“Date with Arion? You? A Portocale?” he asks as though he can’t believe the words out of my mouth... “You know Emit?” he adds with the same level of incredulity.

“I’ve had a rough few months, and tonight was supposed to really suck. But I’m actually enjoying the way everyone averts their eyes and lets me simply dance the way I enjoy. Excuse me. Hopefully for the final time,” I say as I stand and start to walk off.

He quickly cuts me off, and I exhale harshly as he narrows his eyes.

“You’re deliberately ignoring me. How?”

“You’re quite annoying,” I tell him like it’s a secret.

Pushing by him yet again, I start walking, but I stop when Damien suddenly becomes visible just in front of me. I’m so relieved he’s stalking me right now, because Dorian actually seems to freeze in place, as Damien casually struts toward us.

“Issues, Violet?” Damien muses, as I glance at the clear hesitation in Dorian’s eyes, while he stares in surprise at Damien.

“My vampire escort disappeared when I started dancing, so I could use someone to keep the stalkers at bay, if you’re offering.”

His lips lift at one corner, as his eyes leave Dorian’s to meet mine. He looks good in a tux.

Really good.

I can’t believe I’m back to drooling over my boundary-smashing stalker.

I blame it on the atmosphere and the fact my life is upside down. It seems like I’m left in a constant, vulnerably emotional state these days.

Dorian takes a wary step back, as Damien moves to me, and even though we’re not the sort of friends who dance together—considering I just keyed his car recently—I still let him take my hand and pull me away.

“Why does he look scared of you?” I ask quietly once we’re far enough away from the new stalker, who is moving away from us instead of toward me for a change.

“Because he is,” Damien states flatly. “He only ever communicates with me over the phone. It’s rare he’s in my presence.”

“What happens when he’s in your presence?” I ask as he guides me toward the mostly empty dance floor that got abandoned earlier when I was really letting loose.

“He remembers how much stronger than him I truly am. Odd how he forgets,” he muses, sounding like he’s dropping hints.

“Immortal alphas don’t forget you… He can die?” I ask very quietly.

“It’s theorized he’s not a true Morpheous, for more reasons than just the name. Never mind that. Just dance, gypsy girl. He won’t bother you anymore tonight, and we oddly enjoy watching your exhausting, haphazard moves.”

“We?” I ask, just as my gaze swings up to the balcony and collides with Emit’s and Vance’s.

They just stare with stoic expressions, and I suddenly feel like I’m sitting under glass.

“Ah, Damien, you put pressure on her and gave her a case of performance anxiety,” comes a smooth voice from behind me as Arion’s body presses against my back.

I hate the way I react to him, even as a little hint of fear spikes the rhythm of my heart.

It’s like an unbidden shiver always accompanies his touch, and I’m starting to feel less and less of that fear I should feel, like he’s quickly wearing me down the way Damien has started doing.

Damien’s eyes seem to light up when Arion pulls me closer, letting his lips brush against my ear. “His heart is beating, little gypsy. Do you want to see what he’s capable of when that happens?” Arion asks in a dark, seductive tone.

Damien slowly shakes his head at me, even as he takes an unconscious step forward, eyes on me like he secretly hopes I say yes.

“When his heart beats, he’s not deadened. It’s certainly a turn-on when he uses your own pheromones against you. Ask him to give you a demonstration,” Arion whispers like the devil in my ear.

My gaze flicks up to the balcony again, seeing Emit and Vance leaning over it a bit more, eyes riveted like they’re also waiting to see what I’ll say.

When I blink, my eyes reopen on Damien, finding him so much closer. “Say no, Violet,” Damien says very quietly. “You’ll let him touch you too if I use anything here and now, and he knows it.”

I feel Arion’s grin against my throat, before he presses a soft kiss there, his hands slowly gripping my hips as he starts to move me to the music.

“I’m already touching her, Morpheous, and with a clear head, she’s allowing it because she’s not afraid of me. She knows she’s safe, and deep down, she enjoys the fact one of the worst monsters in here is enchanted with her. It makes her feel powerful after spending so long on the run as someone’s prey.”

I really wish I could say he was wrong, but the same vampires that trampled me earlier have avoided me ever since Arion landed at my side. They’ve moved out of my way, and certainly seem a lot more afraid of getting too close.

I don’t feel so hunted right now. It’s weirdly the first time I’ve been able to relax. And it happens to be in a roomful of monsters, which should be more of a surprise.

My breath hitches when I feel the very tips of sharp points grazing my skin, but Arion fortunately doesn’t press that boundary. He just teases me with the threat, as if reminding me he’s in complete control of his monster side.

