Page 36 of Bloodween

“Okay!” She fanned herself. “Let me go tinkle before we leave or I start crying. I can’t wait to get drunk.”

I giggled. “Same.”

As soon as she disappeared down the hall, I looked at myself in the mirror again. I deserved a round of applause for the Oscar worthy performance I put on tonight. By the end of it all, I almost forgot that Dorian wasn’t really missing—but resting nice and cozy on my dresser.

And tonight little wolf, I’ll celebrate your life for you.

That’s what gratitude looks like, right?

My magic roared beneath my skin as I twirled around.

Red was definitely my color.

That’s why I’d always associated it with power. Red lipstick. Red dresses. Red wine. In my world—in the world of The Crimson Witches of the Blood Coven—red was our identity. Red meant magic. Red meant sacrifice. Red meant blood.

Apparently, red also meant betrayal, lies, and I guess sometimes love.

Not for me though; be safe out there.

Happy Bloodween.