THE LOST PRINCESS OF THE WOLVES.

CHAPTER 8

ARIA POV

"I'm just asking," he said, taking a sip of his drink, "You don't really seem like the party type, you give more nerdy study in the library vibes."

I laughed, actually laughed, but there was zero humor in it. "Are you kidding me right now?"

His eyebrows went up even higher. "What?"

"You texted me," I said slowly, "you invited me to this party, you sent me the address, the time, everything, so why are you standing here acting clueless?"

"I never texted you."

"Yes you did."

"No," he said, his voice going flat, "I didn't. There's no way I would ever text you of all people to invite you to a party."

The way he said it, so certain, so dismissive, made something hot and angry flare up in my chest.

"You're lying," I said.

"I'm not lying, you're the one who's lying."

"Why would I lie about this?"

"I don't know, maybe you wanted to come to the party and figured if you said I invited you nobody would question it."

"That's insane."

"Is it?"

I pulled out my phone, hands shaking slightly from anger, "Here, look, this is your number, these are your messages."

I shoved the phone at him.

He looked at the screen, his expression shifting from annoyed to confused in about half a second.

"That's my number," he said slowly.

"I know it's your number, that's what I've been saying."

"But I didn't send these."

"Then who did?"

He pulled out his own phone, scrolled through it, showed me the screen, "Look, no messages to you, nothing. My last text was to Dan asking what time to get here."

I looked at his phone, then at mine, then back at his.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"No it doesn't," he said, and for the first time since I'd met him he actually looked uncertain about something. "Someone used my number to text you."

"Who would do that?"

"I don't know."

We stood there in awkward silence, the party happening around us, people laughing and dancing, completely unaware that something very weird was happening right here in this hallway.

"Well," I said eventually, "I'm here now, I might as well enjoy the party."

"Aria."

"What."

"This is, someone pretending to be me to get you here is not normal."

"I'm aware."

"You should be careful."

"I can take care of myself," I said, and walked past him before he could say anything else.

I needed a drink.

Actually I needed several drinks.

I found what looked like a bar setup in the kitchen, bottles everywhere, red cups stacked high, a guy mixing something that looked toxic in a big bowl.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Fruit punch," he said, grinning, "Dan's special recipe, it's superb."

"Is there alcohol in it?"

"Just a little."

That should have been my first red flag, but I was stressed and confused and, honestly, I just wanted to stop thinking about mysterious texts and weird dreams for five minutes.

I poured myself a cup and took a sip.

It tasted like fruit juice, sweet and easy, no burn at all.

I finished the cup.

Poured another one.

Finished that too.

By the third cup, I was starting to feel it, that warm fuzzy feeling that meant the alcohol was definitely working.

"Just a little," I muttered, "that guy is a liar."

I wandered through the house, looking for Hanna, looking for literally anyone I recognized, but everyone was a stranger and the room was starting to spin slightly.

"Okay, maybe three cups was too many," I said to nobody.

I needed a bathroom.

I asked someone where it was, they pointed upstairs, I climbed the stairs very carefully because they seemed steeper than they should be.

I found a bathroom at the end of the hallway, pushed the door open, locked it behind me.

The quiet was nice. After all that noise downstairs, I could actually hear myself think again.

I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and looked at myself in the mirror.

My eyes looked different, brighter somehow, the makeup Hanna did was holding up pretty well.

I was still looking at my reflection when I saw it.

Movement.

Behind me.

In the mirror.

A shaped, dark, standing right there in the bathroom with me.

I spun around fast, my heart jumping into my throat.

Nothing.

The bathroom was empty.

Just me, the sink, the toilet, the shower with its curtain pulled back showing nothing.

"You're drunk," I said to myself, "you're drunk and seeing things, it's fine, everything is fine."

I turned back to the sink to finish washing my hands and that's when I saw it again.

The shape in the mirror, clearer this time, closer.

Not a reflection of something in the bathroom.

Something in the mirror itself.

Watching me.

I didn't turn around this time, just stared at it in the mirror, my hands frozen under the running water.

It moved closer.

I could see features now, a face, but wrong somehow, the proportions off, the eyes too large, too dark.

"You're not real," I whispered.

The thing in the mirror tilted its head.

Then it smiled.

I stumbled backwards, hitting the wall, my hands flying up in front of me like that would do anything.

When I looked back in the mirror it was just me again, just my reflection, nothing else.

"Okay," I said out loud, my voice shaking, "Okay, you're leaving, you're leaving right now."

I grabbed the door handle and pulled.

It didn't move.

I pulled harder.

Still nothing.

"Come on," I said, pulling with both hands now, "open, please open."

The handle turned, but the door wouldn't budge, like something was holding it shut from the other side.

"This isn't funny," I called out, "If someone's out there, this isn't funny."

No response.

I tried the handle again, yanking it, putting my whole weight into it.

Nothing.

"Help," I yelled, louder now, "Someone help, I'm stuck."

The music downstairs was too loud, nobody could hear me.

I looked back in the mirror.

The thing was there again, standing right behind me now, so close I should be able to feel its breath on my neck.

But I couldn't feel anything.

Because it wasn't really there.

It was only in the mirror.

"No, no, no," I said, my voice breaking, "This can't be happening, please."

Tears were gathering in my eyes now, my whole body shaking.

I pounded on the door with my fists, "Help, please, someone help me."

The thing in the mirror leaned closer.

Its mouth moved like it was saying something but no sound came out.

Then the bathroom light flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Went out completely.

I screamed.

The light came back on.

The mirror was empty again.

But written across it in what looked like condensation, even though the shower hadn't been running, were three words.

"When the time is right."

I stared at the words, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.

The door handle turned on its own.

The door swung open.

I didn't wait to see if something was going to walk in.

I ran.