Chapter 18
Lirael
My hands clenched into fists at my sides as he continued down the line, each rejection more specific than the last. The women's faces registered confusion, then offense, then dawning speculation as the pattern became obvious.
"Build's too heavy," he said to a statuesque blonde. "I favor slender but resilient. Someone who looks delicate but has surprising strength."
Stop. Stop talking before everyone in this room starts looking for someone matching that description.
But he wasn't done. His final dismissal carried dark amusement that made my blood run cold: "None of you have what I'm looking for. My little pet is far more interesting than any of you could hope to be."
Little pet. He just called me his little pet in front of fifty of the city's most powerful werewolves.
Then his voice dropped to something darker, more threatening: "And if she dared show up somewhere like this, dressed to attract attention..." He paused, letting the words hang. "I'd strip her naked in front of everyone, drag her back to her cage, and leave her there for three days without food. Make sure she remembered exactly who she belongs to."
The threat sent ice through my veins. But it also sparked fury—white-hot and clarifying.
He doesn't know I'm here. He's not hunting me. He's just being his usual controlling, possessive bastard self, making sure everyone knows he owns something precious.
He has no idea his little pet is standing twenty feet away, listening to him threaten her.
The realization was both terrifying and oddly empowering. I was hidden in plain sight, close enough to observe him without the usual dynamic of predator and prey, captor and captive. For once, I had information he didn't.
Use it. Stay calm, stay hidden, and use it.
Beside me, Ethan shifted uncomfortably. "That's... intense. I mean, I know Alphas are possessive, but publicly threatening punishment seems excessive."
"Some people need very clear boundaries," I managed, surprised by how steady my voice sounded. "Especially if they have a tendency to wander."
Sebastian descended from the platform, the crowd parting to let him through. He moved with that predatory purpose I'd come to recognize, and I tracked his path while maintaining my position in the shadows near the silver-bark trees.
He's working the room. Probably looking for business contacts, political allies. This is just a social obligation for him.
The full moon's pull intensified as midnight approached, and I felt my suppressed abilities straining harder against the collar's dampening field. The ancient trees wanted to respond to my presence, the moss beneath my feet practically vibrating with recognition.
Not now. Keep it together.
"Moonlit Fish?"
I jerked my attention back to Ethan, who was watching me with concern. "You okay? You seem distracted."
"Just taking it all in," I said quickly. "The atmosphere here is... intense."
He smiled with understanding. "Yeah, full moon gatherings can be a lot. Want to step outside for some air?"
Yes. God, yes. Get me out of this room before—
But before I could answer, someone near us spoke up—a woman in an elegant raven mask addressing her companion in a voice pitched just loud enough to carry.
"Did you hear? Apparently Blackwood's been tracking something that escaped from his collection. Some rare acquisition that slipped its leash."
Her companion laughed. "Good luck to whatever it is. You know his reputation—he always recovers his property. And when he does..."
They moved away before I could hear the rest, but my heart was hammering again.
They're talking about me. The whole supernatural community probably knows by now that something escaped from Sebastian Blackwood's possession.
But they don't know I'm here. He doesn't know I'm here.
I glanced back toward where Sebastian stood conversing with a group of older Alphas, his posture relaxed, his attention focused on whatever political maneuvering was happening. He looked nothing like the tense, hunting predator I'd expected.
Because he thinks I'm locked safely in his greenhouse. He has no reason to suspect I'd be stupid enough to crash a werewolf gathering.
The thought should have been comforting. Instead, it made me reckless.
You're here. You're hidden. You have access to the most powerful people in the city, and for once, you're not the one at a disadvantage.
Use it.
"Actually," I said to Ethan, "I think I'm okay. But I would love to meet some more people. You mentioned networking opportunities?"
His face brightened. "Absolutely! There are a few investors I think you'd really connect with. Come on."
He guided me deeper into the crowd, making introductions, facilitating conversations. I smiled and charmed and asked intelligent questions while my mind worked on multiple levels—cataloging information, building connections, all while maintaining hyperawarance of exactly where Sebastian was in the room at any given moment.
This is insane. This is absolutely insane. But when will you ever have another chance like this?
We'd been circulating for another ten minutes when Ethan suddenly squeezed my arm. "Oh! Perfect timing. Come on, there's someone I really want you to meet."
Please don't let it be—
But he was already steering me toward a small group near the center of the ballroom, and my stomach dropped as I realized Sebastian was part of that group.
No. Ethan, no. Do not do this.
"Mr. Blackwood," Ethan said, voice bright with enthusiasm as we approached. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Moonlit Fish—my investment partner I mentioned earlier."
Sebastian turned, and those golden eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
Stay calm. The disguise is holding. He can't possibly recognize you.
"Moonlit Fish," he said, voice rolling over the syllables like he was tasting them. "What an evocative name. Tell me, what inspired the choice?"
I forced myself to meet his gaze, to ignore the way my pulse was hammering. "I've always been drawn to nighttime and water. There's something about the way moonlight reflects on the ocean—that space between light and dark, surface and depth. It felt appropriate for someone who works in the shadows of financial markets."
Poetic enough to sound genuine, vague enough to avoid specifics.
His head tilted slightly, studying me with the focus of someone examining something particularly interesting. "Poetic. And profitable, from what I understand. Ethan speaks highly of your strategic insights."
"I do my best," I said, keeping my voice modulated to the lower register the holographic disguise supported.
Sebastian's nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and I knew he was testing my scent beneath the perfume and the crowd and the forest simulation.
Please don't recognize it. Please.
"You smell like rain," he murmured, voice pitched low enough that only I could hear. "And something else. Something... familiar."
My heart stopped, but I forced a light laugh. "It's the perfume. There's a boutique near the waterfront that specializes in aquatic notes."
Lie. Keep lying. Make him doubt his own senses.
For a long moment, he just looked at me, and I couldn't read the expression in those golden eyes. Then his mouth curved into something that might have been a smile.
"How interesting," he said. Then, louder: "Would you care to dance, Miss Fish?"
Fuck.
It wasn't really a question. The words carried the weight of invitation from someone who didn't expect to be refused, and I saw Ethan's expression light up with pleased surprise.
If you refuse, it'll look suspicious. If you accept, he'll get close enough to possibly identify you. Either way, you're gambling.
But running now would draw more attention than anything else.
You're playing with fire. You know that, right?
"I'd be honored," I said, and placed my hand in his.