Chapter 3
THE FAWN
I down the rest of my drink, the liquid courage burning a path to my belly. Squaring my shoulders, I weave through the crowd, Natalie's whoops of encouragement fading behind me as I make my way over to the hottie watching me at the bar. He watches my approach, his gaze raking over my body in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
"Hi there," I say. It’s not nearly as smooth as it sounded in my head a moment ago, but when I lean against the bar beside him, he grins a little and I think it might have actually worked. Up close, he's even more stunning, and my fingers itch to touch the scrape of stubble on his jaw.
"Hello yourself," he replies, his voice a smooth, rich baritone. "Can I buy you a drink?"
I nod, biting my lip as he signals the bartender. "Sure. Vodka cranberry."
He orders a whiskey for himself, his eyes never leaving mine. "Damien. What’s your name?”
"Aria," I offer, accepting the drink the bartender slides my way. Fortunately, I’m not drunk enough to make a comment about his name being fresh from The Omen. Almost, but not quite. "Thanks."
Damien shrugs, a boyish yet wolfish grin on his face. "Pleasure's all mine. It's not every day I get to buy a drink for the most beautiful woman in the room."
I snort, rolling my eyes even as a blush heats my cheeks. The alcohol just makes it worse, but it goes down more easily than my last drink. "Does that line usually work for you?"
"You tell me." He winks, taking a sip of his whiskey before setting it aside. When he glances around the room, it’s like he has to tear his gaze away from me, and it locks right back on within seconds. "Care to dance?"
I hesitate for a moment, glancing back at Natalie. She's already found a new dance partner, a tall blond guy with his hands on her hips. She catches my eye, mouthing, "Go!" with an exaggerated thumbs up.
"Sure," I say.
Why the hell not?
I let Damien take my hand and lead me onto the dance floor. He pulls me close, his body fitting against mine like a missing puzzle piece as the music slows. We move together, swaying in sync as the bass thrums through the soles of my feet. His hands are warm on my waist, his breath hot against my ear as he leans in until his lips tickle my hair.
"You're an incredible dancer."
I hum in response, my arms looping around his neck. The sharp scent of his cologne fills my nose, something dark and spicy that makes my head spin. Or maybe that's just the vodka talking.
We dance through a few more songs, our bodies growing bolder, the space between us disappearing entirely. The hard planes of his chest pressing against my breasts, the flex of his muscles beneath my fingertips… it's even more intoxicating than the alcohol. Like he's put a spell on me.
Maybe tonight wasn't a huge mistake after all.
As the music fades into a new track, Damien pulls back slightly, his gaze darkening. "Listen, I'm actually heading to another party after this. It's at the Gilded Lady, top floor ballroom. Highly exclusive if you don't have a personal invitation. I'd love for you to join me. Your friends, too, of course."
I blink at him in surprise. Why would he do something like that? A red flag waves somewhere in the back of my mind, screaming that this whole thing just got super weird, but the alcohol buzzing through my body yells "YES" over it.
"My friends and I aren't really dressed for that," I said with an awkward laugh.
He waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about that. They provide masks at the door. It's all part of the experience."
"Masks?" I echo, raising my eyebrows.
He chuckles. "Masquerade theme tonight."
I hesitate, glancing over at Natalie and the others. They're laughing and dancing without a care in the world, Jules's bachelorette sash glittering under the strobing lights.
It is her last night of freedom. And when's the next time I'll get an invite to some exclusive party at the fucking Gilded Lady?
They'd kill me if I said no to this.
"Let me talk to my friends," I say, untangling myself from his embrace. "I'll be right back."
Damien nods, a confident smirk on his lips. "I'll be here."
I weave my way back to Natalie, pulling her aside with an excited grin. "Okay, don't freak out, but we just got invited to a masquerade party at the Gilded Lady. Top floor ballroom, super exclusive."
Natalie's eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. "Shut the fuck up. Are you serious?"
I nod, biting my lip to contain my bewildered laughter. "Dead serious. He says they provide masks at the door and everything. What do you think? Should we rally the troops?"
"Uh, hell yes we should!" Natalie practically shouts, already rounding up Jules and the others. "Jules, babe, how do you feel about taking this bachelorette party to the next level?"
