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SIX

~Abella 


Why did I agree to this?


This is a bad idea. Not to mention, I look stupid, standing here, wearing a dress. I never wear a dress. It’s a purple dress, that I dug up from the back of my closet that I swear Sam gifted me once for my birthday a few years ago. It will have to do though, even if I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t need to look good. I’m just giving him is money back, that’s all…


Thankfully, once I step outside into the apartment hallway, no one is standing around to witness me walking around with a black duffle bag over my shoulder. It’s bulging too, clearly there to conceal something. 


Maybe I should just shove the bag into Cian’s chest and say goodbye to him forever. I have a feeling, though, he wants more from this dinner than the return of his money. 


And that thought scares me. 


Exactly I assume, Cian is standing just outside the apartment doors. He looks simply magical, standing under the bright illumination of the street light outside. He wears dark pants and and a dark blue suit jacket with faint glitter embedded into the fabric. It resembles the night sky so brilliantly, it almost hurts to look at. 


He looks a little overdressed to be going to the local bar and diner. Of course, he seems like the guy who wants to look the best wherever he goes. 


“I’ll have this put in the trunk,” Cian comments, as another man in a suit appears from behind me, taking the duffle bag from off my shoulders. I flinch, but I let him take it away to the car parked against the curb. 


At least that is dealt with. 


“You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” Cian says smoothly, to which I only tightly smile. I’m going to get through this night as quietly, and as quickly as I can. If I don’t seem interesting, why would he want to take me on another date. He’s so persistent I know if he wanted another, he would do his best to get it. 


We both get into the backseat of the car, which is an expensive luxury in this Pack. If only i had a car. It would make my life much easier. Of course, I don’t mention that. 


He would probably gift me one. 


“We could have just walked to the bar,” I comment, sliding uncomfortably on the leather seat as we turn the corner. Showing up in a car like this is going to raise questions with the locals. They will be sure to press me on it the moment he is gone. 


“Oh we’re not going to the bar. I have other plans for us,” he tells me, his feline smile lighting up his eyes with a flickering spark. 


I turn, looking out the window, my heartrate accelerating. What does this mean? The driver is moving us swiftly through the town, leaving behind the familiar bar and apartment buildings. Last night, he never specified anything, which means I could be stuck in a car with a crazy person who is taking me far away from home. 


It dawns on me, that perhaps he is taking me to his home. There is a suburb outside of my town that is for some of the wealthiest in this Pack. Sam and I used to joke about how such rich people could comfortably live next to the poor. 


Now it doesn’t seem so funny. 


We drive up the hill, smooth pavement underneath the car leading us up to the immaculate suburb made up of the most towering mansions. We move up the hill, passing many I marvel on our drive up. We stop at none, until finally, we hit a driveway that leads to the top most point of the hill. This must be his place. 


“I hold parties here every weekend, if you’re interested in coming. You can bring your friend too. I’m not always there, but if I know you are, I’ll be sure to stop in,” he tells me, to which I snap my attention to him. 


“You’re taking me to a party?”


I’m not a party person. I avoided parties all throughout my schooling, simply opting to hear about Sam’s wild stories instead. It just never interested me. 


“I thought perhaps a party would make you feel more comfortable. Plenty of people, plenty of space. Am I wrong?” he asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly. I grit my teeth. He is right. Being around a lot of people will make me feel much better, considering how many could witness if Cian tried to kill. 


No more is said until we arrive. I try not to gape at his house, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. This place stunning, looming much bigger than any of the houses I’ve seen previously. It’s almost magical, golden shimmering light casting from the windows onto the formal lawn just outside. 


“I hired someone from where I come from to design this place. He built the entire thing, and furnished it in one night,” Cian tells me, looking at me without a single flicker of humour. 


“Am I supposed to believe that?” I question, ignoring the door the driver had opened for me. 


Cian shrugs. 


Music greets me the moment I step out. It’s not the raging beat I expected. It’s rather refined, magical, like the most beautiful voice is singing right into my ears. Cian circles the car, offering his hand for me to take. I dismiss it, walking toward the entrance to his home by myself. Might as well get this over with as quickly as possible. 


Cian steps in front of me before I have a chance to enter this room. I was planning to get a drink, snack on some food before demanding he take me home, and keep that damn money. 


“Don’t talk to anyone in that room,” he says firmly. 


“Why not?”


“Just don’t. They have nothing interesting to say,” he tells me dismissively, before circling his arm around mine, whisking me into the manor. I had barely enough time to register the silkiness of his suit texture, let alone the sight that greets me. 


The people in here, aren’t normal. It’s the first thought that comes to mind, and although it might not be kind of me, it seems fitting. People, dressed to the point I feel ashamed for what I’m wearing, whirl around the room to the music, not a beat off. Vivid colours and glitter add to the scene in front of me, although I’m not concentrating as much on that. 


It seems, without an outlier, everyone in this room is beautiful. I catch only glimpses of faces as people pass me by. Different hair colours, eye colours and even skin colours appear before me that I’ve never seen in my life. 


I want to take a moment to drink it all in, but Cian pulls me away. 


“Why don’t we get some fresh air?” he whispers in my ear. I almost don’t catch it, for I would have protested if I did. 


I want to stare at these people some more. 


Cian leads me up a sweeping stairway. The top floor is dead of all movement, shadows creeping in through windows, turning the entire environment ominous. It’s a shock from what I witnessed downstairs, hearing the bottom of my sneakers pad against the plush carpet underneath my feet as sound returns back to my ears. 


“Are those guests from the Desire Pack? They look so magical,” I say, almost drunkenly. Seeing all of that sent me into a trance. I haven’t even considered trying to get out of here. 


“Something like that,” he mutters. 


“You say that alot.”


He doesn’t address me until we are suddenly outside, Cian pulling open two glass doors to reveal a small balcony. I lean against the rail, letting the gentle breeze kiss my cheeks. My mind is still trying to comprehend what I witnessed downstairs. Those people didn’t even look…real.


“Why won’t you take that money? Can’t you see from this place that I don’t need it?” he questions. 


Glancing up at him, I notice he looks almost offended that I didn’t take the money off of him. I’m sure in the Desire Pack, where he is from, people there are more materialistic, and would take his money in a heartbeat, but I’m not for that.


“I don’t need your pity money. I just got a promotion,” I tell him. 


I’m not sure why I’m sharing this with him. I want him to know I can look after myself, and that I don’t need him, a complete stranger, to supply me with my weeks rent. 


“Promotion? You work at a mail facility,” he says sharply. 


I’m too busy being offended by his tone to wonder why he knows where I work - I’ve already concluded he is either a full blown stalker, or an overzealous admirer. He obviously thinks he is better than me for having more money while I work somewhere only the most desperate people go for a job. 


“Actually, I’ve been asked by Alpha Noah himself to work in his mail facility. He even offered me accomodation, so I wouldn’t worry anymore about needing to pay my rent,” I say promptly. 


All of a sudden, Cian’s mood shifts. His jaw clenches, his eyes narrow on me, and before I can protest, he moves in front of me, pinning me against the railing to the balcony. If i were to fall, I would surely die. 


“You’re not going to take that job,” he says, his tone beyond sinister.


“Why not?” I question, looking for away to move his arms so I could escape. I have no other way to get down the hill, but running is always an option. 


“Promise me you won’t take that damn job,” he growls. 


Looking up into his eyes, I see pure anger. But I know that now, all doubt in taking that promotion is gone. 


I will take it. 

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