Orson
The moon is nearly full and I feel its effects like hot lava slipping through my veins.
Irritable, I stand outside the house, waiting for my brethren to finally finish getting ready. The tie around my neck is a noose, choking me. Suits are not what I'm comfortable in and it takes everything in me not to rip off the form-fitting clothes I wear. But this is a formal event and I refuse to make a mockery of my kind by showing up underdressed. The vampires already think themselves so far superior.
"Hurry up!" I call over my shoulder, a growl deep in my voice.
The front door opens and finally North appears, jogging down the stairs toward me.
My eyebrows furrow in a severe, angry slash. "What are you wearing?"
He stops and looks down at his t-shirt and dark jeans. "What do you mean?" He eyes me. "What are you wearing?"
I grit my teeth. "It's formal attire, North."
"Yeah, these are my best jeans."
Fucking hell. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to keep my cool. I am usually more patient, but as the full moon draws closer, my tolerance for bullshit plummets. "You need to get changed. Now."
"You think I own a suit?" He points to himself. "Come on, man. Be realistic."
"Do you want us to look like absolute fools in front of them?"
"Why the hell should we care what the vampires think of us?" He spits the word vampire like it is vermin in his mouth.
I step toward him, a growl rumbling in my chest. "I have spent the past four months working on this truce. I've spent the last six weeks away from the pack, surrounded by vampires, to ensure that no more blood is spilt. The least you can fucking do is wear a goddamn suit."
North sighs, inspecting my expression for a moment to see how serious I am.
I could force him; I may not be his Alpha yet, but I will be soon enough. He is under my command, regardless. But he's also my closest friend and someone I respect deeply. Forcing him to submit isn't something I want to do.
"I'll go change," he says with a nod and steps back. "You should check on Lark and Heath. I doubt they know the dress code, if they're dressed at all."
Cursing under my breath, I follow North up into the house and storm down the hallway.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I mutter as the distinct sounds of sex reach my ears, well before I stop at the door to their bedroom. I bang on the door hard just as Lark moans loudly. "Get the fuck up, both of you! Right now."
"We're going to need a minute," I hear Heath pant from the other side of the door.
"Or five," Lark adds, equally breathless.
"Get up and get dressed into something half decent or I'm coming in," I say.
"Don't you dare," comes Heath's warning growl.
Ten minutes later, Heath, Lark and North finally emerge from the house and meet me on the grass of the clearing. North is wearing a dress shirt, but is still in his 'good' jeans. Lark and Heath both look thoroughly fucked.
"You know, when I chose you three as my delegates for this event, it was under the guise that you would actually make an effort to uphold this truce," I say, injecting a healthy bit of disappointment into my tone.
Only Lark looks adequately scolded, sinking back into her mate with flushed cheeks. Heath tightens his grip around her waist. "Sorry, Reed. We're going to be polite and civil tonight. Promise," Lark says.
"Why are we leaving so early? The bloodsuckers didn't want us there till nine," Heath points out. "We would have been ready otherwise."
I check my watch and admittedly it is earlier than necessary.
"You trying to catch them off guard?" North suggests with a hint of a smirk. "That's not very truce-like of you."
I scowl at him. "I'm not trying to catch them off guard. Some of us just don't enjoy being late to everything. Besides, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave. Let's go."
North and I pile into a sports car, Lark and Heath following close behind in a car of their own. It feels unnatural to be crowded into a metal box with the nearly-full moon looming in the sky. The full moon is a time for running free through the forest, bonding with the pack and being in wolf form. This entire situation—dressing up in a suit, driving to meet vampires, acting like they aren't our mortal enemies—is wrong. Inherently. It goes against every instinct we have and wolves rely on their instincts.
But I have watched too many of my packmates die at the hands of vampires. My duty comes before anything, even before my instincts, and it is my duty to keep my pack safe. Making nice with the vampires will, hopefully, give my pack some protection. But only if we don't completely fuck up tonight.
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April
There is a cool breeze out on the balcony, fluttering my hair out of my face and helping to chase away the blush coloring my cheeks. We have been speaking for some time, but not about anything meaningful. The classes I'm taking, an internship I did at a law firm last summer.
In a lull in conversation, Nik leans closer to me and I become caught in his stormy, gray eyes. "Is this your dream, April?" he asks me and my brain processes the words slower than normal. Being close to him has that effect.
Is this a dream? This enigmatic, charming man being so clearly focused on me? It might just be.
"Yale," he clarifies and I blink. "Law school. Was it always your dream to be a lawyer?"
"Oh." That is not what I thought he meant. It takes me a moment to catch up. "Uh..." Do I lie? For some reason, I don't really want to. "No. Not...my dream, per say. But I enjoy the law, enough."
"What is your dream?"
He asks it like it's a simple question, like answering it should be easy. But the words stick in my throat.