Jules, already well past tipsy and edging into full-blown drunk, cheers enthusiastically. "I'm so down! Let's do it!"
The rest of the girls echo her excitement, and within minutes, we're all gathered by the bar, ready to follow Damien to the promised land of the Gilded Lady. He grins as we approach, his eyes lingering on me in a way that sends heat rushing to my core.
"Ladies, your chariot awaits."
We spill out onto the street, the cool night air a welcome relief against my flushed skin. Damien leads the way, his hand finding my lower back as we navigate the crowded sidewalks. Natalie falls into step beside me, her face split in a mischievous grin.
"Look at you, Aria Moreau, getting us into the hottest party in the city. I knew that LBD was a good choice."
I laugh, shaking my head as I look down at my skintight black dress. "Hey, don't jinx it. For all we know, this could be some elaborate scheme to harvest our organs."
Natalie snorts. "Please, like any self-respecting organ harvester would go for your liver after all the abuse you've put it through tonight."
"Fuck you very much," I retort, bumping her with my hip. "You're the one who drove me to drink."
We dissolve into giggles, the alcohol and the thrill of the unexpected adventure making everything seem funnier than it probably is. As the bridal party makes its way out of the club and down the crowded city streets, the good times keep rolling.
Damien glances back at us, a bemused smile on his lips, and I feel a flutter in my chest. God, he's just unfairly attractive. Maybe Natalie was right. Maybe I do need this, a night of reckless abandon and terrible decisions.
The Gilded Lady looms ahead, its art deco facade illuminated against the inky sky. Damien guides us through the lobby, past the raised eyebrows of the concierge, and into a waiting elevator. We pile in, the mirrored walls reflecting our flushed, grinning faces back at us.
This morning's Aria would be so embarrassed.
"Damn, Aria, you didn't mention he was loaded," Natalie whispers, eyeing the ornate elevator interior. "You hit the jackpot."
I elbow her in the ribs, heat crawling up my neck.
The elevator dings, the doors sliding open to reveal a dimly lit hallway. Music pulses from behind a set of double doors at the end, the bass a tangible thing, vibrating in my bones. Damien leads us forward, his hand at the small of my back again, making me shiver again.
Two huge men in suits guard the doors, their faces hidden behind sleek. impassive black masks. Damien murmurs something to them, too low for me to catch, and they nod, stepping aside in unison to let us through.
The ballroom is like something out of a fever dream, all swirling colors and writhing bodies. Elaborate chandeliers drip from the ceiling, casting everything in a soft, otherworldly glow. Waiters weave through the crowd, carrying tinkling trays of champagne flutes and cocktails in every color imaginable.
And the masks. Dear god, the masks.
They're everywhere, a dizzying array of feathers and jewels and glittering embellishments. Animal faces mingle with more abstract designs, the wearers' eyes glinting behind the disguises. It's surreal, like stepping into some strange, decadent wonderland where the normal rules don't apply.
"This is insane," Natalie breathes, her eyes wide as she takes it all in.
A laugh bubbles out of one of the bride's friends whose name I've forgotten by now. "Holy shit. Jules, your bachelorette party officially wins."
Jules grins, already plucking a peacock-feathered mask from a table near the door. "Damn straight it does. Now, let's get our masquerade on, bitches."
We each select a mask, the transformation immediate and thrilling enough that half the girls are already squealing. Natalie dons a glittering butterfly, the wings iridescent beneath the lights. The other girls choose an assortment of cats, rabbits, and birds until we're a veritable menagerie.
I hesitate, my fingers hovering over the options. A flash of reddish-orange catches my eye, and I pick up a fox mask, the pointed ears and sleek lines calling to me. I've always liked foxes, their cunning and adaptability, the way they seem to dance on the knife's edge between worlds as both predator and prey.
I slip the mask on, the cool material settling against my cheeks and forehead like a second skin. Damien watches me, having already donned a black crow mask, his gaze appraising.
"Looks like I found myself a vixen tonight," he purrs.
I grin, emboldened not only by the alcohol, but by the newfound sense of anonymity. "Better watch out, or this vixen might just eat you alive."
Wow, that was campy.
