Bathroom Sinks And Magical Things

The smell of the dormitory was usually a mix of cheap coffee and Sophie’s excessive hairspray, but tonight, it was being overtaken by the acrid, metallic tang of Anna’s concoction.

"Anna! Seriously, come out! You’ve been 'exfoliating' for an hour and I need you to see the shoes!" Sophie’s voice was a high-pitched vibrato of pure joy. She was practically vibrating on the other side of the bathroom door.

Inside, Anna was hunched over the sink. The porcelain was stained with a dark, oily residue as she ground the silver-pressed salt into the wolfsbane distillate. Every time her skin touched the mixture, it hissed, a stinging reminder of the "abomination" she was. To a human, this would just be a pungent, herbal perfume. To a wolf, it was a biological blackout.

"One minute, Soph!" Anna called back, her voice tight.

She reached for the final ingredient—a drop of her own blood to bind the scent-mask to her specific DNA. As she pricked her finger and let the ruby drop fall into the vial, the air in the small bathroom began to hum. The glass of the vanity mirror started to vibrate, a low-frequency growl that matched the rising tension in Anna’s chest. The magic was resisting the suppression. It didn't want to be hidden; it wanted to scream.

The vibration reached a crescendo, a hairline crack spidering across the corner of the mirror with a sharp snap.

The oil turned clear. It was done.

Anna let out a breath she’d been holding since Asheville. She bottled the liquid and opened the door to find Sophie standing there, looking like a sunlight-drenched dream.

"Finally!" Sophie squealed. She was already wearing her dress—a shimmering, ice-blue silk that turned her green eyes into emeralds. "Look! It’s the color of a winter sky. And look at yours!"

Sophie draped a garment bag over the chair. Inside was the dress from the website: The Shadow’s Grace. In person, the midnight emerald fabric looked like liquid forest floor, dark and deep and dangerous.

"I got it as a gift. For everything," Sophie said, her voice softening for a second. "For being the only person who stayed when everyone else left. You're going to be the most beautiful girl there, Anna. Killian won't know what hit him."

"He's not going to 'hit' anything," Anna muttered, but she took the vial and rubbed a drop behind Sophie’s ears. "Here. Wear this. It’s a... custom scent I made. It’ll keep the 'creep factor' down at the party. Don't wash it off."

"Ooh, smells like rain and expensive secrets," Sophie giggled, dabbing more on her wrists. "I love it."

Twelve miles away, in the obsidian-tiled gym of Blackwood Manor.

Killian Blackwood sent a heavy punching bag flying with a blow that would have shattered a human’s ribs. He was drenched in sweat, his skin steaming in the cold air of the training room.

He was irritable. No, he was feral.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that flash of blue. Every time he breathed, he searched for the scent of thunderstorm and graveyard, but the memory was fading, tantalizingly out of reach. He had spent the last forty-eight hours obsessing over the girl from the frat house.

He didn't just want to dance with her. He wanted to pin her against a wall and tear the secrets out of her throat. He wanted to claim whatever power was humming inside her and lock it in a cage where only he had the key.

"Sir?" a young Beta whispered from the doorway, sensing the Alpha's volatile mood. "The guest list for the 21st is finalized. The human 'guests' have been vetted."

Killian stopped, his chest heaving, his claws slowly retracting into his knuckles. He thought of Anna Jameson. He thought of the way she had looked at him,with a fear that was wrapped in a challenge.

"Ensure the Jameson girl is prioritized," Killian said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I want her in the North Wing. Away from the noise."

He wanted to taste her. He wanted to keep her. And God help anyone;man, wolf, or witch,who tried to get in his way.