Cold Romantic Gala Part2/2

[continued]

His date's whole body seemed to vibrate once my identity landed. Breathing deeply I felt choked energy leave her body to enter mine. My basic introverted nature started to climb up with despair. Timid, reticent, and reserved I took a step back and sought after Tyler's notice of regard to calm me.

Inside my very soul, I felt him retreat away from my reach and it hurt like hell. So much that my skin burned from the inside.

My ferry mount of emotion was momentarily distracted when the girl beside him whispered to herself. "Jenna's famous fire born, huh." She scrutinized my face closely in a manner that wasn't predatory, or vile. Just deeply ruminative over the thought of Tyler's declaration.

A passing server took a moment, his tray held long-stemmed glasses with exotic champagne, I had flown in for the glorious event. Tyler swiped one, but she ignored the server. Distracted by how she was entirely focused on me, to the point where I could feel her skin deep. And also to the point where I felt pressured to drink, to wash away the discomfort of being under such blatant appraisal.

Being born equal parts witch and werewolf, of being famously cultivated to declare the night's right. I was a rare creature where elementals and freshly dead souls alike bent and fell to my will. I was a rumor cunning witches slit their wrists for, on my thirteenth birthday, so my necromancy abilities could be awakened. Therefore, I was used to foreign appraisals but, no one had quite looked at me like how she was. Or maybe they had, and I just hadn't cared enough to suffer the intensity.

It strung me high, in a very odd and tense way.

Her voice dropped low, calloused with what I could guess was her wolf's ranking, and articulated with a honey-made accent made from wealth and privilege. She hesitated, then later marvelled. "The way you're beautiful. Is it a segment of your... witch gifts?" whether she meant it or not, her words were a slithery hiss on my skin, their cold interpretation wrapping sinuously around my body.

I ran a hand through my hair and chuckled, "No, and I'm actually cis and was born like so." I nodded some more and spoke again, "Welcome to my court. My name is Stone Ravencroft."

"I know who you are." She took one dainty step closer to me. Her red bottom lip caught between her prison of pure white teeth. Her eyes fluttered closed and her up turnt nose took lead.

I looked at Tyler and pointed out, "Is your..." The staring hadn't been much of a shock but this was and I had no clue how best I could deal with that. Never in my years of hosting werewolves at our event had one ever done this to me. "...is your date scenting me?"

"If you don't want her to, you can just tell her to stop," he replied without even so much as looking at me.

I exhaled and faced her in the eye. I then inhaled again because I realized I couldn't just tell her to stop. And I couldn't figure out why.

Tyler drew in an annoyed breath and asked me, "Do you have a puppy?"

"I don't even have a familiar," I answered and at his blank stare I clarified. "No. I've never had a pet."

"Well, imagine if you had one, and you wanted to tell it 'stop' but kindly." he shrugged, turquoise eyes leaving mine. "Do that."

"Could you please not scent me?" I lifted a brow and croaked with my inside voice. "Stop,"

She stopped right at once, smiled widely, one hand lifting itself to press on the small of her own back. The other landing over her heart, with all the grace I'd seen before in my mother. She then lent a brief glance at Tyler. "Jenna's son, huh?"