Moonspell (1) Werewolf Romance

12. The devil you know - M.

The doors of the villa opened to reveal a large room filled with color, laughter, and luxury.

It looked like more than fifty people were gathered there; each of them seemed happy, secure, good-looking but most of all dangerous.

It smelled indeed like danger, that was what Mila's instincts were telling her.

Erik emerged from the crowd with his eyes fixed on her. He was wearing a suit and Mila noticed it suited him unexpectedly well. He was carrying a glass of wine and his eyes were sparkling. In that brief moment, she was convinced that she had never seen a more beautiful man before, not even on TV.

Without saying a word he wrapped his fingers around her hand.

Shortly after, she noticed Samira and Dahiru coming their way.

They were both as attractive as she had them in memory; so strikingly, aggressively beautiful that even the air around them carried a tiny bit of submission. Their clothes were ivory trimmed with gold and clung to their eye-catching, fit bodies, making them seem nothing less than royalty. 

"Welcome, Milena. We are happy to have you and Erik here," said Dahiru smiling and bowing his head.

Samira gave her a stormy hug and kissed her cheek.

"Oh, how beautiful you are. We are so happy to see you. Erik will make the presentations. Let me take your jacket. What would you like to drink?"

That woman seemed such a warm and nice person, it just confused Mila on so many levels. 

"Thank you, but I prefer to keep it on. I don't know. Water?" answered Mila shyly. She was still looking around, analyzing the situation.

"Nobody drinks water at my parties," said Samira pressing a glass of champagne in her hand.

Shortly after, they held a toast welcoming all the guests and the quartet started playing a slow song. Erik took the glass from her hand and led her to the dancefloor. She was too dumbstruck to protest. 

"What are you doing?" she asked and a frown formed on her face.

"I want to talk to you in private. What better way than this? People will think I am whispering poems or lude promises in your ears."

"I can't dance," she said curtly.

"It's a slow song, nothing complicated; just go with the music."

"Sure," she replied rolling her eyes.

Erik seemed to be an unexpectedly good dancer despite his height and muscled frame. He also didn't seem like a person that would enjoy these kinds of things yet he was. 

"You are good at this. How come?"

"There were times when it was one of the most popular distractions."

"Yeah in my grandma's youth..." 

Somehow irritated by that remark, Erik pulled her closer and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Milena, I beg you. Do not wander off alone, do not go anywhere without me or Michael, and do not talk to anybody tonight. It is dangerous and it is not a game," he explained, stretching every word.

"Why did you bring me here if I can't do anything?"

"Because it wasn't safe to leave you," he answered curtly.

"I cannot be kidnapped from the kidnappers or can I?"

"Mila, please. I beg you this time, listen and stay out of trouble." He looked intensely into her eyes.