"I don't...I don't know."
He hums, skimming his fingers beneath my hair, along the skin of my neck. A zing of energy shoots through me, my stomach clenching. I sway toward him.
"You're lying," he says quietly. "Why don't you want to tell me?"
"Because it's stupid. Unrealistic. Unachievable." These aren't my words; they belong to my parents, parroted from their mouths.
"With me," he says and cups my neck, his thumb resting beneath my chin to lift my gaze to his, "nothing is unachievable. I can promise you that."
I swallow, feeling the pressure of his thumb very slowly descend my throat. "What..." My voice is too breathy, I have to restart. "What's your dream?"
This makes him pause, his eyes resting on my collarbones. It's silent for a long moment, the only sounds being the chatter of the party inside and the crickets outside.
"To find purpose again," he says, so quiet I almost can't hear.
"You feel purposeless?" I wonder.
His eyes meet mine once again, strong and cunning. "Not for long," he declares and then leans down toward me. I grip his black, tux jacket as his nose brushes mine.
A dark, newly discovered desire unfurls throughout me as my lips part on a breath.
But then Nik goes stiff like steel beneath my hands and his head shoots up, his features twisting into a look of hate.
He curses in Russian and steps away from me.
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Orson
"This place is fucking ridiculous," North says as we stare up at the castle laid out before us. Heath has an arm thrown around Lark's shoulders, both their eyes wide at the obnoxiousness of the residence.
The overwhelming scent of vampires fills the air, making my teeth elongate, my pulse thrumming with the urge to shift into wolf form.
"You're all to be on your best behavior tonight. I mean it," I say forcefully, sending a meaningful glare at North. He holds up his hands innocently. "Don't cause a fight. We're outnumbered ten to one and we will lose."
"No fights," Heath agrees, glancing worriedly down at Lark, who is wrapped in his embrace. "Maybe you should've stayed home."
She puts her hand on his chest, above his heart. "Where you go, I go. It's going to be fine."
"She's right," I assure them, sounding more confident than I feel. This is walking into enemy territory; from this moment on, we are not going to be safe—if we ever are. "The vampires invited us here for reconciliation. So long as we don't cause a fight, everything will be fine."
"Whatever you say, boss," North mutters as we approach the doors. The vampire manning the entrance glares at us.
"You weren't expected until later this evening," he says.
"We're here now," is all I reply. "Can we come in?"
After a moment's hesitation, he steps to the side to allow us entry.
Here we go.
Meeting with the vampiric Council of Elders was bad enough, but somehow this is worse.
Silence falls as we come to a halt at the top of the three carpeted steps that lead down to the entertaining area, furnished in a hue of maroons and blacks. Why do vampires always insist on making everything as gloomy and dark as possible?
Each vampire is dressed impeccably in tuxedos and floor length gowns. I thought my suit would be formal enough to blend in but even I am underdressed, not to mention my packmates.
"I am not debasing myself by socializing with werewolves," a male vampire with a French accent mutters and strides out, straight past us, with a scowl.
North growls, anger twisting his face, but I give him a stern look that says ignore it.
Insults are to be expected. We need to move past our egos and just swallow it.
"Orson Reed," a familiar voice greets me and I see Beatrice approaching us. She dips her head, practically floating over the ground. "I'm glad you could make it. Welcome, come in."
"Thank you for your hospitality," I say through gritted teeth. The words sound forced, even to my ears. But Beatrice smiles easily. "This is Beatrice. She helped me to negotiate the truce with the Council of Elders," I explain to my packmates.
Lark is the first one to step forward, extending her hand graciously. "It's nice to meet you," she says. There is hardly a moment of hesitation before Beatrice shakes her hand. But, despite Beatrice's almost perfect facade of cordiality, I can still sense that she is put off by us. Werewolves and vampires mixing simply isn't natural.
"Come, why don't you grab a drink and take a seat somewhere," Beatrice offers.
"We don't drink blood," North snaps and I glare at him.
"Shut the fuck up," I mutter. Luckily, Beatrice only folds her hands in front of her, tilting her head to the side slightly.
"We have champagne or whiskey," she offers, although her voice sounds slightly more strained than before. "We took blood off the menu after you were invited."
North opens his mouth to retort something, but a sharp look from me thankfully shuts him up.
Beatrice turns and leads us further into the space. The vampires have resumed their chatter, but it is clearly all about us. They don't bother even attempting to hide the fact that they're staring at us.
"Beatrice, I wanted to thank you for your assistance in liaising with the Council of Elders. Without you–" My next words die in my throat as I come to a sudden halt.
Every instinct inside of me is screaming like the world is about to end...or maybe just about to begin.
Across the room on an adjoining balcony, the glass doors wide open, is the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
Auburn hair cascading across her shoulder, layers of blue fabric melting down her body, pale skin bathed perfectly in moonlight.
