Chapter 7- The need of touch

That night, leaving her cabin with the hellhound, Pearl went out. The eastern town's road was empty, and nighttime roads were freeing at first, but before long, the sense Pearl was the only person in the realm heightened the aching loneliness that was a persistent, choking weight.

Whether it was her latest stalker or the lack of social contact she'd had over the past month as she lost herself in her work, Pearl didn't know, but unexpectedly the quietness was suffocating.

Pearl lived as cut off as she could. Alone in the old cabin with only a hellhound for a companion. She tried so hard, so fucking hard, to fight when the need for a werewolf, fae, or a male alchemist's contact and intimacy arose, not wanting to put anyone in danger.

But, ultimately, she always broke.

When the need to be around other people grew to be too much, she authorized herself brief beats of normality: going to the cute downtown café for coffee, grocery shopping at the farmers' market instead of having her items delivered, bringing her packages to the Post Office instead of having them picked up. These excursions seemed miniature and unimportant to most, but to Pearl, they were everything.

Unfortunately, those excursions were far too brief, hardly fulfilled her need to be around others, and never relieved the one thing she found herself craving the most:male touch.

When it got to the point she could hardly breathe past the longing, she succumbed to the allure and sought out a one-night stand, but at best, those meetings only temporarily numbed the need.

Water, air, and food were essential for nurturing life, but no one ever mentioned touch was just as vital. Each night when she crawled into bed, she ached for companionship.

It had gotten so ominous in the last few months that most mornings she'd wake from dreams of being held in strong arms, of being nestled against a warm, hard chest, only to open her eyes and find herself horribly, achingly alone. Always alone. Memories of the Lycan's warmth from two years ago still haunted her.

Those dreams were so bitterly explicit, that she could swear she sensed him on her sheets: a heady combination of ocean, warm sandalwood, and dark earth.

Perhaps it was the phantom of her dream or the loneliness at fault, but unexpectedly, she felt a pulling sensation in her chest, like something was pulling her.

Wondering if her power was acting up again, she searched inside herself. Blowing out a breath when she found it calm and contained, she turned her focus back to that strange pull.

It felt different, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It felt… good. Warm, comforting, exciting.

It felt like… home.

The compulsion to let it steer her, to see where it took her was powerful, so intense she had to purposely stop her hand from torquing the throttle. A feeling of closeness, and a puzzling knowing she would find someone on the other end of the haul soaked over her, bringing with it a keen longing.

A softly whispered thought hit her, a hidden longing that had lived inside her from the moment she realized she was different…a lone alchemist that could take someone else's power, and now she had the four elements. But did it make her better? Yes and no. She was still alone, wanted and hiding, still cloaking her real visage. Hiding her real scent and magic so that the king's men couldn't find her.

What if it was someone like her? Someone who could wield four elemental magic at the same time?

It didn't matter that it was a remote possibility. It didn't matter that she thought she'd finally managed to accept she was alone. The chance, no matter how minute, there might be someone like her out there was enough to convince herself.

Wary, but unbearably curious, Pearl resolutely followed the pull and let it guide her.

Over an hour later, Pearl found herself passing into town's limits. With the realization there was a good chance she was being led somewhere with people, she tested the neverending well of power in her chest, making sure it was fisted tightly, while she weaved in and out of traffic between the tall buildings.

Jutting towers of glass and steel, along with the bright lights of the city, drowned out any view of the moon and stars above. It was one of the things she loved about living on the outskirts of the sprawling metropolis. For some reason, the view of the night sky had always soothed her.

Focusing on the pull as it grew stronger with every mile she drove, she let it guide her.

Even though driving into the city had guaranteed she'd be around others, nervousness still slid through her when she pulled into the crowded parking lot of a nightclub. Eyeing the long line of people waiting to get into the building, she hesitated.

Being around so many people was never easy. It didn't matter how tightly she contained her power, there was something about her men and women alike found compelling. In a crowd this large, with inhibitions already lowered by alcohol, Pearl knew she'd have to fend off far more than her fair share of attention.

She focused on the draw, hoping she was wrong and it was leading her somewhere less populated, but no, it was definitely pulling her in there.

Fuck it. I've come this far.

Pearl paused once inside the club to scan the mass of writhing bodies on the immense, recessed dance floor—hypnotic strobes of light painting them in flashes of purple, pink, and blue.

The music was so loud it felt tangible, the bass pounding in her chest like a second heartbeat.

The darkened club offered her its own brand of freedom. In the shifting shadows, Pearl could pretend to be just another face in the crowd. Below the colored lights and deafening music, there would be no questions to avoid, no small talk to tiptoe around. There was only dancing, drinking, and feeling.

The sense of facelessness that provided settled over her like a comforting blanket. It wouldn't last, but for just an instant, the sense of being invisible was intoxicating.

As she watched from the sidelines, the craving to join that squirming multitude, to touch and be touched, had both longing and apprehension coiling inside her.

Looking away from the dance floor, she secretly surveyed the dark, large interior of the club as she made her way through the tightly packed throng of people. A tiny delight filled her with every unexpected brush, every contact with another person, as she aimed for the long bar taking up the whole left wall.

Just how touch-starved have I let myself get?

Reaching for the well of power, she tightened her grip on it as firmly as she could to make sure nothing was leaking out, just in case the person on the other end of the pull didn't have the best intentions in mind. She didn't want to give herself away.

Of course, that would only work if they couldn't feel the same pull toward her, but better to err on the side of not getting kidnapped. Again.

The moment she reached the over-populated bar, the closest bartender turned to her like a flower turning its face to the sun, her expression brightening as if Pearl was a best friend or lover instead of a stranger.

"What can I get you, beautiful?" the red-headed woman grimaced, not even endeavoring to shout over the rhythmic beat of the music.

The people on either side of her, who'd been waiting a while to place their orders, turned to her, but the bitterness on their faces lasted only a second. Even knowing they no longer cared she'd unintentionally cut the line, Pearl still smiled apologetically in their directions before focusing her gaze on the bartender's upper cheek.

She didn't know if making direct eye contact made her influence worse, so she seldom did so, unwilling to risk it.

"Three shots, please," she mouthed back, holding up three fingers then making a sharp motion of her hand to signal what she wanted, laying a bill on the counter with the other hand before one of the people bracketing her could.

"You got it, honey." She shoved the bill back at Pearl with a wink. "It's on the house."

She knew better than to press, so she just stuffed the money back into her pocket with a tight smile.