Chapter Nine
Elle's POV

I tilted my face towards the fire, my eyes drooping, a kaleidoscope of yellow and orange dancing behind my eyelids. An REO Speedwagon song warmed the glade, the notes rising from the speakers in a slow crescendo. Warbled voices climbed with the music as drunkards danced off-beat, dipping and swaying with no inhibition.

The sting of glass shattering into a thousand pieces broke through me like a sudden chill, and I glanced over my shoulder. Most of the party-goers were crushed together, shoulder to shoulder, as they swayed, as though they were one entity at the unmerciful whims of the music.

Embers of the fire winked in and out of existence like fireflies. They were like whispers, spreading through the air, the embers curled, swirling above the party, until each speck darkened into ash and rained upon our hair. Smoke hung thick in the air, clinging to our clothes, the fire feeding greedily on broken branches.

I was the only sober one left at the party, or so it felt. Bodies of partiers swelled as people joined the crush of dancers. The body rippled out, inching to where I watched them, beckoning with laughter and drunken cries of joy.

The alcohol licked their bodies with sweat, as one or two wasted souls stuck out like ghosts in the night. Their pale faces glistened like the watery moon on the lake, their eyes glazed over, zombies walking through the night.

Ulyana and Fallyn caught me by the wrists as a new song swept even more of the crowd into the thrum of the party. The bass leached into the soil, shaking my bones as I threw my head back with a laugh. They wouldn't take no for an answer, not that I fought much, allowing them to pull me into the thick swell of bodies.

We belted an Ed Sheeran song into the night sky, throwing our hands into the air as we twirled with the music.

After a few songs, the crowd pressed against me until I burst out on the other side, an unwanted seed spat out from the mouth of the party. My body was kissed with fresh sweat, and it felt like I'd been doused with hair spray, a tackiness to my skin. I could taste the smoke in the air, the inside of my mouth gritty, like I'd swished a mouthful of sand, thirst scratching at my throat.

It was well after midnight now, and the party was just catching its swing. I'd lost count of how much beer Jacobi had downed, rounding up ten cans before stopping my count. Once the beer was gone, he wandered off, running down partiers to pursue more alcohol.

He was drunk, which was strange to me because I'd never seen him drunk outside of the safety of our own houses. Usually, he stayed sober at parties, clucking around Kendra and me like a mother hen, but now, utterly intoxicated, he didn't mind that I wasn't by his side. He deserved the celebration, and I wasn't about to ruin his night by reminding him of this.

Finding him in the thrum of bodies was almost impossible, but then a cluster shifted, and I spied him by the curve of his smile. It was only for a second, as the bodies crushed back together, but it was enough to attract my feet in his direction.

Slipping between bodies of blissfully unaware werewolves, I kept my eyes on him.

He had a bottle of amber liquid grasped between his hands and brought it to his lips, swigging the alcohol. He staggered, looking like a toddler sucking at the teat of his milk bottle. He'd probably found the bottle in one of the coolers by his feet or in the hands of his friends. It didn't matter how he'd got it, but rather that he had, and now only a quarter of whiskey sloshed at the bottom of the bottle.

I smiled, saying hello to people as I passed, ensuring Jacobi never left my sight. His hair fell into his eyes, the sticky raggedy ends like the head of a mop, and his eyes lit up as he found me in the crowd. I grinned back.

Offering no resistance, he relinquished the bottle of Jack as soon as I grasped the smooth neck between my fingers. Pouting a little, he watched me lift the bottle to my nose, sniffing the dark liquid. Bile bubbled in my throat as the cloying dry haze burned the back of my throat. It reminded me of death.

'I can't believe you're drinking this.'

'Have some?'

I shook my head, holding the bottle away like a toxin. I wrinkled my nose involuntarily, disgust flooring me. 'I can think of nothing worse. Just smelling it makes me want to vomit.'

'It's not my fault that you and Kendra thought you could handle a bottle to yourselves.'

My mouth fell open, and I laughed, shoving my hands against his chest. 'It was too! You totally encouraged us.'

He gave me a flat look, his eyes seeming to wilt before me as they dropped, 'No one can encourage you to do anything. You're entirely your own person.'

I smirked, eyeing him carefully. 'How are you doing?'

His eyes snapped open, crystal clear. 'I'm fine.'

The words rolled off his tongue without hindrance, but I knew him better than that. All those nights spent drinking in Kendra's basement were enough to tell me that Jacobi's weakness wasn't his focus or speech but his walk.

