A Wolf in the City

29. Bears in Sascavania.

Raven.

Flora had dragged me out yet again on an outing, promising me a great girls' night and My best friend had thought that I needed to learn to build good relationships with females.

Well, he's not at all wrong, but when it comes to building that sort of relationship with people like Flora and her friends, it is a but tricky and hard.

But then, I have decided that I am not going to be in a bad mood today, I really just want to loosen up and dance in anyways that I can whether or not it appears good so I do just that. I flirt with the bartender who tells me his name is Luca and I even go as far as dancing the way I would normally only do within the four walls of my bathroom and I feel so good about myself. I dance like this for a while and even attract some attention to myself, when I look around, my eyes land on the one person who would not leave my thoughts.

Dante.

And to my surprise, he simply looks away, acting like we had not just made eye contact. Jerk.

"What on earth are you doing, girl? You're dancing like you got electrocuted." One of Flora's friends say while the others laugh like it is so funny and just like that, they suceed in bringing my morale down.

"Oh come on! It's just a harmless girl friends joke, I don't mean it that way, I promise. Here's to enjoying the moment!" The same girl, Lara says. I nod, desperate to get on her good side even though she’s been nothing but a b***h since the second we met. “Enjoying the moment!” I giggle as I fist pump the air.

"Oh my God, you girls need to see the same yummy guy I keep telling you about coming straight at me right now." Lara says as her ruby red lips splits into a smile, her gaze widening the slightest bit as they slide past me.

“Fancy seeing you here, darling.” My breath whooshes out of me, dread snaking its way through my insides, because I would know that voice anywhere. And from the way Lara is staring, I have a obvious suspicion that the man she had been blowing up and down about is also my Dante.

I cringe inwardly at the use of a personalization against the psychopath's name. 'My Dante, really? When did that even start? You are so so crazy, Raven!' I scold myself.

I of course proceed to gnore Dante, hoping that maybe if I don’t react, he’ll just go away. But lately, it feels as though nothing I wish for never comes true, so, of course, he doesn’t.

Lara draws her shoulders back, pushing out her chest, and whether I like it or not, my stomach twists, because even though I don’t want his attention, I’m not sure I want her to have it either. I choke down another sip of wine. Heat prickles along my back, making my hair stand on end. I peer from the corner of my eye and see Lara's face change, her lips drooping ever so slightly.

Glancing the other way, I notice Flora's gaze flickering between the psychopath at my back and me. “Ignoring me now?” He says as his breath coasts across my ear, and I close my eyes, fighting back a shiver. “That’s not very nice of you.”

I look one more time toward Lara, trying to convey an apology through my expression, before exhaling a heavy breath and giving my attention to the man who wants it. “I can not simply do whatever I want now? Especially when it involves you?" I say.

Spinning around, I expect him to back up, but he doesn’t, and my knees brush against his thighs as he crowds my space. My chest squeezes as my eyes meet his icy green gaze. He is already locked back on me, his stare so intense it splits me in half and burrows in my chest.

“Oh, not again princess. You don’t have to speak rudely, you'retoo pretty to do that,” He says. And I smile, “ Well, I don’t have to do anything and calling someone rude is not even supposed to come from you at all. You are the king of rudeness.” I retort.

His hand moves up and brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. The gesture is soft, gentle, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, princess.” Heat flares deep in my abdomen, and I resist the urge to rub my thighs together, not wanting to show how much he affects me.

How can this psychopath can say something like that, and instead of being repulsed, or disgusted, I’m turned on. His palm slips into mine, my stomach somersaulting at his touch, and he raises it to his mouth, lips grazing the back of my hand. “Dance with me?” He asks.

Goose bumps sprout along my arm. Vaguely, I hear a gasp to my left, but I can’t focus on that, because everything about this jerk sucks me in like a vortex. An alternate dimension where everything is muted apart from him. Excitement swirls in the pit of my stomach but I don't act on it. “No.” I say whilst giving him the stinky eyes..

He grins, and my breath stutters at how disarming he is when he smiles. Before he can say anything else, a young man, an unfamiliar one, rushes up behind him, whispering in his ear. And just like that, Dante's entire demeanor shifts, and he excuses himself to attend to something that seemed obviously very urgent. I felt a little disappointed when he leaves, I can not believe that I was enjoying that attention.

