The Wolf and his Moon

Lamborghini Huracan(6)

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Alacris Valencia

I was standing at the same point where that crazy dumbass fucker had pushed me trying to comprehend what the fuck was going on.

If he died today by the hands of the one because of whom he was shaking with terror, he would be lucky. So very lucky. If I caught him alive ever again, I would show him the true meaning of horror. That sleazy asshole.

I looked around trying to figure out whatever the hell was going on. Cameras were flashing on my right side snapping my pictures continuously while a crowd was present in front of me, gazing at me expectedly.

Everyone's attention was on me, waiting for my next move. It was like I was walking on the red carpet.

"Walk." Someone urged me from behind. I frowned and looked in front of me and sure enough, I was supposed to walk on a red carpet. The horror.

The mini-me over my shoulder flipped her hair and took out a Victorian styled vintage mirror to reapply her lipstick while batting her eyelashes.

They really were expecting me to ramp walk. ME, Alacris Valencia.

I took a deep breath to calm down my nerves and started walking forward with my chin-up like I have seen Dacey doing whenever she tried her new design. Chin high, jaw straight, facial expression neutral and walking ahead on an imaginary straight line.

But it was proving to be too boring and difficult and I was way too excited to maintain a bitchy face.

So smiling, I halted mid-step and did a few circular twirls like a ballerina causing my dress skirt to float in the air around me. I knew there was a reason I chose this one as my bridesmaid dress.

Time for a new move. Taking a few steps ahead, I did a full middle-leg split. Yeah, cheers to me. The cameras had gone wild now and the crowd's whispers were louder than before.

I wanted this picture on TV or magazine wherever they were publishing it. I demand an interviewed session printed on the side as well.

Things suddenly dawned on me. I was walking on the red carpet. People were snapping photos. I was going to be a celebrity so I rushed towards the crowd waving my hands.

I have heard a TV host say before that for any live show's success, you have to interact with the crowd. I did a single leg twirl enjoying myself, blowing kisses towards the crowd thanking them for their support towards my epic performance.

I was so damn proud of myself. The mini-me was now signing autographs on papers and throwing them towards the crowd winking at them.

Suddenly, I heard an animalistic growl near me. Trying to find the source, I looked at the crowd. My gaze instantly locking with a man.

A very handsome, fine and sexy man.

He had the face of an angel but there was darkness around him, surrounding him, glinting in his eyes.

He looked dangerous. Menacing. Untouchable. A ticking time bomb.

But so beautiful. Like a forbidden beauty. He was mesmerizing. And I was mesmerized.

I had this sudden urge to touch him to make sure he was real. He was here. In front of me. So near. But the distance between us still looked so much. Like I couldn't get close enough to him.