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Skylar

It was a quarter past eight, and I was making my way through the enormous castle, arm hooked through Dmitri's. We are exiting a large archway, with butlers stationed on either side holding trays of champagne. We pause as Dmitri takes a glass and hands it to me before taking one for himself. I may need this, I think to myself, squaring my shoulders and holding my head high, as if going into battle. I can do this.

I can see groups of people standing around tables that are scattered across the beautifully manicured lawn. A band is playing classical music on a small stage off to the side. Butlers are walking around serving entrees, and a huge table to the side is filled with a variety of snacks. Some of it I don't even recognize, posh shit that posh people eat. My stomach grumbles, and I look up at Dmitri, hoping his super hearing is tuned into something other than my body's noises. No such luck.

"Let's get you something to eat," he says without looking at me, a small smirk on his face. I look away, smiling.

We weave past people. Well, not people, but beings. It seems like the different beings or races don't really mix. There is a group on one side made up of really bulky men and muscular women. All gorgeous. I mean, not one of them has even a pimple. It's bizarre. That must be the werewolf and Lycan group. The very pasty people slightly off to the side must be the vampires. Not as big as the werewolves and Lycans, muscular but leaner. They fit the fiction books I've read to a T, except for the eyes, which are black and not red as in some novels.

There are then various smaller groups, whom I assume are the witches, warlocks, and fairies, gathering around the tables on the edge. They would be the hardest to recognize if you were out and about in the world. They are dressed and look like normal people. Maybe more artsy or eccentric, but in today's day and age, when people can get away with wearing just about anything, they would be hard to spot.

I can feel many eyes on me as Dmitri and I make our way over to the snack table. He nods his head in acknowledgement to some people as we pass by. I use the term people loosely, as I have no idea what to call this collective.

"Stiff crowd," I whisper to him as we get to the table. He chuckles next to me before moving his hand to the small of my lower back. He leans down and whispers, "Must be because of you," before winking. It takes me a minute to register what he is saying before I blush. He actually cracked a joke. I smile to myself as my stomach makes itself known again. I hear someone at one of the tables chuckling, and I hope to all that is holy it's someone with super hearing laughing at something that isn't my stomach's symphony.

I grab a celery stick and start munching on that. It's the only thing that doesn't look like meat. This spread is clearly catering to a different palate.

"That," Dmitri says, pointing to some dainty squares on one of the shiny silver platters, "vegetable quiche."

I take one, and the most amazing taste explodes on my tongue. I actually moan outright.

"Oh my god, this is so good," I whisper to him, taking another one and popping it into my mouth.

Dmitri looks down at me, his expression darkening as a "mmmm" follows from the back of my throat. I lick the remnants off my thumb. I hear someone at a table close by chuckling again and turn to see if I am the source of someone's amusement.

As I turn, a tall, pale man approaches us, bemusement written all over his face.

"Dmitri, you must introduce me to your companion," he says, briefly looking at Dmitri before his gaze returns to me.

He has a heavy Italian accent and looks to be about 6'1", lean but very muscular, with long, slender fingers. His hair is brown, his eyes are black, and his face has sharp features, not unpleasant. Just not Dmitri, I think, quickly looking at Dmitri to ascertain if this is friend or foe. His face remains expressionless. Not much help, thanks buddy, I think, before looking back at the man in front of us.

"Andrea, nice to see you again," Dmitri says, holding his hand out to shake Andrea's.

Andrea's hand shoots out to shake Dmitri's, so quickly I almost miss it. I blink, looking from the hands that are busy parting to Andrea.

"This is Skylar Morgan," Dmitri introduces, inclining his head in my direction.

I notice everyone has stopped doing what they are doing. All eyes are on us. You can hear a pin drop. I look around, catching the eyes of people as I scan the surrounding tables before looking back at Andrea, who has extended his hand to me. Slower this time. I hold my hand out, and as he grabs it, his eyes go wide. He looks quickly back up at Dmitri, his expression hard to decipher. I see his eyes scan my neck. Oddball.

"Belle vierge," he breathes out as his lips meet the top of my hand. His lips are cold, as is the hand currently holding mine.

"Enough, Andrea." Dmitri's firm voice cuts through the silence. "She is with me and under my protection." His voice is slightly raised so that everyone can hear what he is saying. He seems angry.

I have no idea what is going on. I withdraw my hand from Andrea as Dmitri puts a hand on the small of my back and leads me back the way we came.

Not even ten minutes in, and it looks like we're already leaving as Dmitri guides me back the way we came. As we are about to enter the archway, I hear my name being called by a voice I would know anywhere.

"Ben," I spin around, locking eyes with a much bigger Ben than I remember, before running towards him and wrapping my arms around him. He gives me a bear hug, lifting me off the floor. He is Andrea's height, a little less muscular than Dmitri, with blond surfer boy hair and blue eyes.

"Geez, Ben, that military school has done a number on you," I say, smiling. The smile fades from my face as I realize where we are. If Ben is here, what does that mean?

"Wait, what are you doing here, Ben?" I take a step back from him as I feel Dmitri moving closer behind me.

"Look, Sky, I meant to tell you, I just didn't know how..." Ben trails off, looking at me pleadingly.

"You're one of them." My mind is reeling. I really don't know how many more surprises I can take. Looking at him now, it seems so obvious. He is a werewolf. My heart beats faster, and my hands become clammy. Too much. It is all too much.

"Benjamin," Dmitri says from behind me, "go back to the party." His voice brooks no argument, and Ben retreats, a pained expression on his face.

"Breathe, Skylar," Dmitri says, as his hand strokes my back. A calming gesture that's doing nothing to calm me, unfortunately.

"I want to go upstairs, right now." It's barely a whisper, but Dmitri hears me. We turn around, his hand still on my back, guiding me through the corridors and stairs. My eyes are down, frustration pooling in the pit of my stomach. How am I so fucking oblivious? Am I that naïve and innocent that I don't know what the fuck is going on around me? I feel like screaming or punching something.

Dmitri opens the door to our room, and I stomp in.

He is standing on the side, watching me with a strange expression on his face, as I pace back and forth from the dining table to the bathroom door.

"Have I been living under a rock?" I vent, more to myself than to him.

"Everything I know is wrong. Everything is different. I must be naïve to have not realized this before. I mean, look at him. Look at you," I gesture to him as I continue to pace. "I must be the stupidest woman on earth, walking around oblivious, naïve." I pull on my hair, frustration pouring out of me. "I'm a fucking idiot, with blinkers on my eyes," I continue my tirade, moving my hands rapidly open and closed over my eyes. I can feel my heart racing. I think I'm having a panic attack.

"Skylar, calm down," Dmitri's authoritative voice slices through the room.

I can't seem to get enough air. I crouch down on the ground, gripping my chest. I'm hyperventilating. I think I'm going to pass out. And that's exactly what I do.

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