Colton~~

This is what? The eighth desperate girl?

Without moving my head, I glance at my brother who coldly observes the ballroom with its swaying dresses and laurel wreaths glistening in the light of the chandeliers. Really it is rather an impressive dancing hall. I still miss the one at the old estate, though. Why did Erik have to go and kill that doomed girl?

Oh yes, doomed girls.

I turn my attention back to the girl smiling at me before my throne.

"Are you looking for a dance, Mister Blackwood?" She folds her hands in front of her red toga-like dress.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, but I notice my sister, Gwen, does. I take a deep breath. "No. And even if I were, I would never lower myself to dance with a girl as hideous in looks and desperate for male attention as you."

The girl's face pales and with a quick curtsey she rushes away. My brother tries his hardest to contain his smile and chuckle.

"Red was not her color," my sister comments absentmindedly, her nose turned upward. "I rather enjoyed that show, Colton. I should try it on the next sorry lout who thinks himself worthy enough to dance with the Preeminence's daughter."

"Jonas," I turn only my head, keeping my hands on the armrests, "might I be excused from this tedious party?"

My brother studies my face, his chin held high. "If it is what you wish." His eyes close and his shoulders sag for only a second before he waves me off.

I steal away from the ballroom, avoiding the coy looks from the non-Society women. The hallways are empty; everyone is inside the ballroom enjoying themselves. I push open one of the sets of French doors and let the cool air clear my head as I walk into the hedge maze.

Beta. Sighing, I run my hand through my hair and shake my head. I'll be the best. I'll make my brother proud.

"Gggaaaahh!"

My head snaps up, and I hurry through the bends and twists of the maze, stopping at the fountain. Two lamp posts are the only source of light to see by. They cast their glow on a girl sprawled in the fountain.

She looks toward me, shaking her head at herself and laughing slightly. "Mind giving me a hand?"

I approach her, curious. "I must ask... how did you manage this?" I gesture with my hand to her and then to the fountain before holding it out to her.

"I thought I could balance on the ridge." She takes my wrist, and as I pull her up she receives a better look at my face.

And. . .she lets go, falling back down into the water, splashing me. She covers her face with her hand. "You're Colton Blackwood."

"Yes, I am."

She groans. "Don't look at me. I'm humiliated."

I allow myself to smile slightly and take her hand, pulling her to her feet. Her soaked blonde hair has traces of sagging waves, and once she removes her hand I can tell her eyes are dark-probably blue. And they're staring at me, wide-eyed.

"I'm so sorry. You must forgive me."

I tilt my head to the side. "What are you doing out here?"

"Trying to get lost." She bites her lip. "I thought it sounded fun." Her dark green gown sticks to her torso while the skirt hangs limply at her sides, dripping water onto the stones below her feet. I shrug off my blazer and help her into it. The whole time she stares at me in disbelief. She finally tears her gaze away from me to look down at the blazer. "Thank you."

"Come with me. I'll help you find a dry dress."

She follows behind me as I guide us out of the maze. "Why are you helping me?" she asks suddenly.

She poses an interesting question. One which catches me off guard. "You don't think yourself worthy to be in my presence. You're humble, unlike the rest of the girls inside that ballroom."

She's silent until we reach the doors leading inside. I hold one open for her.

"Why were you out here?" she asks as she steps by me.

I think about what I will answer as I lead her to the stairs. "I wanted to be by myself for a moment."

"I guess that didn't work out for you."

I glance behind me and find her smiling at me. "That's all right."

I take her to my bedroom. She gazes around my room, clearly shocked I'm helping her and that I brought her here.

"I'll be back in a moment. Feel free to find a spot to sit down."

She nods, still speechless.

What am I doing?

******

When I return with one of my sister's dresses clutched in my hand, I find her sitting on the edge of my bed, the blazer shielding the comforter from the water on her dress.

"I hope you don't mind."

And strangely I don't. "You can wear this."

She stands up hesitantly and takes it from my grasp— careful, it seems, not to touch me.

"You can change in the bathroom."

"Thank you, Mister Blackwood." Once she enters the bathroom she is out in three minutes and nine seconds. Sadly I didn't have anything better to do than count. Even in the dry black dress she continues to wear my blazer. I suppose she is probably still cold.

"Colton," I say.

"What?"

I motion for her to sit down again. "You can call me Colton."

She takes a seat at the edge of my bed. "Where did the dress come from?"

"It's my sister's."

"Will she be all right with me wearing this?"

I shake my head right before I enter the bathroom. "She'd probably harm you," I call from inside as I open a white cabinet. I grab a small white towel and hand it to her as I take a seat at her side.

She looks at me with worry as she wraps it around strands of her hair and squeezes and twists. "Maybe I should put my own back on."

"I won't let her hurt you."

She smiles, making me smile back. Damn it. Her smile is just too damn contagious. "Why thank you, Colton. Do you want to go back down there?"

