AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Especially when I'm in way over my head.
Around me, Natalie's sister and her gaggle of friends are already three shots deep, their high-pitched laughter and flirtatious giggles giving me the beginning prickles of a migraine.
I watch them as they lean over the bar, batting their eyelashes at the admittedly gorgeous bartender. The bulging muscles in his biceps, on full display and slightly pinched by his tight black T-shirt, ripple as he mixes their drinks with a practiced ease. He even flashes them a panty-dropping—not to mention tip-dropping—smile.
I sigh, taking a sip of my drink. This is so not my scene. Give me a cozy armchair, a good book, and a glass of red wine any day over this sweaty, neon-lit nightmare.
It's not that I don't want to have fun, to let loose and maybe even find someone to take home for the night. God knows it's been long enough since I've felt the heat of a man's touch or the blissful ache of being thoroughly fucked.
But the thought of actually putting myself out there, of flirting and small talk and the inevitable awkwardness of the morning after... it makes my stomach churn with anxiety.
I've always been an introvert, more comfortable with my own company than the chaos of a crowd. And after everything that's happened—losing Dad, taking care of Mom and Ava—I've retreated even further into myself, building walls around my heart that feel impossible to break down.
I'm not even sure I want to at this point.
Natalie materializes at my side, her cheeks flushed and brown eyes bright with excitement. "Come on, Aria!" she shouts over the music, tugging at my arm. "You can't just sit here all night. Dance with us!"
I hesitate, glancing longingly at the exit. But the pleading look on Natalie's face—the genuine desire for me to have fun and let go for once—has me downing the rest of my drink in one burning gulp.
"Fine," I relent, allowing her to pull me off the bar stool. "But if anyone but you tries to grind on me, I'm out."
Natalie just laughs, dragging me onto the dance floor where the rest of the group is already lost in the pulsing rhythm of trance music. The bass vibrates through the soles of my feet even through my shoes. With the alcohol buzzing away pleasantly, I guess it's not that bad.
I close my eyes, letting the music wash over me. My hips sway of their own accord, my body loosening with each passing beat. Natalie whoops beside me, her joy infectious as we move together, lost in the moment.
And for a little while, I forget.
I forget about the stress of work, the weight of responsibility that constantly threatens to crush me. I even forget about how lonely I am lately. Natalie spins me around, her laughter bright and carefree, and I can't help but join in.
I even manage to laugh.
Maybe this isn't so bad after all. Maybe I needed this—a night to let go, to remember what it feels like to be young and wild and free.
Even if it's just for a moment.
The song changes, something slower and sexier, and I feel a tingle run down my spine. The alcohol is really working its magic now. Natalie raises her eyebrows at me, nodding toward the bar where a hot-as-fuck man who looks like a movie star is watching us with an appreciative gaze.
Watching me, more specifically.
Stylish hair, crisp designer suit, blue eyes glinting with undisguised interest. He's not my usual type, but maybe that's a good thing. I've always been drawn to big, burly blue-collar boys who break the bookish little nerd's heart, and that never got me anywhere but a week-long bender on Cherry Garcia and reruns of Gilmore Girls.
I bite my lip, considering. He is undeniably sexy, all chiseled jaw and smoldering eyes. And the way he's looking at me, like he wants to devour me whole...
Fuck it. I'm doing this.
I'm going to march over there, lay on the charm, and see where this night takes me.
What's the worst that could happen?
Chapter Two
THE HUNTER
The heavy iron door groans shut behind me, sealing off the last vestiges of the modern world. I descend the winding stone staircase, my footsteps echoing in the complete silence as the air grows thicker with the musty scent of damp earth and ancient stone.
At the bottom, I pause before a set of ornate double doors. Carved into the weathered wood, grotesque figures dance in an eternal hunt. A macabre warning of what lies beyond. I push them open, and the chamber unfolds before me.
Dozens of candles flicker and dance in iron sconces along the walls. The light barely penetrates the vastness of the chamber, leaving the vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Thick stone pillars, their surfaces etched with arcane symbols, rise from the polished obsidian floor.
