The Woman From That Night Novels & Stories

Thursday night was the night I spent with that mysterious woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. My hand curled around the phone, squeezing it so hard, I was surprised it didn’t break. I knew there was something off about that night. It had all been too…easy. Simple. Coincidental. Now that I knew Rowena was involved… She had something to do with all of this, I could feel it. My desire to find the woman from that night grew even larger. She was the one person who could unravel all of this and lead me back to that blasted witch — and finally break my curse.

“You better tell me everything by tomorrow morning, or I would be the one to rip your head off” “You don’t have to worry about that” She responds. “What time is the gala?” I ask. “It starts at 10pm but we have to be there by 8:30pm, Madam Stephanie wants perfection” She explains “Okay…. And the dress code?” “I got that covered, the dress is in my wardrobe on the left. It’s a black leather dress and the shoes are on the rack. Oh and don’t worry about your night shift, I already convinced Natalie” She states.

CALEB I sat in silence, my fingers pressing into my temples as my assistant paced the room. He had no answers. I had no answers. The woman from last night—whoever she was—was a complete mystery. I hadn’t even looked at her face. I couldn’t remember what she looked like. I clenched my jaw. How could I have been so careless? The only clue we had was the hotel’s security footage, so we went straight to the manager and demanded to see it.

I ran until I couldn't run anymore, until I found myself standing in front of The Riverside Hotel three blocks away. The kind of place Damien and I couldn't afford but that businesspeople expensed without thinking about it. The lobby was all marble and gold accents. At the front desk, a young woman with perfect makeup smiled at me. "Can I help you?" "I need a room." My voice sounded distant. "Just for tonight." She didn't ask about luggage or why I looked like death. She just processed my credit card and handed me a key leading to Room 412. I made it inside, locked the door, and collapsed against it.

the woman said getting the money, "I don't see anyone by that name Sir" perhaps She had used a different name, "Okay, do you perhaps know a woman, she has a black SUV, and short Blonde hair?" I asked "Yes, I know that woman" she then looked through her computer "The name she booked under is Selena Mathews, she is in room number 12, however, she isn't in right now" I brought out my check book and wrote her a $2000 check, "Can you give me the key to her room, she is an old friend and I want to surprise her with my presence", the receptionist was a bit hesitant

Step one was dealing with the bracelet. I was thinking about how to get my bracelet to David because that was important to me, but I didn’t know how to react or even function if I saw him again, knowing what happened last night. What if I asked him if there were any specific bracelets in his room when he forgot who the girl he slept with was, then I am going to be doomed. It feels like I made him remember that I am the woman he spent the night with. Thinking about this infuriated me until my phone rang. It was River.

She had politely declined when the women suggested that they danced. Since she was the only person left, she poured herself a red wine and sipped quietly. It was 10:30 pm now. She couldn't wait to go home. She really wanted to leave this place as soon as she could. But it was late already and it would be too difficult to get a cab by this time. Sarah felt lonely and sad all of a sudden. She looked at the stage again. Kimara was still sitting beside Richard. This time, it looked like she was telling him something.

After blinking the sleep from my eyes, I start to recognize this woman. Not as someone I know from here, but… from before. From my pack lands. Wait. That’s it. This is the woman who was offered to Caleb by my pack at the last devotion. Nina.

In the center was a woman lying on her side, her back to Zephyra. She looked like she was wearing a nightgown, but it was hard to tell. The woman was covered in what Zephyra was afraid was blood. Her throat tightened, and she tried to swallow the lump there “Hey, you. Are you alright?” Zephyra called to her, suddenly hesitant to move forward. Her eyes darted around the pool of light and into the darkness, looking for anything that might be out there. The woman didn’t reply or move. It unnerved Zephyra and she swallowed.

Flashes came back in fragments: soft gasps, nails raking down my back, a woman’s legs wrapped around me in the dark. I remembered thrusting, groaning a name—“Andrea”—and the way her body had answered, arching, clenching, pulling me deeper until we both shattered. But when the fog cleared, doubt crept in. Had it been Andrea? The timeline fits. She’d been at the rehearsal dinner, radiant in that silver dress. We’d stolen kisses behind the rose trellis. But she’d left early with her bridesmaids for the final bridal party toast. I’d stayed behind, nursing one last drink in the garden, trying to quiet the pre-wedding nerves that kept whispering: “Are you sure? Is this the right choice?”