Chapter 3 Gala disaster
Rain's POV
"I see purple hair." The woman gathered her stones into a dirty pouch.
"So I should go around looking for a purple -haired man? Lots of men dyed their hair purple." I rolled my eyes and left, slamming the door behind me.
Annabelle followed.
"No more looking for people to break my curse." I snapped at Annabelle who nodded into return.
"I'm sorry babe, I didn't know she was fake."
I slipped my gloves back on or thought I did.
“Rain, wait! ” Annabelle shouted, but it was too late. My bare hand brushed the hood of her car.
Flames erupted instantly.
“Shit!”
We both stumbled back as fire swallowed the vehicle in seconds.
Annabelle stared at the ashes, eyes wide and glassy.
“I just got that car…”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, throat tight.
She looked at me, tears trembling. “
Wear your gloves.”
I did. Slowly and carefully. Then I looked at what was left of the car.
I didn’t want this curse.
I didn’t want any of it.
But somewhere out there whoever that Aiden was, he had something that belonged to me.
And I was going to find him.
"Smile." Annabelle nudged at me as I serve a group of ladies drink.
Oh I hate parties, I rather spend my time digging centipede from the ground.
The ballroom was brighter than heaven and twice as fake.
Diamonds glimmered, cameras flashed, champagne poured like water.
And me? I was the help. One of the faceless ushers in black and white uniforms, trying not to trip while balancing a tray of glasses worth more than my rent.
I plastered on the professional smile I’d practiced in the mirror a thousand times.
“Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to the Moonlight Gala.”
I hated my voice. It was too soft, too polite.
If only they knew I’d rather be home, sleeping off the exhaustion of three other part-time jobs. But rent doesn’t pay itself.
"I'll be taking a break." I said to my fellow waitress. She nodded in return.
I sat on an empty chair at the far end of the hall, scrolling through my phone.
Nothing exciting, just notification pile of debts and bills to be paid.
Ugrrh.
I return the phone to my pocket. I need to find a real job not all these part-time job that could hardly pay my bill.
I wouldn't have been so broke if my late mother didn't leave debts of two hundred thousand for me.
Selfish.
Firstly, she killed herself because of man. Secondly she borrowed lots of money, swindled it and...
Tears stung my eyes but I kept it in. Now is not the time for self pity.
I will survive this.
Then came the voice I’d prayed never to hear again.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Rain Lancaster. The Alpha King’s little bastard.”
My hand froze on the tray. Slowly, I looked up.
Melissa Danvers.
My high school tormentor, now an A-list actress.
She wore a silver sequins dress, hair tied into a style I had never seen before. Curls at the front, ponytail in middle and a bun at the end.
What the helly! Girl stick to one hairstyle.
“Didn’t recognize you at first,” she said, smirking.
“But I guess it’s hard to recognize trash once it’s covered in servant clothes.” she added.
I swallowed the insult, forcing my lips into a line.
“Can I offer you a drink, ma’am?” I slightly lowered my head.
I can't lose the job Rain.
She leaned closer, so close no one heard what she was about to say.
“Do you still live in that roach-infested flat behind the market? What’s the rent now three coins and a prayer?”
I remained calm. The old Rain would’ve ripped her perfect curls out by the roots.
But the new Rain had bills to pay.
“Nothing to say?” Melissa cooed. “Maybe you’re embarrassed. Poor thing.”
Her laughter was shrill and ugly. And then...
Splash.
Cold champagne soaked my hair, dripping down my neck.
The entire table gasped, turning their attention to us.
This bitch had actually poured a drink on me.
I blinked slowly, my blood boiling.
“You didn’t just do that.” I glared at her.
“Oops. My hand slipped.” Melissa tilted her head.
“Then let mine slip too.”
The tray clattered as I dropped it.
Before I could stop myself, my hand connected with her face.
Melissa staggered back, clutching her cheek in disbelief. Her eyes turned molten gold.
“You little wretch! How dare you slap me!” she snarled.
Before I know it, her bones cracked. Her dress tore. In seconds, her human form melted into fur and claw.
She shifted, growling, hungry for blood.
I stumbled backward, heart pounding.
Melissa lunged claws flashing and tackled me to the tiled floor.
“Melissa, stop!” voices shouted, but no one dared to help. Not against a ranked wolf.
Her claws sliced through my sleeve, drawing blood.
"Melissa please stop." I choked out in pain.
Melissa threw me across the room, my back hit the wall, then I fell crashing on the table.
She carried me and pinned me to the wall, her claws tightened on my neck.
I look at my gloved hands, tempting to take them off.
Don’t do it, my brain screamed. Don’t take them off.
Tears streamed down my cheeks and I pleaded with my eyes but Melissa was relentless.
I heard Annabelle’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Rain, no! Don’t remove your gloves!”
Melissa’s claws dug deeper, hot pain spreading through my arm. Her fangs were inches from my throat.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
I glanced at Annabelle, crying, on her knees.
“Please, don’t... If you take off your gloves, Melissa will die!” Annabelle sobbed.
But I was running out of air. Running out of options.
I looked at my bloodied gloves, then at the snarling wolf above me.
If I take them off, she dies.
If I don’t, I die.