ALICE
Bourland’s exhibits were known for their pops in colour, and it didn’t disappoint. The gold tones of everyone’s clothing only added to the bright blues, purples, greens, and yellows that jumped from his pieces on display.
Cynthia stood next to Mr. Penn, Tom, in her very simple, yet elegant gold dress. She always aired on the side on conservative, especially where Tom’s roaming eyes were concerned, but me? My dress was meant to grab attention.
Ted was my social butterfly, the saving grace to my introverted nature when it came to social functions. When I had to attend things by myself I often made bold clothing choices to do some of the work for me.
The dress had thick straps of gold glitter, a deep V neckline that was held together by a frosted kind of mesh and across my waistline was similar sideways V cut-outs of frosted mesh. The glitter trailed off towards the floor-length of it and held a slit up the side that came to mid-thigh. Pairing it with clear heels that had a small platform on the bottom that held floating glitter was the icing on the cake.
Amara grew impatient as I walked from piece to piece, taking in the extravagant nature of them. A Bourland piece of art reminded me both of where I started and where I was going. One of the first spaces I ever designed was built around someone's existing Bourland painting. It was perfect for them, and the more I was around it, the more I fell in love with it.
I knew nothing formally surrounding art, only whether or not it lit emotions within me, but I listened to others comment on techniques, mediums, and how some of them really made a statement.
While I approached one with swirling greens and sharp edges, the next piece caught my attention, and it pulled all of my focus towards it until I found myself in front of it. While I wanted to soak in every piece here tonight, the last one had now paled in comparison and I couldn’t bring myself to want to pay it any more attention when I could be spending my time here.
This piece was raging and calm. Serene and a disaster. It was bright like life had exploded from the center of it, yet dark like its life had been tainted. The vibrant colours that reminded me of Nixon seemed to have a life of their own. Every movement of mine around it seemed to ignite new textures, new ways of looking at it.
I had to have it.
“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” A male voice half startled me, and as I turned to the right I still had to look up to see him, and Goddess me, something else was breathtaking.
{Back up,} Amara’s voice echoed like a soft whisper, unsure but knowing she had a mate that wasn’t him.
He was looking directly at me, not talking while looking at the art like everyone else. His eyes were an impossible grey colour as if they muddled after having every shred of colour ripped from them. His height and broadness were impressive, and I would have assumed he was a Wolf, but Amara was detecting nothing.
“They all are,” I tried to play it off. There was no way I wanted a bidding war, for all I knew he could be working with Bourland to drive up prices, “do you have a favourite?”
“Only one has caught my eye,” he finally shifted his vision back to the painting in front of us. His suit was perfectly tailored to him, and where one gets a gold suit was a mystery.
I could feel the shadow of my mate’s hands gripping my hips, his bourbon scent mixing with this man’s who had a scent of familiarity to him. It was smoky in nature, much like Nixon’s, but there was a rich kind of leathery tone to it.
I have a mate. Yep. Sure do.
I wanted to stop looking in his direction, but a woman with long black hair and brown eyes caught my attention as she approached him from the side, scowling at me as if I’d just taken her man. He leant down to her as she whispered that someone had just arrived, so he was clearly here like Tom was, to meet people, missing out on taking in all that Bourland had to offer. I was well-practiced at hiding my reactions thanks to my lifestyle before I turned eighteen, but it was hard to hold in my surprise when he dismissed her. She wasn’t too pleased about it, telling him that she would circle back soon.
“It seems, a store, as though my assistant has pressing matters for me to attend to,” he said flatly.
“Of course,” I nodded, a bit confused as I took a step past him, “enjoy the rest of your night.”
A store? He had a bit of an accent, maybe he meant to say something else.
A… store… a-ster… aster… did he think my name was Aster? With the way he rolled that 'r' he can call me what he wants. Amara huffed at that as she tried to be upset, but I could tell she wasn't.
At least it wasn't just me that he had all kinds of confused.
The farther I continued, the more the only Bourland that stood out to me got farther and farther away. We were provided with a contact upon entrance for buying purposes so I reached out to express my interest, stressing that I would top any offer that came in. Even though I liked to work for my own money, I would dip into the royal family fund for this if I had to.
“I’m sorry miss, but Mr. Bourland already has that one spoken for, and does not wish to entertain any other offers.”
Of course. {Sounds like it’s time for Ambrosia.}
To Ted: Bourland = fail. Alcohol o plenty, a change of dress/shoes, and a tinted ride needed.
~~~
“Teddy bear,” I finished changing in the back of the SUV, “how did I even survive before you?”
“Poorly,” he laughed, “now change your shoes. Best friends don’t let best friends wear mismatching shit.” Best friends, we were. It was hard sometimes to switch between being his boss and being his bestie, but I liked to think we managed it pretty well.
I kissed his cheek as I climbed into the front, changing into the more moderate heels he brought to match the black dress. “Well, bestie, next time I’m taking you to the Bourland show… no exceptions! I needed your charm and charisma to get me that painting. You should have seen it, it was beyond amazing, it deserved to come home with me, and instead, I’m afraid that it ended up in some asshole's kitchen.”
“Their kitchen?” He snarled up his nose, “What animals.”
“Exactly,” I shuddered, “can you imagine eggs being in the presence of such a great piece… eggs.”
“I’ll make sure you get three at the next one,” he laughed as he parked the vehicle and we made our way in, the bouncer remembering us from the previous weekend.
“Remind me to bug Cynthia about how many times she’s jumped that hot bouncer.”