"I only recently slipped away. I can't handle all those desperate women."

Her smile grows even wider. No! She needs to stop smiling. "The Beta can't do something?"

"Future Beta. And it's not that I can't, rather I don't want to."

She leans back propping herself up with her elbows. "And do I count as one of those?"

"No. You just seem rather helpless."

"I am not helpless."

"Oh really?"

She points a finger at me. "I'll have you know that I could school you at a basketball game."

"You'll have to demonstrate sometime."

She falls onto her back. "What kind of Beta will you be?" Her voice is calm.

I twist myself and position my back against the pillows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean are you going to be a kind and compassionate Beta? Or just like all the other ones?"

"And all the other ones would be like. . .?"

"They would have shot, tortured, or if it were my Expiration Date, killed me just for asking for help." She sits up, and I find myself leaning closer toward her.

My eyes search her face. "I find I have no answer to provide you with."

She raises a hesitant hand toward my face before letting it fall to her side. "You helped me."

I glance down to her Expiration Date above her wrist.

"Why?" She sticks her head underneath mine, looking up at me.

"I—" my voice catches in my throat, "I don't know."

"Oh my, my, my. . . a Beta without an answer."

"I usually have one."

The smile she gives me does something to my heart. No. No. No. What is this girl doing to me? She blinks those dark, long lashes. "Then what's got your mind muddled?"

You. "Nothing. Who are you?"

She drops her head back down. I'm not sure if she meant for it to land on my leg. But whether or not she did, there her head is. She looks out of the corner of her eye across my room. "I'm V. But you can call me Vienna."

"You're an orphan," I say, my voice soft with understanding.

She sighs before smiling. "Not anymore. I suppose this loses any respect you might have had for me, finding out my heritage is unknown, and that I'm not one of the precious lines of blood you allow in."

I want so badly to touch her face. Damn it, Colton. Pull it together.

"My adoptive parents are close friends of the Society, however."

Would she mind terribly if I played with her hair? "Who are your parents?"

"The Rosens."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And you think I'd have no respect for you?"

Vienna ducks her head and blushes. "I suppose it is rather a good last name to have."

"You look cute when you blush."

Her head snaps back, her face appearing horrified before she starts to laugh. "Then you look adorable when you blush."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

And her grin causes me to laugh too.

We talk about everything, and we laugh. I've never laughed so much.

". . . and the cat—"

"He didn't."

Vienna's eyes twinkle as she nods, trying to contain her laughter. "Jumped on my father's head. I'm not sure who was more terrified— my father or the cat." She pushes herself upright. "I suppose I should go back down before someone creates a scandal involving us."

I sit up and take her hand, not wanting her to go. She stares at it in shock. Instinct tells me to pull it away. But I...I as in me, who I am, doesn't want to let go. "When do you ever hear of a scandal happening in the Society?"

"Not often. . . never."

"I swear they happen all the time. We're just really good at hiding them." I grin at her. Please, now I'm grinning.

She struggles to smile. "Well let's not create a scandal then." She pushes herself off the bed, and I follow her to the door. Slipping out of the blazer she says, "I suppose I need to return this to you."

"Yes. I suppose so." I set it down on my dresser slowly. "When can I see you again?"

Her eyes lock with mine. "Are you asking to date me, Colton Blackwood?"

"Or court you, whichever works for you."

She places her fingers to her lips, hiding another heart-stopping smile. "I suppose I need to return this dress to you at some point."

"When?"

Her face turns coy. "Now who's the one who's desperate? I'll think of something." And then she's gone. Gone. My room—I—feel emptier. I can't figure her out, and I want to.

I throw open my door. "Vienna, wait."

She stops and turns, her eyes confused.

I run my hand through my hair. Whether she knows it or not she has me all messed up. "Dance with me. I want you to be my partner in that sea of chaos down there."

Her expression turns soft. "Of course."

I quickly join her and take her hand. Instead of going down, I take her up the stairs.

"Where are we going?"

"I want to give you something." I open the door to where the women dress for ceremonies. While Vienna admires the dresses, I study a row of mannequin heads with laurel wreaths formed out of precious metals resting on top of them. With care I lift a silver one off its stand and walk behind Vienna, placing it gently on her head.

"What—" She turns to the side where there is a mirror. "It's beautiful," she whispers as she places her fingers on it, admiring the intricate workmanship.

"Now, shall we go?" I hold out my hand, and she quickly takes it and pulls me out of the room, up the hall and down the stairs—running.

I'm running. She has me running. She's incredible. But will the Society approve of her? My father? Mother?

Them?

Still running, we enter the ballroom, where she immediately places a hand on my shoulder, turning to me. "I should warn you that I will in all likelihood step on your feet."

I place my hand on her waist and pull her closer to me. Looking into her eyes I take her hand. "Just follow me."

"Oh really? I thought you were following me."

This must be the closest you can get to love at first sight.