Epilogue
Nash
I stumble through the bustling crowd. Too much free champagne.
At least these rich bastards sure know how to throw a party.
The gala is still buzzing from the spectacle of some couple at the auction.
People love public displays of affection, and I love them too, specifically when they provide me with an opening.
The Donor Gala is one of the most prestigious events of the year, the highlight of which is usually the sale of those deemed to have extraordinary blood. But my highlight is much shinier.
At the edge of the ballroom stand twenty pedestals, all adorned with rare Vviveren jewels. Some old, some new, but all sought after. Worth millions. And no one is paying attention. Security got spotty with the two lovebirds on display, so all I see is a row of jewels, ripe and ready for the taking.
I snatch another champagne glass from a passing tray.
“Did you just down another glass of champagne?” The buzzing of my second rings in my ear.
“No.” I drop the empty glass into an overflowing trash can.
“There’s one guard at six o’clock, but he’s moving toward the stage. You’re open.”
I dip through bodies that reek of nervous sweat and expensive, too-strong perfume and cologne. The Starlight Diamond catches my eye from the display case, tucked back in the corner and barely visible through the blue velvet curtain covering it.
“You have ten seconds.”
My muscles spring into action. This is the payday we need, and it’s so close. I’ll finally get those assholes off my back, and—
A girl comes out of nowhere, knocking into me.
I steady her with my hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Miss.”
“No, I’m so sorry. I should have been looking.”
I can’t see her face, just a cascade of blonde hair and a pink masquerade mask adorned with fake crystals. It takes milliseconds for her scent to take hold of my body. It’s so achingly sweet and . . . desperate.
Wait. It can’t be.
“Alpha, what are you doing? You have seconds,” my second’s voice buzzes in my ear.
One more glance at the jewels, and time moves slowly. We need that money. I won’t have another opportunity.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Oh, please ignore me. I’m just being emotional.” She sniffs, waving me off. “Enjoy your night, sir.”
Her scent surges through me. This is her. Same golden eyes. Same blonde hair. That smell. No one else has ever come close to smelling the way this woman has. It has to be her. Evangeline.
“You guys talk some sense into him.”
The comms squeaks, and then all I hear is the roar of my packmates:
“You were so close! You had it!”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“He can still make it.”
“No, he can’t. Security is moving in.”
I pull the earpiece out, catching her hand before she can run off.
With the pink masquerade mask, all I have to focus on are her soft, pillowy lips and the redness of the whites of her eyes. It only makes the gold shine brighter.
This is her. I know it’s her.
“I can’t do that until I know you’re okay,” I say.
“It’s just been a really long day.”
“Wanna sit with me?” I motion to an empty bench.
“You’re probably busy.”
“No, I don’t have a date.” I smirk.
She follows me to the bench that’s nestled between two trash cans, and pulls out a small handkerchief to clean her face. My handkerchief. I’d hope it would give her some luck, but judging by how upset she is, I’m not so sure.
“Where’d you get that?” I ask.
“Oh, some guy gave it to me.”
Some guy, huh?
She’s lonely, here seemingly all by herself. I wonder what’s upsetting her this time. More guy trouble?
“May I?” I motion for the handkerchief.
She nods, and I take it to help her wipe mascara off her cheeks where the mask doesn’t cover.
When a waiter passes, I tug on his coat and snag her some champagne. She takes the stem of the glass between her delicate fingers and sips it immediately.
Those fingers . . . I wonder what they would feel like in my hair. The longer I’m next to her the more overwhelmed I am by the urge to make her feel better. It was like this last time too. But this almost feels stronger.
“Not enjoying the party?”
She shakes her head. “No, not really.”
I can’t stay here. I didn't exactly get an invitation for this event and I already have security giving me suspicious looks as they draw in closer.
“Wanna talk about it?”
She sighs. “It’s just not a great day for me.”
“You look lonely.” I move a piece of hair from her eyes. “Are you lonely?”
“A little.” She looks up at me through her lashes.
I hold her stare through the mask and the sweet scent of her arousal hits me. It’s subtle. To her I’m just a handsome masked stranger, trying to make her stop crying. She’s alone, crying again, and wants a different kind of comfort.
I’m not complaining.
“I would very much like to fix that.” I’m so close to saying the words.
But under no circumstance can I run away with her tonight.
I grab her hand. Maybe that’s the only comfort I can offer her right now. I don’t think it’s enough, but if I found her once. I can do it again.
Flipping her palm, I find her scar and trace my fingers over it. Her head lifts up.
“Wait. Have we met before?”
Yes. “No.”
Security is close, and I slip the earpiece back in and hear nothing but static as my pack goes ballistic on the other end.
“I gotta go. Can you promise me you’ll try to have a good night?”
I wave over another glass of champagne. “Take this. Run a bath and relax.”
“I . . .”
“Alpha, you need to go. Now.”
“Can you keep your promise?” I ask, standing and shielding my face away from the security guard. I can still get out if I leave now.
Something changes in her scent. Curiosity. Yearning.
“I do know you. How—”
I hold out my pinky, and lace hers around mine, her eyes sparkling. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
(Continue Evangeline and Nash's story in Once Bitten)