'Prove it.'

With the bottle dangling between my fingers, I pointed to a spot a few feet away. He wobbled towards it, his face set with grim determination as he marched along an imaginary line. He turned, snapping his feet together and throwing his hands into the air as if to say tada.

'Now strike a pose.'

Jacobi, sober, never, in a million years, would have thrust his hip to the side, placing one hand on his waist, lacing the fingers of his other hand through his hair, a smouldering pout on his lips.

Laughter bubbled out of me, like a fizzy drink shaken before being opened, uncontrollable and unstoppable. I couldn't catch my breath, wheezing through tears as I doubled over, grasping Jacobi's shoulder.

'Elle?' Jacobi's voice was probing, concerned as he dug his fingers into my arm. He wasn't so worried the next time he snapped my name, huffing with annoyance as I bubbled away. 'Can I have my drink back, please?'

'Well, since you said please.' I bit sarcastically, breathing heavily. He either didn't catch the sarcasm or didn't care to because he snatched the bottle back, swaddling it within his hands as though it was his lifeline. 'Ugh. Jacobi.' He turned his cheek to me, snubbing me arrogantly. 'I need you to slow down, at least. I'm going to head home, okay? I can't be here to drunk test you in another half-hour.'

'Okay.' I sensed he wouldn't listen to me when he lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted back. His eyes widened, and he lowered the bottle, spluttering. 'Wait. How are you getting home?'

I knew him, and his tone only meant one thing. Laughing, I reached out to steady him. 'Not with your help. I'll probably walk.'

'But,' he tried to place a hand on my shoulder, missing, his whole body swinging forward. He pulled back at the last minute like the drinking bird toy that tipped back and forth on my Pop's desk. His gaze turned glassy momentarily, the words dying on his lips. 'That's like three,' he swallowed a hiccup, and I turned my eyes to the bottle, 'three hours!'

'Yeah, but I'll be okay.'

'You need someone to walk you home.' He jabbed a finger into my chest, crashing into me as he stumbled forward. 'For safety.

'Jacobi,' I returned his flat look from earlier, squaring my shoulders, my hands pushing into my hips. 'The forest is safe, always has been, and always will be. I don't think having you lumbering around in the trees for hours by yourself will be the best course of action.'

'I won't be alone. I'll have you.'

'You are not staying at my house!' I cried, waving a hand suggestively towards him. 'Nanna would skin me alive if I brought you home in your condition. Plus, you have the Pansélinos tomorrow.

'You should drive home. You won't get ho-'

He hiccuped, whiskey sloshing over my shoes, sticking to my tights.

'Jacobi!'

'-me until four.'

'I know! And now I have to walk home with sticky shoes! Thank you; so much.' I snapped, groaning as I shook droplets of whiskey from my flats.

I flagged down a girl who went to school with us, grimacing as she strolled over, her hands tucked casually into her jacket pockets. She didn't look nearly half as drunk as the gaggle of girls who followed after her like little ducklings.

'Hey, Elle.'

'Hi, Laura.' I stepped into her arms, returning her hug half-heartedly. 'Can you do me a favour?'

'You want me to keep an eye on this idiot?'

I winced sheepishly. 'Yeah.'

'That's fine. He'll get along just great with the others. Come on, big fella.'

She tugged him into the group, her friends cooing over him, congratulating him on his initiation. I followed him, gripping him by the shoulders so he had nowhere else to go. He stilled, eyes wide as I brought his face down to mine. 'You are going to hate yourself in the morning.' I warned, knowing I'd never be able to take the alcohol now. He was expecting it. 'Behave. Don't do anything stupid. And, Jacobi,' he was so close I could smell the Jack Daniels on his tongue. 'I'm proud of you. Congratulations.'

'What for? I only turned eighteen.'

I chuckled, patting his cheek. 'Well, then, congratulations on surviving so long.'

A grin split across his face, and the pungent odour of whiskey got stronger. 'Congratulations to you as well...' He paused, squinting into the forest as his face scrunched up in thought, '...on surviving seventeen years and nine months.'

I shrugged my nose, not bothering to correct him. I latched into the back of his neck, using him to leverage myself up to place a chaste kiss on the curve of his cheekbone.

'Have fun tomorrow.'

I was already diving into the crowd as Laura pointed me in the right direction. I shouted my thanks over my shoulder, but the party swallowed it.

