Marked Mate

9

SCARLETT

I mentally cursed Erica for encouraging me to wear heels tonight as I wobbled around the corner and into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind me, I pressed my back up against the wood. The cold object felt unearthly against my hot clammy back, and I breathed out a small sigh of relief.

Coming to the party was a huge mistake, but I just couldn't swallow my pride and give up the opportunity to show Olive that she wasn't going to have Roman.

Although I knew there was a possibility that when I left, he may take her up on her offer for marriage, but I didn't want to think about that.

There were too many people here. Too many opportunities for people to see my mark. I was supposed to be laying low until I built up enough strength to use my gift on Roman and escape, but instead, I was socialising with the people I knew would never be my family.

I patted my face with cold wet hands, making sure not to smudge my makeup. I wanted all of this so badly, and that was what was killing me. I wanted to be able to come to a party with no worry that people were going to discover that I was actually a freak and turn on me. I wanted to be able to have a few drinks without fear that I was going to expose myself.

The bathroom was huge - Wyatt's whole house was impressive - so I made my way over to the other end of it to sit down on the closed toilet lid. The loud bass from outside shook my bones, and I debated staying inside here all evening, before laughing at the preposterous thought. Roman would come and find me if I took longer than necessary.

The sound of a knock on the door caused me to jump, and I pushed my wavy hair away from my face, hopping up. However, as I did so, I lost balance due to the ridiculous heels, and I stumbled to the ground. "Fuck," I hissed to myself, my wrist burning.

Gazing at it, my eyes widened to see that the sleeve of my dress had ripped - having caught it on the knob of the cupboard underneath the sink as I had fallen. Blood trickled down my arm, and I immediately swatted it away in a panic, glaring at the torn sleeve of my dress that now left my mark completely exposed.

"Hello? I really need the bathroom. Are you okay in there?" called the person from the other side of the door, their voice slightly muffled.

"Yeah! Coming!" I yelled back, keeping my voice calm and collected, a few bottles of fancy soap clattering to the floor as I pushed myself to my feet using the basin as an anchor. The cut on my wrist wasn't too deep, but it was bad enough to warrant blood, and I knew that Roman was going to be able to smell it. I was just hoping that the scent of booze and the other wolves would mask it.

My face blanched as the door pushed open, and I gasped. I hadn't locked the door? Fuck.

Olive looked at me with worry, her green eyes darting to my ripped dress, mouth falling open when she spotted the bloody tissues I was using to wipe myself. "Oh my Goddess. What the hell happened?"

I angled my body so she couldn't see my hand, quickly throwing my tissues in the trash and attempting to move past Olive. She pulled her eyebrows together as she looked up at me - I was significantly taller than her in my heels. "Why are you bleeding?" she questioned.

I could actually see the concern in her eyes, and I hated the fact that even though she was after my mate, she seemed to have a caring and compassionate bone in her body.

"I tripped. I'm fine," I said, releasing a small sigh. It was clear that Olive wasn't going to drop this. She cocked her head in an attempt to get a better look at my wound, and I pushed my arm behind my back.

I didn't want to - but I had to do it.

Gulping, I pushed out as much disinterest and unconcern as I could, my brain zapping me slightly, but I relaxed once I saw Olive's eyes change. They were no longer wide and questionable. Instead, they had slimmed and she looked at me with little concern.