“Oh,” Ted nodded his head in a big showy way, “at LEAST a handful. That boy is so pussy-whipped that we should be asking Cynthia to teach a class.”
The music grew louder, but Ted and I were used to communicating without needing to. A handful of drinks and several hours later it was safe to say I was pretty relaxed, other than the odd wave of Amara prowling the scents of the room, right up until I could smell the blood.
ALICEGoddess this was a bad idea. How did Alice die? Oh, stupidity.I followed the scent, obviously, with Amara on alert seeing as how blood usually meant Vamps. The closer we got the more worried we both were when the scent of the blood was mixing with that familiar scent… his scent.No longer worried for ourselves, we found a way out that made as little noise as possible and slid along the side of the building, rounding the corner to the alley in stealth. Why did it always have to be an alley?The only figures back here were two men who sounded like they were enjoying each other’s company, with a head pulled back and moaning as the other kissed his neck, but Amara was sure our mate’s scent was back here. With the scent of blood still hangi
LINDEN I sat in the corner of our room, watching Marcy as she slept. The slow rise and fall of her chest was all the assurance I needed that I was doing what needed to be done. I needed to fix this world for her, for the children she would give me one day. I wanted to lay her on my chest and feel every thump of her heart beating against me, but if she woke up in my arms she would be angrier at me than she was when she fell asleep. Her tear-stained cheeks were tearing a part of my heart out, but Marcy would understand one day, just like Alice, that she was my whole world, my reason for living, and somehow, I would make things right between us. Marcy was sensitive. Growing up in a coven shielded her from everything, adjusting to the violence that surrounded Wolves was hard enough for her, but she used to have
LINDEN "Did you just fucking die again?" I growled out, gripping Nixon's face and peeling it back from mine so I could look at him. I've watched him shift plenty, usually, the only time he's covered in ash is when he rebirths. "Didn't have time to strip," he rolled his eyes, "burnt my clothes like I'm twelve all over again." "Well, you certainly look twelve still," I glanced down quickly and back up in time to catch his smile. "I'm a grower, not a show'er," he ran his hands through his own hair, preening until he was satisfied. "Found a nest, but it was a fair distance away, and I’m quite sure what’s left of them has moved on." "Why can't you ever just recon without making yourself known," Declan grumble
LINDEN"There what is?" I tried to remain impassive, but I already knew I hit a nerve with her.“Sorry I’m such a disappointment for a mate," Marcy spat out at me, pain ripping through my chest as every word she spoke sliced through her, "someone who can’t even defend her children.” She turned from me and went to walk out again when she stopped in the doorway and spoke softly with her back still facing me, “I never asked to be moved from my coven, I never asked to be ‘Luna,’ I can’t help that I’m not the type of witch that can manipulate the world around me. All I’ve ever asked was for you to love me… for me… but all I’ve gotten is you trying to change me into someone worthy of your love.”I sat there trying to control my anger, trying to count down from twenty, trying to imagine my calm place, but moments later the table flew into the wall
NIXONI pressed my face into the bed, yelling into it until I was struggling for air. Fuck Declan, fuck the Vamps, fuck, fuck, fuck.I rolled over just as Onyx was ready to start destroying things, but the photo-filled ceiling stopped me in my tracks. I needed to get rid of this anger. Onyx was building an inferno inside of me because he wanted to see her.That girl I rescued was NOT Alice.I would support Linden no matter what, but I didn't always agree with how we were going about making the prophecy come true, except at that moment. At that moment, I wanted to watch every single bloodsucker burn alive.Alice is safe in Berkton.Alice is safe.Alice is always safe.I started to repeat sentences over and over again in my head hoping to lull both of us, but all it did was make me think more about how she's also impulsive and quick to temper.No.
NIXON Onyx wanted to fly, but he knew as well as I did that there was no hiding a Phoenix in the city, and that was something we could never chance, especially if someone followed us and it led them to Alice. My super speed though, that I could use. It took me a bit to get to the edge of the city but I flashed through the city pretty easily, hidden by the darkness. Maybe it was because I was getting closer to her, maybe it was triplet intuition, but the closer I got to Alice, the more desperate I became to see her. It was like something was drawing me to her with urgency, some silent plea she was putting out for me. Maybe it was just Onyx being crazy, that was a solid option. It was the early hours of the morning, she wouldn’t object to waking up and seein
ALICE I woke up listening to Nixon's heartbeat, taking in every ounce of his scent that I could, including the small part of him that must have been close to Linden. Linden's light caramel scent blended with Nixon’s sweet smokiness and I missed them both so much that every time he showed up here like this, all I wanted and all Amara could think about was going home. It was a trap set by my heartstrings, but I knew that giving in meant living the life of an heir. We were always watched, always judged when we stepped outside of Shadow Forest and the games that the Alpha’s liked to play, I wanted no part in. Nope. No thank you. The only regret I ever have is that I’m missing time with them, with the other people who made me whole and our other siblings. "I almost got stabbed last night for you," Nixon chuckled,
ALICE "He's not the same without you," Nixon paused and brushed some of my hair behind my ear, "We both want you to have the life you want Alice, but Linden misses you. You need to come home more, find a better balance, WE need you, and the pack gets restless without you there to ground them." "They have Marcy." "You’re their Alpha,” he levelled me with an impassive look that I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at. "I'll come home soon," I relented, "but I have things here I have to tend to-" {Like a mate} Just the mention of him made me stutter my words, feeling the creep of heat onto my face as my senses flooded with the caramel notes of Ian's scent. It