Damien’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and I really consider learning a little more about him. Anna would be here begging me to say yes.

But I also know Arion really hurt Damien somehow, and I can tell he wants to do this as much as he doesn’t. Since I’m not exactly sure what pheromones are capable of inducing, I finally blurt out, “Another time!”

It’s so tragically cringe-worthy. I feel even dumber when Arion makes some sound of amusement, and Damien’s lips struggle to keep a respectable line.

“‘No’ would have been a far better answer,” Damien says, as Arion runs a finger down my cheek.

“Damien’s going to take you home for me, because I have a wolf and a Van Helsing to deal with, now that they seem far more agreeable,” Arion adds with that typical amusement in his tone.

My eyes flick up to the balcony to see Emit scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he looks away, his muscles tensing. Vance is staring right at me with a heated look I’ve only ever seen that one time.

I almost want to go to him, but then I remember he hasn’t bothered coming to me.

That’s when…Arion’s words register, and I turn around to face him.

He immediately bends down so quick that I startle, and his lips brush mine so softly, before he moves up to my ear to whisper, “Save me for last, sweet gypsy. I fall the hardest.”

He’s gone before I can even try saying the little speech I prepared that I finally have the courage to deliver about werewolves and vampire peace.

I groan, and when I look up, Emit and Vance are also gone.

“I let the omegas down,” I tell Damien, who comes to drop an arm around my shoulders like our intense moment has dissipated with Arion’s retreat.

He looks a little lost in thought as he stares at the balcony where the other two were.

“Your goal was to prevent a new war. That doesn’t happen in one night, no matter how good a speech is, Violet,” Damien says absently as he starts guiding me out.

I shut my eyes and let him lead me through the blood fountain maze, and I don’t open them again until we’re exiting. Funnily enough, a lot of eyes are on us as we depart, like they know Arion isn’t watching right now.

“I feel less powerful,” I say quietly…to myself, apparently.

Damien has vanished, even though I can still feel his touch.

As far as they’re all concerned, I’m walking and talking with myself.

He doesn’t speak, and more and more vampires studiously take me in, regarding me with far too much interest. As soon as we leave behind the peanut gallery, Damien returns to flesh, and I glare at the side of his face.

“Sorry,” he states very unapologetically. “I needed to see them watching you so I could see if any of them had any ideas. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to do so in my presence. Even those who forget me still feel my dominance,” he adds.

“Well?”

“Curious interest. No malice. Yet,” he says, adding that last word like a caution.

Shera meets me at Damien’s vehicle, my clutch in her hand, and she hands it to me.

“Congratulations. You’re officially safe from any future vampire attacks, even the unregistered ones,” she tells me matter-of-factly. “However, should you have any issues, please call the number on the card I left in your purse.”

With that, she turns and walks away.

“I think that’s the most pleasant I’ve ever heard her be,” Damien muses.

“That was pleasant?”

“Comparatively speaking, yes.”

When I finally manage to glance at my phone, I curse, because somehow it’s already after midnight. How long did I dance?

“If I ask what you can do with pheromones, will it turn into a demonstration?” I ask for the sake of curiosity.

“Most certainly,” he says as he opens the door for me, glancing back at the house. “Take my car, Violet,” he adds, shutting the door in front of me before I can get in, and then he pulls out the keys. “I actually need to listen in on what the three of them are discussing.”

I take the keys from his hands, not bothering to argue, and he walks around to the other side in front of me, opening that door for me instead.

After I’m inside the vehicle, he shuts the door and disappears. “Leave a window open for me,” is the last thing he says.

I can’t help but wonder if seeing him through his illusion was a trick Arion used with his astral projection, or if he can see him regardless.

I also can’t ask anyone but Arion or that memory will fade.

“I can’t believe I actually enjoyed a vampire party,” I say on a disappointed-with-myself breath, as I carefully navigate my way through the crowded lot.

It doesn’t take me long get home…without anything jumping out of the shadows at me.

It’s quiet and dark in the house when I get home, and I trip over Dad’s toolbox that was apparently forgotten in front of the door. The clumsy stumble doesn’t even interrupt the thoughts I’m so lost in.

The monsters are a complicated group of people, too complex for me to judge any of them based on one encounter. Besides Dorian. I really don’t like him. He was a little too pushy and insistent that I speak to him, and kept touching me, doing that thing where images pop into my head.

I’m not sure why he kept giving me images of me kneeing him in the balls, because that’s really what I ended up wishing I could do by the end.

When I pass the guest room, I hear Dad steadily snoring. Loudly.

A small smile graces my lips as I head into my room. If he’s still here next week, it’ll be the first time he’s spent my birthday with me since I was a kid.