I know it as surely as I know my own name—the way a child knows its parents just from the sound of their voice, or a baby bird knows it has to learn to fly. It is instinctual, natural, an inherent kind of knowing.
She is my mate.
And a vampire has his hands all fucking over her.
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April
"What's wrong?" I am shaky, confused as to why Nik pulled away from me so suddenly.
"Stay here," he snaps at me over his shoulder, straightening his posture and lifting his head.
A low growling sound reverberates through the air. I peer past Nik and my breathing stops.
A man stands in the middle of the room, staring straight at us. There is something achingly familiar about him, though I can't place where I could possibly know him from. Warm, tan skin and dark hair, broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms.
"Get away from her," the newcomer snarls, glaring at Nik like he is the devil.
"Excuse me?" Nik questions, arching an eyebrow disbelievingly. "You and your mutts are early."
I am so confused.
"I said," the newcomer steps forward menacingly and, to my absolute horror, his eyes begin to glow unnaturally. "Get the fuck away from her."
Suddenly, there is a blur of motion and a loud crash as Nik is tackled back against the balcony railing.
Everything explodes into madness. The guests of the party attack a small, underdressed group that must have just shown up alongside the newcomer.
I stumble back and trip in my heels, landing on the concrete floor with an umph as Nik fights this newcomer with such speed that it blurs before my eyes.
With a hard whack, Nik slams him down, cracking the concrete beneath us with the force of it.
There is a snapping sound, like the breaking of bones, and I gasp as the newcomer begins to change beneath Nik.
The horror paralyzes me so that I am frozen on the floor, watching as this man contorts and starts to grow fur. It only takes a few seconds, limbs changing shape and body elongating, and then there is a wolf beneath Nik where a person once was.
It isn't just any wolf either; I would recognise those glowing, amber eyes anywhere. That black pelt, with flecks of a snowy underbelly.
It is my wolf. The wolf of my dreams.
And it growls at Nik and overpowers him, sinking its teeth into his shoulder and slamming him hard against the balcony.
There is a cracking sound, a shake like an earthquake, and then the world shifts as the floor beneath us caves and gives way.
The entire balcony collapses.
A scream tears itself from my mouth as I fall through the air. Never before have I felt pure terror like this.
In a cloud of concrete and steel, we plummet toward the ground. Suddenly, arms wrap around me and I am looking into Nik's eyes.
In midair, he twists our bodies, seconds before we collide with the earth.
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Nikolai
Werewolves are the bane of my existence. When I first encountered them in Russia a thousand years ago, I was high on blood, freshly turned and I thought of them as little more than an annoyance.
Then, a few decades later, I saw the true height of their power. I saw them tear apart a vampire I considered a friend and I realized that my dismissal of them had been naive.
Now, as I hold April in my arms falling to the ground surrounded by the destruction caused by a werewolf, I understand what they truly are: my enemy. I was again naive to think there could ever be a truce between our species.
Clutching April's fragile frame against my chest, I flip us in the air so that she is above me and we crash into the ground hard, skidding along the grass for a few feet.
Although I do my best to protect her, she hits her head against my hard shoulder and is out like a light. Above us, I can hear the rampage of vampires against the rest of the werewolf's packmates.
But my only concern is protecting April.
The black wolf quickly springs up, barely disoriented by the fall. I place April down carefully, standing in front of her unconscious body. This seems to anger the wolf Prince.
"Inviting you and your mutts was a mistake. Ever entertaining the idea of a truce was a mistake," I spit, glaring at the wolf in front of me, knowing that despite his animal form, he can understand me. "You are the inferior species. And you'll die for this."
He growls and leaps at me. I tackle him to the forest floor and we wrestle.
In human form, he's no match for me. But in wolf form, it is a different story. He is fast and strong. He dodges my attacks, swiping at my side and drawing blood. But at the end of the day, the wolf Prince is still just a pup, barely thirty years old. He is driven by impulse and emotion; there is no plan to his sharp attacks.
I dodge him easily and he doesn't realize that I am slowly leading the fight as far away from April as possible.
I use the trees to my advantage, ducking behind them, climbing and coming down on him hard. I sink my fangs into his shoulder, disgusted at the taste of werewolf fur and blood. But he throws me off, my body slamming into a tree trunk hard enough that the tree splinters and groans before crashing to the forest floor. The wolf Prince lunges for my jugular and only just misses as I roll out of the way.
A howl rings out across the night air; a call from one of his packmates. His ears perk up and he leaps at me one final time. When I dodge, he turns and runs, so quick he is a blur.
My bleeding side heals slowly. Injuries from a werewolf are always slow to stitch themselves back together.
Regardless of the pain, I speed back through the trees toward my house. But when I arrive at the rubble that was once my balcony, April is gone.
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