008

Dove pov

With damp palms, I risk a glance inward.

A long corridor sweeps into the residence, dampened by dim shadows. Claude has seemingly vanished, while I stand dumbly at the entrance.

This is what I came for.

The door clicks closed behind me once I step inside. This is clearly a servants access way, which eases my nerves a touch. I stride downward, following the music and voices.

The music practically melts in my ears, a rich and sultry melody unlike anything I've heard before.There is music back home, of course, but it's restrained to a conservative few genres and does little to inspire exploration of the mind or body.

It floods out to meet me, along with the scent of cloying perfume, sweat and decadent food as I venture deeper, looking for a way into the main hall.

My shoes squeak against the black and white checkered linoleum as I watch people pass me by, paying me no mind.

Some are extravagantly dressed, with feathers sprouting from sparkling clothing, wobbling perilously on frightfully tall heels. Others wear modest black uniforms, their heads bowed, carrying trays of empty glasses and used napkins.

I weave around them until a tall crimson curtain comes into view. I press through it, entering into an entirely different dimension.

Throngs of people mull about. Some dance, some stand and speak near corners I stand numbly, taking it all in. The floor is pure white marble, glittering shoes tapping against it as people dance animatedly. A stage of sorts winds along the wall, giving enough space for people playing instruments and performers dressed magnificently.

Above me is a vaulted ceiling painted with bright, vivid colours depicting naked forms, flowers and god-like entities. A massive chandelier drapes down, glistening with a mesmerising cluster of expensive jewels.

I thought I knew wealth and opulence working in Matthias' manor, but this makes his home seem humble.

This is a palace in every sense of the word.

The vivid shades of red and splotches of black are enough to have me reeling. It's everywhere — on the wall decorations, on the guests clothing, the tablecloths, the colour of the wine...everything my eyes touch seems to incorporate the colours somehow.I feel faint, like my consciousness threatening to slip away.

What has my sensibilities stirred the most is the way the people act. They dance upon each other like the style is to ensure there is no space between them. Their almost naked forms drift against one another in time to the swell of the music.

Near the edge of the room some people are pressed against the wall, making out with another. Although I can't quite see, I could swear by the way some throw their heads back with pleasure, they are being fucked right here, in front of everyone.

Yet, no one looks on with judgmental sneers. Everyone is too enraptured by their own movement.

"You look so alive. I love it."

I startle, glancing over to see a wondrously tall woman standing a few feet away, watching me. Her dress is magnificent, shifting and rippling around her hips, the incandescent red suiting her immaculately.She lets me gape at her for a few moments of silence, clearly used to such appraisal.

"I think it's because I'm the only sober person in here," I say breathily, trying not to stumble as people brush past me, surging on to dance.

Her arms are folded, long, pointed black nails tapping against her biceps as she considers me.

"Come home with me tonight," she offers smoothly, as if such proposal carries no meaning at all. She's only regarded me for a minute, maybe two, and yet she's ready to offer such a thing.

"I can't," I stutter, turning only to be engulfed by the crowd.

For a while I just move with the crowd, feeling as though it would be counterintuitive to fight against it. Blood pulses in my ears, numbing the sound of the music, of the sharp laughs and lively voices.

Eventually I emerge from the crowd, dazed and still shockingly sober. My handbraces against the nearest wall as I travel along it, seeking a momentary reprieve in hopes my senses will become accustomed to the assault on them.

I manage to find the bathroom down a narrow corridor. I burst in, only to find two girls lounging in the empty bath.

"Oh-"

"It's fine. If you need to freshen up go ahead."

I let out a breath, turning to the sink. The girls are smoking something sweet in scent, their legs tangled together.

I brace my hands against the counter, staring at myself in the mirror. This all suddenly seems so very silly.

Here I am, attending the most extravagant party of all time wearing a dusty pink dress with sweet little flowers sewn into the fabric. My face is bare of makeup and I could do with some very thin, higher heels right now.

I need something to blend in. Eyes drawto me, and not in a positive manner.

I lean down, splashing my face with cool water. It's stinging bite reminds me I'm present, that the dull music thumping against the wall isn't reality breaking into my dreamscape. I'm really here.