I reached the other side, my skin prickling, goosebumps bubbling over my skin, and a shiver tickling my spine. I glanced back over the party, searching the crowded glade for someone watching me. I didn't get far, my eyes landing on Kaden as he stood by the dying embers of a fire.

He wasn't looking at me, but thoughts of someone watching me flittered away at the sight of him.

He was dressed more casually than I was used to. His suit and tie traded in for dark jeans, a light grey sweater and a beer swinging loosely between his fingers. It was the first time since school I'd ever seen him relax. And he looked beautifully sinful.

He still managed to make the air catch in my throat, and I wasn't the only one who noticed the way the loose-fit sweater did nothing to hide his physique.

I was still watching when a girl threaded through the bodies around him, touching his arm as she smiled sweetly. Bitter jealousy twisted in my chest, and I wondered if I would ever be as brave as her. He shrugged her off, but she just laughed it off with her friend, and they continued prowling around the party's edge.

I would never be like her.

I had spent years fawning over Kadan, wondering every week if it would be the Monday he finally noticed me. I would only ever do just that, living each week for relief from my servitude, my twenty seconds each week where I could stare at him unabashedly as he stalked across the lobby of the Moritz, too consumed by work to notice me.

I looked him over again, engraining the image into my memory, and turned away, drifting off into the trees. I left the thudding bass of the glade behind, missing the pulsing vibrations that had shaken through me for hours.

My whiskey-soaked stockings seemed to attract the cold, and I shrugged into my coat, shivering against the frosted stinging chill. The chill seeped into my bones, stiffening my body as I was overcome with tremors; away from the crushing thrum of bodies and fires, I was no longer protected against the cold.

Sighing, a plume of fog rose on my lips, and I tucked frostbitten hands into my pockets. I almost didn't want to button my jacket up, but I fumbled with stiff fingers to get them all done up before burying my hands back into my pockets.

I almost didn't notice when the music faded away, falling into the recesses of my brain, but a Taylor Swift song played on repeat, slowly tangling my mind into a field of insanity.

The forest was bathed in a green fog, hiding the knotted roots that twisted along the ground. Thin trees were packed densely, like bristles of a hairbrush, the branches reaching out like gnarly hands. I could hardly see, but every noise surrounded me with sharp clarity. The call of a tawny owl howled through the trees. A small creature scurried away at the sound of my steps against the broken twigs.

I lost track of time, but at least an hour had passed since I'd left the party. He snuck up on me, padding through the foilage silently as I buried myself in my thoughts. He nestled against my legs, surprising me, and nudged my fingers with the wet edge of his nose. Instinctively, I curled them around the curve on his nose and scratched his face gently.

'Shouldn't you be at the party?'

The wolf snorted, lifting my hand with the tip of his nose so that my fingers trailed over the back of his head and down the curve of his neck. He shivered, his eyes rolling back in his head, as I found a point between his shoulders that weakened his knees.

'Gabe Klein?'

He huffed, knocking the back of my legs with his muzzle.

'Hey! It was just a guess. Gabe's not even bad. What about-' I coughed. 'Tim Thomms?'

A strangled choking noise erupted from his chest, and he blinked twice. He sat down as though a weight had just dropped onto his back, staring blankly at me. The name had surprised him.

'Oh my god.' Bile bubbled at the back of my throat, washing my mouth with an acidic bitterness. I clutched my hand to my mouth, holding back the sickening feeling as I stumbled away from him. 'You're trespassing.'

He'd been staring dully at the ground, but then his eyes shot up to mine, panicked, and he shook his head violently. A long whine stretched from him as he dropped to the ground in submission. Tucking his chin between his paws, he stared at me mournfully, inching closer with his belly pressed low to the floor.

I could feel the slackness of my expression. My thoughts froze as he crept closer, and I suddenly felt overdressed, sweat beading under my coat as my chest tightened.

'You're trespassing!' I cried, threading my fingers through my hair. But Jacobi would have said something.

My guesses were always based on nothing, I'd never been sure if he'd tell the truth or not if I guessed correctly, but there were two werewolves I was sure he was not. I'd seen Jacobi waiting by the forest edge more times than I could count, and I'd begged and pleaded with him to tell me who the wolf was, but he'd remained tightlipped. And then there was Lachlan. I'd seen him once, and for the first time since the incident, relief had flooded through me at the sight of him.

'Are you Tim?'

He shook his head again, whimpering softly.

And I believed him.