But he seems to love it. He laughs, low and dark, and pulls me into the throng of dancers as Natalie, Jules, and the others are surrounded by men of their own. Seems there's one for each of us. Anywhere else, that would be kind of freaky, but thanks to liquid courage and the elegant decor of the ballroom, I'm able to shove down the red-flag-waving angel on my shoulder.
As for the devil on my other shoulder, she's all for this.
"Promises, promises," he remarks.
It's electric, the way we move together, like we're the only two people in the room. The rest of the world falls away, until there's nothing but the pounding beat and the fire in my veins and the press of his body against mine.
And then, as quickly as it began, the spell is broken. Damien pulls away, his attention caught by a leggy blonde in a glittering cat mask. She crooks a finger at him in coy invitation and he goes immediately, leaving me flushed and breathless in the middle of the dance floor.
"Typical," I mutter, trying to ignore the sting of rejection.
I'm nothing special. He just wants to get lucky tonight. I should've known better than to get caught up in the moment.
I find Natalie again and the two of us fall back into our easy rhythm. She gives me a sympathetic look, her hand drunkenly fumbling out to squeeze mine.
"His loss, babe. You're a goddamn catch," she says, her painted lips over-emphasizing the last word. She sticks her tongue through her teeth and wrinkles her nose for good measure.
And then, out of nowhere, he appears.
A man in a wolf mask, the dark silver standing out starkly against the sleek strands of his platinum hair. He's tall, easily six-five, with broad shoulders that strain against the fabric of his impeccably tailored suit. There's something magnetic about him, a pull I can feel even from across the room.
He weaves through the crowd toward me like he's on a mission, his movements fluid and purposeful, until he's standing right in front of me. Up close, I can see the intensity of his steel gray eyes behind the mask, the way they seem to pierce straight through me.
"May I cut in?" His voice is low and cultured, with a hint of an accent I can't quite place.
Natalie shoots me a look, leaning back to study the wolf. "Oh, you absolutely may. I was just about to get a drink anyway." She leans in, whispering in my ear, "Get it, girl. And if you don't, I just might."
With a wink and a grin, she slips away, leaving me alone with the wolf. He holds out a hand, an invitation and a challenge all in one. "Shall we?"
I take his hand, letting him pull me close, until our bodies are flush against each other. He moves with a grace that belies his size, leading me effortlessly through the steps of a dance I've never learned but somehow know by heart.
"I'm Lucian," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "And you are…?"
"Aria," I manage, my voice breathy and foreign to my own ears. "Aria Moreau."
"A pleasure, Aria Moreau." He says my name like a caress, his accent wrapping around the syllables in a way that makes my toes curl. "Tell me, what brings a girl like you to a place like this?"
I laugh, the sound coming out slightly too high, slightly too breathless. "Would you believe me if I said I was kidnapped by a pack of wild bachelorettes?"
He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble that I can feel in my chest. "You don't seem like the type to let yourself be 'kidnapped' so easily."
"Oh?" I quirk an eyebrow. "And what type do you think I am?"
His hand slides lower on my back, his fingertips grazing the top of my ass. "The type who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to take it."
I inhale sharply, my body responding to his touch. "And if what I want is to get out of here and go somewhere more private?" I ask, emboldened by the mask and the heat flushing through me.
He grins, a flash of white teeth behind the wolf's maw. "Then I'd say lead the way, little fox."
We stumble off the dance floor, our hands clasped tightly as we weave through the crowd. I spot a door marked "Coat Check" and pull him toward it, my heart hammering in my chest. This isn't like me, this reckless, impulsive behavior. But something about him, about this night, makes me want to throw caution to the wind and just take what I want for once.
The coat room is blessedly empty, the attendant nowhere to be seen. Lucian lets me pull him inside, the door closing behind us with a muffled thump. And then his mouth is on mine, hot and hungry and demanding.
I moan into the kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair as he backs me up against the wall. His hands are everywhere, skimming over my breasts, my waist, hitching my thigh up over his hip. I grind against him, feeling the hard length of him through his slacks, my own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, the corded muscles of his arms.
"Fuck, Aria," he groans, his lips trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing my pulse point. "You taste exquisite."
"Just fuck me," I manage, my hands fumbling with his belt. Lucian laughs, a dark, wicked sound that sends heat rushing to my core.
