“Are you sure you want to come to the party?” I asked Aran as she used an enchanted wand to curl my hair.
My blue-haired bestie rolled her eyes as she continued to work magic on my straight locks.
Big, bouncy curls spiraled down my back in a beautiful waterfall as we sat in front of the mirror in the bedroom.
All the men were in the living area. Aran had locked the door so they would stop coming in and asking how much longer we needed to get ready.
“The queen is having foreign dignitaries over, and I refuse to be paraded about like a stuffed chicken. She won’t think to look for me here because she thinks I’ve been in my room all day. She doesn’t know I have a transport enchantment.” Aran flashed a sparkly bracelet on her wrist.
“How did you get one if they’re so rare?” I asked as I admired my pretty hair.
It had shocked me when my best friend had just poofed into my room this afternoon, holding a bagful of dresses and a box of beauty products.
Apparently, the bracelet allowed her to travel throughout the fae realm.
Aran brushed out my curls and added oil to them. “I just masqueraded as a dockworker at one of the fae ports. I slit the throat of an infamous fire fae that was wearing it. He was trafficking illicit stones through the realm and needed a way to transport them without getting caught. You should have seen him; he gurgled like a baby. So dramatic.” She rolled her big blue eyes like she wasn’t talking about slitting a man’s throat.
I gaped in the mirror at Aran and reminded myself that looks could be deceiving.
Just because Aran appeared to be an effervescent fae creature of light and softness, that didn’t mean she was one.
She was low key terrifying and someone I aspired to be like.
Her grin turned devious, and suddenly she launched herself at my face in a flurry of limbs and powders. “Now we contour.”
Finally, after what seemed like an hour of intensive manual labor, Aran stepped back and motioned at the mirror.
Once again, my mouth dropped. “Holy tits, what enchantment did you use?”
Usually, my cheekbones were a little too harsh and my nose too small.
Now all my harsh edges were softened, and I looked pretty and delicate, almost like Aran.
She grinned and showcased a row of white teeth. “No enchantments, just makeup. Now the fun part starts!” Aran clapped her hands and pulled out a couple of dresses.
She held a webbed black dress to the light and then put it in front of me. “What do you think about this one?”
I pursed my lips as I considered it. “It’s more string than dress, and I don’t know if I’m ready to commit to that much skin on display. If I’m going to have a successful ho phase, I need to slowly build into it. Otherwise, everyone will think it’s a one-off moment and not a lifestyle.”
Aran nodded and pursed her lips like we were figuring out how to seduce the fae vampyre—which I still did not know how to do—not choosing a dress for a party.
“This one screams ‘I’m a freak’ but in a classy way.” Aran held up a white dress in front of me.
The dress was a classic silky sheath, but it only had thin straps and the cowl scooped super low.
I tried it on…and fell in love. Then, like mature, adult women, Aran and I held hands and jumped up and down while we squealed.
Unlike the Ianuarius celebration that had been stuffy and full of reporters, this was supposed to be a private celebration to get drunk and let off steam.
Two things I was looking forward to.
After the events of the last few weeks, it would take concerning little convincing, and I’d dabble with hard drugs.
I was usually a boss at repressing emotions and ignoring them, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night.
My most common nightmare—everyone screamed obscenities at me in the fae language. I screamed at them that I wasn’t a fae, but they beat me with sticks until I was covered in blood.
Every time, I woke up convinced I was bleeding to death.
Instead of focusing on the terrifying reality that was my life, I focused on more important things.
“I’m saying yes to the dress,” I wailed dramatically as I inspected my reflection in the mirror. I had heard someone say that on bootleg human TV and always wanted to repeat it.
Yes, I was highly skilled at dissociating from the traumas of my reality.
Therefore, I focused on my boobs, which were defying gravity so much they’d invented a new force. Enchanted fae boob tape was life changing.
No longer covered in scars, my perky gold tits pushed high on my chest and made me look like a million bucks.
“Here, finishing touches.” Aran grabbed black stilettos with cute little red bows on the back, out of her box. She also sprayed my whole body with oil until my golden skin shimmered.
“What about you?” I asked with concern. She’d spent the last two hours transforming me into the baddest bitch, but hadn’t gotten ready herself.
Aran sprayed oil into her long turquoise hair and laughed. “Sweetie, I came out of the womb getting ready for functions.”
In under one minute, Aran pulled on a stunning gossamer baby doll dress that floated around her upper thighs in a puff of tulle.
She slipped on black stilettos, wiped lipstick and mascara on her face, and rubbed sparkles on her décolletage.
“Done.” She beamed and blinked her stunning turquoise eyes up at me.
“Dude, you are so pretty. It’s wild.” I stared at her in awe.
The crystal collar around her neck, just like Cobra’s, looked like a gorgeous accessory, and not a symbol of her mother’s control.
I would rate myself a solid eight out of ten, all decked out in finery.
Aran, I would rate a freaking fifty out of ten.
She leaned forward and whispered like she was telling a grave secret, “Physically, I might be pretty, but mentally, I’m worse than Cobra.”
I rolled my eyes at her antics. “Oooh, someone is going through a damaged phase.”
She playfully slapped me on the arm.
My enchanted ring glowed on my pinky, and I grinned as I rubbed my hands over my smooth gold skin.
It still shocked me how silky it felt now that it was no longer covered in raised scars.
With a deep breath, we nodded at each other, and Aran unlocked the door to the bedroom.
Cobra’s gorgeous face and suit-clad body filled the doorway. “What took you so long?”
He’d clearly been standing there waiting for us the entire time.
Rationally, I knew he was acting like a stalker; irrationally, I liked that he was obsessed with me.
Just another thing to add to the long list of topics I needed to discuss with my future therapist.