Tugging the black slip from my pocket I place it on the counter next to me, staring at it.

What in the world am I going to do with you?

"I'll get one, don't worry," one of the girls murmurs from the tub.

Neither of them pay me any mind. They have their heads bent close, their hair weaved into intricate styles laced with beads and dusted with glitter.

"What about me?" One pouts, her glossy pink lips turning. "I'm not missing out this year again."

I look back at the mirror, wondering what I would look like had I half their adornments. My attention, however,strays back to them as I realise they are staring me down.

"Holy shit." The girl with red gemstones placed carefully near her eyes sits up. "Where did you get that?"

I follow their hungry stares to the black slip.

"Some man gave it to me just now," I admit, gazing at its glossy black surface. It's sleek elegance represents so much, holds more power than I've ever had the privilege of experiencing.

"Who was he?" The girl with glossy pink lips asks.

Gemstones lips widen into a curious smile. "What did he look like?"

"Silver hair and—"

"Claude." Glossy lips nods at her friend knowingly. "I guess he's chosen his muse for the evening."

I look between them, bewildered. I'm not surprised Claude has garnered a reputation around here; he didn't exactly look unfamiliar with this environment.

Gemstones pins me with an amused look. "Good luck. He's an interesting fuck."

"I'm not going to have sex with him," I tell them.

At least I don't think I am. That wasn't my intention of coming here tonight, and as handsome as he is, he seems equally as dangerous.

"Then I suppose you don't need the slip then." Their eyes hungrily devour it, even as I slide a proprietary hand over it. "Almost everyone who gets one ends up having sex with the Alpha or one of this friends."

"Have you met Alpha Varian?" I ask tentatively.

They look at each other, waiting for the other to answer before glossy lips nods.

"We both have," she says, nudging her friend. "And we've both had sex with him.""Yeah definitely," Gemstones adds.

My brows raise. These girls are beautiful and I'm not unfamiliar with the Alpha's reputation. Matthias himself said Varian isn't picky with who he takes to bed, and Eden had similar opinions...

Not that Eden truly knows anything. And Matthias has every reason to exaggerate.

"His favourite position is fucking you from behind," glossy lips states proudly, flicking her hair back over her shoulder.

"For you maybe," Gemstones laughs. "He liked looking at my face."

Glossy lips frowns, readjusting as she glares at the side of her friends face. I resist the urge to giggle at their desire to outdo each other.

"And he has a tattoo above his cock," she adds.

"Yeah it looks like a..."

The two exchange wary glances."Heart—"

"...Bird."

"Uh, yeah, a bird." Gemstones clears her throat, picking at her perfectly shaped nails. "That's what I meant."

I watch them suspiciously. I'm starting to get the feeling neither have even met him let alone slept with him.

"A bird?" I question. "You're sure you've seen him naked?"

"Of course," glossy lips scowls. "We both have. Anyone who is anyone has."

"Right, well I'm going to go now."

Sliding the black slip into the pocket of my dress, I leave the room and the pair bickering behind. Apparently me doubting their stories is the other ones fault and rumour is going to spread.

I have no interest in discrediting either of them. I'm not even slightly surprised being associated at all with the Alpha is a status symbol to people here.I emerge back into party, allowing myself to drift toward a table of water in sealed glass bottles. Settling next to it, I drink leisurely while I watch people dance.

I need to get in there to dance. More importantly, I need to find a willing partner who doesn't want to take me home for the night.

Another pair of people appear at the table, taking bottles of their own. I tune into their conversation.

"Obviously I have," the girls mutters as if she's been offended by the man's questioning. "His favourite position is from the side."

The lip of the bottle pauses before it reaches my lips. They are talking about Alpha Varian, I can tell.

"And he has a scar right here, above his dick," she adds, motioning at the spot below her stomach.

"And a tattoo of a wolf on his thigh, I heard," the man adds with a laugh.The two vanish back into the crowd as quickly as they appeared. It seems the host of this party is on everyone's name tonight.

However, I know he won't be gracing this level of the palace tonight. Instead, he dwells beyond the heavily guarded stairs that I now approach.

Against my better judgement, I'm going to find this man for myself.