Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Anne
My heart thunders to the beat of the music blaring from the huge speakers, the bass so deep that I feel it in my ribs, in my bones, vibrating through the floor and up into my legs.
My muscles flex as I twist and move, eyes closed, matching every rhythm as bodies sway around me in a mass of heat, sound, and temporary escape.
Suddenly, my feet go still. My body turns rigid as a scent reaches my senses.
His scent.
A faint trace, but so easily distinguishable in this sea of humans that I catch it instantly. It doesn’t matter how subtle it is; I would recognize that unique scent anywhere. My eyes snap open and roam the club, darting from face to face. My pulse rate climbs.
For a second, I am certain I will see him. Certain he is here, watching. I scan every corner, every shadow between swaying bodies, every figure half hidden in flashing lights.
But Kain is nowhere to be found.
The scent fades. Or maybe it was never there at all. I shake my head at myself. Here I am, out in the world, trying my best not to think about him, and my mind plays tricks on me, making me smell what does not exist.
A sigh slips past my lips. I need another drink.
I weave through the bodies and make my way to the bar, flagging down the bartender with a raised hand. He arrives in seconds.
“What can I get you?”
“Long Island iced tea, please.”
He nods and starts mixing, his hands moving with an efficiency that reflects years of practice.
I lean against the bar and let my eyes drift back to the dance floor.
As I watch the people sway and laugh and lose themselves in the music, I wonder if there are others here like me, trying to do anything but think because thinking hurts too much.
The bartender slides my cocktail across to me. I take a sip, and the burn is immediate and welcome, chasing away thoughts I don’t want to entertain.
I take another sip and start moving back onto the dance floor. Maybe if I dance until my legs give out, I’ll be too tired to dream tonight.
But as I take a step, my heel catches on something—someone’s foot or a raised edge in the floor, I’m not sure. I stumble sideways, arms windmilling for balance, and my entire drink sloshes out over the rim of the glass. It splashes across someone’s shirt in a dramatic arc of amber liquid.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” The words tumble out as I reach forward automatically, trying to dab at the wet stain spreading across the person’s chest with my bare hands like that’ll somehow help.
“Anne?”
My hand freezes on the damp fabric. I blink and look up. “David?”
He looks just as surprised to see me. “Anne! What are you doing here?”
I pull my hand back, mortified. “I’m so sorry about your shirt.”
He ignores my words and grins. “Come on. Let’s catch up over a drink.
Before I know it, his hand is on the small of my back, and he’s nudging me toward the bar. We settle onto stools, and David orders for both of us.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” he says, turning slightly on his stool to face me. “Didn’t know you partied in the human district.”
“I’m trying it out.” I gesture vaguely at the space around us. “My friend Violet was always pretty comfortable in this part of the city, and we went out dancing around here one time. I think I like it. It’s pretty freeing. Humans sure know how to party. Even on a Monday night!”
“That they do.” David chuckles. “I’ve been stationed back at HQ for the past month, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned working in the Department of Human–Supernatural Relations, it’s that humans definitely know how to have a good time.
I enjoy this club in particular, actually.
Made a lot of human friends here over the years. ”
We chat about nothing in particular for a while, and then a brief silence hangs between us before he speaks again.
“So, are you here with somebody?” He looks around, and I shake my head.
“No, I just wanted to see what this place was like,” I respond, suddenly wanting to get away.
His smile widens. “You’ve changed. Hard to believe you’re out here checking out clubs.”
I try to smile, but it comes out as a grimace. “Yes, well…”
Our drinks arrive, and I hesitate. “I was actually on my way out, David.” I get up. “Maybe we can catch up some other time.”
Before I can leave, he grabs my wrist gently. I face him directly and notice that he looks nervous. “Um, are you—are you seeing anyone special these days?”
I pause before shaking my head. The motion hurts more than I care to admit.
He pulls me toward him slightly till I’m standing between his knees and asks, “I know you always say no every time I ask you out, but do you think there’s a chance it will be a yes this time?”
I want to say no. It makes sense to say no. I am somebody else’s fated mate. Except…
Except my fated mate doesn’t want me.
So, doesn’t it make sense for me to agree to this? How else will I move on from Kain?
David’s a good person. He’s been pursuing me on and off for the past four years, the only guy who hasn’t given up. Maybe…Maybe we can have something real.
I find myself saying a quiet, “Yes.”
His whole face lights up. The transformation is instant and complete. “Really? How about dinner Thursday?”
“That works.”
“I was honestly half expecting you to turn me down again.” He leans forward slightly, excitement making him look younger. “What changed?”