And then his fingers are sliding beneath the hem of my dress, pushing my thong aside to find me already wet and aching. I gasp as he circles my clit with his middle fingers, my hips bucking against his hand.
"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for.
He answers with a thrust of his fingers, filling me, stretching me. I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as he works me higher and higher, his thumb pressing against my clit in maddening circles.
"That's it, little fox," he murmurs, his voice a low growl in my ear. "Come for me."
And I do, my body shuddering, clenching around his fingers as wave after wave crashes over me. He strokes me through it, his touch gentling as I come down from the high.
I've never come that fast.
I sag against him, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "Holy shit."
He chuckles, his gaze traveling over me appreciatively as I hold myself up against him, my legs quivering. "You're incredible."
I grin up at him, feeling wild and reckless and alive. "You're not so bad yourself, wolf boy."
He opens his mouth to reply, but a sudden all-too-familiar burst of laughter from just outside the door makes us both freeze. Reality comes crashing back in, the realization of where we are and what we just did hitting me like a bucket of ice water.
"I'll be right back," I mutter, hastily rearranging my dress. "I promise. And then I'm all yours."
Lucian's lips curve into a wicked grin, his eyes glinting with promise behind the wolf mask. "I'll hold you to that, little fox."
A shiver runs down my spine as I slip out of the coat room, the ghost of his touch still lingering on my skin. Natalie spots me first, her sequined wings catching the light as she rushes over. "There you are!" she says with a giddy laugh. "I was starting to think the big bad wolf had eaten you alive."
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I glance back at the door. It's open, and I don't see him. Did he already slip away? Did she hear anything? "Not quite, but it was a close call."
She pulls back, her eyes wide and sparkling with mischief behind her mask. "Judging by that face, it either went really well or really bad."
I bite my lip, fighting back a grin. "Let's just say if your definition of 'going well' is getting fingered in a coat room, it's going swimmingly."
Natalie throws her head back and laughs. "Aria Moreau, you absolute slut! I'm so proud of you!"
I shove her playfully, my face burning. "Shh!" I drop my voice pointedly. "Would you hate me if I abandoned ship early to go home with him? I don't think he was finished with me yet, if you know what I mean."
She grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Babe, I'd hate you if you didn't. Jules is three sheets to the wind, and the rest of us are well on our way. You've done your duty. Go get your wolf."
I go back toward the coat room, but I don't see any sign of him at all. After a thorough search around the ballroom, searching for a flash of dark gray among the riot of color and feathers, I'm starting to realize Damien wasn't the only guy who disappeared into thin air tonight.
I should've at least given Lucian my number.
I went back to Natalie, fighting back the sting of disappointment. "I think he might've given me the slip," I mutter.
She frowns, scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes. "Want me to track him down and drag him back by his tail?"
I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Nah, it's fine."
It's probably for the best, anyway.
She studies me for a moment, her expression softening. "His loss, babe. You're a fox—literally tonight—and you're fucking brilliant. If he can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you."
I can't help but smile. "Thanks."
Natalie drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as she steers us back toward the dance floor. "Now come on. Let's make that first asshole regret inviting us here."
I let her drag me into the throng of dancers, the pulsing beat and the press of bodies chasing away the lingering ache in my chest. We lose ourselves in the music, laughing and twirling and singing along to songs we only half-know.
And for a while, I almost forget about the wolf and his magnetic pull. Almost. But it's a little hard to get over being ghosted by not one, but two guys in one night that went from eating me alive with their eyes to wanting nothing to do with me.
I had higher hopes for Lucian, too. He actually seemed interested in me for some reason. Guess not. If he wanted to find me, he could.
I push the thoughts aside, focusing on the here and now. On Natalie's infectious laughter, on Jules's drunken and horrifying attempts at twerking, on the sheer joy of being young and alive and surrounded by friends.
All the shit I missed when I chose to put my dreams aside.
I don't regret any of it, not for a moment. But sometimes, I worry I passed up every opportunity to live a life that feels more than… mundane. Nights like this make it a little easier to swallow that uncertainty.
Tomorrow, I'll nurse my hangover and my bruised ego.
Tonight, I'm going to fucking dance.