Literally, I made a mental note to jot it down later.
Now that I wasn’t dirt poor, I was hiring a professional ASAP because we had a lot to talk about. I’d started making a list on paper so I wouldn’t forget anything during our first session. So far, the list said,
Therapy Topics
- running—Cruel and unusual punishment. Should it be classified as torture?
- Dick—No explanation needed.
- alpha men—No explanation needed.
- fae queen—No explanation needed.
- inability to dance—World turned upside down by the revelation that I have no rhythm. Feeling a lot of emotions about it.
I checked to make sure my list was still on the bedroom dresser and turned to find Cobra still standing in the doorway like a statue.
He gaped at me with an open mouth. Jewels glinted as his sinful lips opened and closed, his sharp cheekbones and jaw vibrating with shock, as he ran a hand roughly through his inky hair.
“You can’t wear that,” Cobra finally said after a long tense moment.
Jax walked up beside Cobra and shoved him to the side. “You look beautiful, little alpha.” He smiled down at me.
I grinned up at the big man. “Thanks, I’m entering a ho phase and wanted to get off on the right foot.”
Jax raised his eyebrows as he stared down at me. “As you should, little alpha.”
My heart burst into bubbles, and sparkles erupted in the air around Jax’s golden braids. Why was he literally the perfect male?
“What did you just say?” Cobra’s throat gave a rattling hiss.
He was not perfect.
Before Cobra could ruin my glow, Jax grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall.
“You look good.” Ascher sauntered forward, his gold hair slicked back and his tattoos mostly covered by a fitted black suit. Like the other alphas, he was so large and muscular that no one would ever mistake him for a simple businessman.
As if to punctuate my point, Jax and Cobra were decked in finery but wrestling like children.
“Thanks,” I said to Ascher as he stared at me intensely.
I picked at the edge of my dress. My emotions were all over the place when it came to Ascher, and I never knew how to act or feel.
“Whenever you want to be pampered, just let me know.” He leaned forward and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear with a tattooed finger.
Goose bumps erupted all over my body as I stumbled away from him.
Freakin’ Ascher and his freakin’ tattooed dick. He practically oozed sexuality and sin.
“What’s going on?” Xerxes asked as he walked out of the bedroom and fastened his wrist cuffs.
He tilted his head toward Jax, who had just slammed Cobra against the wall and was kissing him forcefully.
Xerxes’s luscious blond hair fell to his butt in a silky wave, and his purple eyes were shockingly bright against his olive-toned skin. His features were softer than all the alphas’, and he looked almost pretty in his fancy suit.
He radiated fairy-tale prince energy.
Xerxes turned toward me and did a double take. He clenched his jaw and said, “Wow.”
Suddenly, I was painfully aware that the room reeked of alpha and omega pheromones. I breathed in the mouthwatering scent.
Frost, chestnuts, conifer pine, and sweet cinnamon saturated the small space. It was intoxicating.
Aran marched out behind me in a huff and arched her perfect eyebrow. “Oh my sun god, do you all act like this all the time? How do you get anything done? It’s a miracle Sadie hasn’t cut her losses and found normal men to be around.”
At her words, four sets of male eyes began to glow, and low growls echoed through the small space.
“Literally my point.” Aran inspected her cuticles.
No one said anything, and she sighed like we were hopeless.
Aran fluffed her gorgeous blue hair, unbothered by their aggression. “You can at least say that I look nice. That is the normal gentleman’s response when you see a lady in a dress. Also, there is something you all have failed to say to Sadie.”
“You look like shit,” Cobra sneered at her.
I opened my mouth to yell at him, but Aran beat me to it.
Her turquoise eyes flashed, and she turned to Cobra with a smile. “I look better than your immature snake ass.”
“Fae whore.”
“Alpha skank.”
“Blue-haired freak.”
“Creepy rock-skin fucker.”
Cobra opened his mouth, and Jax slammed his palm across Cobra’s lips to muffle the sound.
I sighed heavily and, suddenly, understood why Jax was sighing all the time.
The good news was Cobra had talked to another woman.
The bad news was the interaction didn’t feel like a step in the right direction.
“Um, you look nice, Aran,” I said tentatively, unsure why my friend was fuming. She had been so happy and normal a few seconds ago.
“Sadie, that is not the point!” she snapped, and I narrowed my eyes.
I searched for the point but got nothing.
Fae women were crazy.
Aran fluffed her blue hair and rubbed at her temples, then she turned and yelled at everyone in the room, “You didn’t even notice Sadie’s scars were gone!”
Four heads swiveled toward me.
“How?” Jax asked with a scowl.
“An expensive fae enchantment. Don’t worry, it’s completely safe.” Aran motioned toward the ring on my pinky finger.
Jax’s scowl relaxed as he tilted his head at me. “Sorry, little alpha. I honestly have stopped noticing your scars. Either way, you look beautiful.”
Smiling up at him, I patted his massive bicep and pretended not to notice that his body heat was radiating through his clothes. My mouth watered as I remembered the taste of roasted chestnuts on my tongue.
The other men nodded in agreement, and for once, Cobra didn’t say anything.
Now we just needed Jax to speak more and Cobra to speak less. The group dynamic would be a lot more functional.
The tension in the room was slowly draining away, since both Aran and Cobra weren’t acting murderous.
I put my hands in the air and shimmied with excitement. “Let’s go party!”
All the men were staring at me with a creepy intensity, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Was that dancing or twitching?” Aran asked.
I glared at her, and finally, she nodded as she understood my unspoken communication.
Aran threw her hands in the air and bellowed, “Time to get drunk!”
We hooted and hollered and, before the men could say anything, danced our dress-clad asses out the door.
Stilettos clacking in unison, we clung onto each other’s arms and went to get our party on.