“I’ve decided to move on.” From what? What do I say? “From past love,” I finally manage, and my chest stings from how hard my wolf scratches at my insides, as if the words I’ve just said are like acid on her skin.
David’s expression turns serious again, but warmer now, hopeful in a way that makes guilt twist in my stomach. “Well, whoever that person is has no idea what they lost. I truly hope I can win you over and be the man you move on with.”
I let my tone become slightly flirtatious, testing the waters, seeing if I can force myself to feel something. “Maybe you will.”
His smile is pure and boyish, the kind that probably breaks hearts regularly. “I will. I promise.”
I am suddenly exhausted in a way that has nothing to do with dancing. “I’ve had enough partying for one night. Plus, I’ve got work tomorrow and all that.”
“Let me walk you to your car.”
We make our way out of the club together, the night air cool and sharp after the heat inside. He walks beside me, hands in his pockets, his smile never quite fading.
“Text me when you get home safe?” he asks as I climb into my car.
“I will.”
“Till Thursday night, then.”
“Yes. Dinner on Thursday.”
I close the door, and he steps back, waving as I start the engine and pull out of the parking spot. In my rearview mirror, I watch him standing there until I turn the corner and he disappears from view.
The drive home is quiet, just me and the road and thoughts I can’t escape no matter how hard I try. My wolf whimpers inside my head, a sound of distress and longing. She wants only one thing, one person. Not interested in David no matter how nice he is, no matter how much he clearly cares.
But I bite down on the feeling and grip the steering wheel tighter. I need to move on. I can’t be hung up for the rest of my life on a man who doesn’t even remember me.
The thought steels me through the rest of the drive, through parking and walking up to my apartment, through getting ready for bed and lying down in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
I need to move on. I have to.
I don’t expect flowers on my desk when I arrive the next morning.
A huge bouquet of deep red roses is sitting right in the center of my workspace, elaborate and expensive and impossible to miss.
I step closer, fingers reaching out to touch the soft petals, and find a small card tucked between the stems.
Here’s to trying to be the man you move on with.
–David
A smile tugs at my lips despite the complicated knot in my chest. It’s sweet, thoughtful, exactly the type of gesture that should make my heart flutter. And yet…
“Well, well, well.” Sienna’s voice comes from behind me, dripping with curiosity. “What do we have here? Someone’s sending you flowers?”
She squeezes into my cubicle before I can respond, practically bouncing with excitement as she leans in to smell the roses. “These are gorgeous. Who’s the mystery man?”
“David.” I pick up the card and show her. “From Human–Supernatural Relations. We ran into each other at a bar last night, and he asked me out.”
“David?” Sienna’s eyebrows shoot up. “Isn’t he the one you’ve turned down multiple times?”
“The same.”
“And now you’re saying yes?” She grabs my shoulders, turning me to face her fully. “Anne, are you actually moving on?”
“I’m trying to.”
Sienna’s eyes stay on mine for a moment, and there’s a tightness in there, one that lets me know she knows how hard this is. “Are you sure you’re ready?” she asks.
I can’t move my lips, the lie too bitter to say out loud. So, I nod. It’s all I can muster.
She pulls me into a hug. “I know this must be difficult, Anne. But I’m so proud of you for taking this step. You deserve to be happy.”
I hug her back and hold on for a bit. She’s right: I do deserve to be happy. At the very least, I deserve to try to be. And maybe this, maybe David, is my way of trying.
But as we pull apart, I turn slightly, and my gaze catches a movement down the hall.
Kain.
He’s standing near the door to the break room, far enough away that I can’t see his expression clearly but close enough that the angle suggests he’s looking in my direction. At me. At the roses on my desk.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second. His gaze feels like a fire blazing through me. My wolf whines at the sight, pleading for him, begging for him.
But I force myself to look away and turn my attention back to Sienna, who’s talking about what I should wear, still excited about this development.
He’s not my Kain anymore.
The thought repeats in my head like a mantra, like if I say it enough times, it’ll stop hurting.
I pick up the roses and find a spot for them where I can see them while I work, a visual reminder of forward motion, of trying, of maybe someday feeling something for someone else. Sienna eventually leaves for her own desk, and I settle into my chair, boot up my computer, and try to focus on work.
But my eyes keep drifting to the roses: deep red, beautiful, from a man who wants me. And every time they do, I see Kain. Standing in that hallway. Watching me with those burning eyes.
My wolf whimpers once more, a sound of mourning now.
I ignore her and look at the roses again. At the card. At the promise of moving forward, even if every part of me is screaming to run backward.
Thursday, I’ll go on that date. I’ll smile and laugh and try to feel something—anything—for David.
And maybe, if I pretend long enough, the pretending will become real.
Maybe.