Why did he have to always stirr up things in me by being sweet at first only to end it all by been rude? I swear, that man is crazy and what is even crazier is me having all of these fantasies and nonsense about him. A sane gentleman like Kai is who deserves this kind of stuffs from me, it's so unhealthy that I am attracted to a man like Dante. I deserve better than that jerk.

Lara downs her drink in one go, placing it gingerly on the counter before she turns her eyes on me, her stare stinging as it rips through my skin.

“Look,” I start. “I didn’t know he was the guy you were talking about.” She scoffs. “I’m really sorry, Lara but we know eachother before and he's a very crazy jerk so don't think I even want anything to do with him.” I cringe, knowing I’m only making a bad situation worse.

“Oh, it is fine, I’m fine, it's just one man. He is not even all that." She pauses. “I’m just surprised, that's all. I really can’t imagine him being into someone like you.”

My nose crinkles, her judgment drizzling on my body like rain. There’s never been a moment in her presence where she hasn’t found some way to cut me down, and I’m sick of it. “Lara, you should not say things like—” Flora starts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I cut in.

She shrugs. “It just, doesn’t make sense. He’s such a good looking man with charisma that is on top of the roof, rich too and he also seems like a very powerful man. One who could have any woman he wanted, and he’s stuck on you?”

My body instinctively curls in on itself. “Ouch,” I whisper. She smiles, reaching over and patting my forearm. “No offense, of course.” Her words hit their mark, bruising my insides and cutting me open just enough to let my anger bleed. It whips through me like a windstorm, but I push it back down with a few deep breaths. It doesn’t matter what she thinks, she herself does not even matter, who does she think she is anyways?

My jaw locks into place and I move to say something else to eliminate the tension but the icy, drunken daggers of Lara's gaze makes me falter, and I find myself replaying all of the words she said through the night— the thinly veiled insults striking harder with every lash. The whisper of anger that’s been brewing in my gut finally boils over, anger boiled deep in my system, as hot as lava. It churns within, hungry for destruction, and I know it's too much for me to handle.

The pressure of this raging sea of anger would obviously force me to say very bad things that can get the night to get ugly quickly, or to express thoughts I've suppressed for weeks. I know I have to get out everyone's way before I erupt in my furious state. So I decide to just move away from the negativity for a while before I erupt and so I stand on my feet, "I need to use the restroom, I'll be back soon." I say as I excuse myself.

It isn't when I start to walk to the restroom that I realize that I might have had more drinks than usual because I feel so lightheaded and tipsy. I keep struggling to keep my balance, it’s like some sort of outer body experience. My legs don’t work as I tell them. Neither do my hands. Or my fingers. Somewhere deep inside, I know that my brain is sending signals telling me what to do. Whether or not my body is listening is a different story. I can feel it moving. It can feel it doing what it wants. Can I stop it? We all know the answer to that. It’s doing as it pleases.

I try to walk down to the restroom, but my legs are telling me otherwise. They are swaying – left and right. No matter how many steps I take, I’m no closer to where I want to be but then suddenly a strange man puts his hands around my waist and drags me to the restroom.

Even though I am quite drunk, I still know that I am in fingers at the moment as the stranger's coarse whisky tongue licks at my skin, stubby fingers curling in my hair. Every time I close my eyes, he bashes my head backward onto the concrete demanding I open them. I don’t want to so I close them over and over, anything rather than watch his face light up with with power and lust. So he gets angry and clenches his fist, a vein pops out of his forehead and then he swings his arm.

I begin to feel light-headed, my legs give way and I crumble to the ground. My vision blurs as tiny droplets of sweat runsdown my forehead. He seems please with himself as I hear the sound of his zip while also wondering why this restroom is so deserted. I try to move, to do something and defend myself but I just can't move a bone in me.

Just when I think that I am about to pass out, I see a hairy animal jump through my vision and through the man to a wall.

'I did not know that there are bears in Sascavania much more heroic ones,' is what crosses my mind just before everything goes dark.