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The escort returned and led us to the ballroom’s double doors. “Wait here. Once you hear your name called, I’ll open the doors for you, and you can make your entrance.”
What the hell? Was this a lunar mate ceremony or Cinderella’s ball? And if it was Cinderella’s ball, what the fuck did that make me?
I glanced at my mother and raised my eyebrows, the question unspoken but obvious between us.
Holding her hand up between us in a stop-traffic kind of way, she mouthed the word breathe.
All right. I supposed we were doing the grand-entrance thing.
The announcer’s loud voice came over the speaker system. “And now, will you please direct your attention to the main ballroom entrance? Please welcome your host for the lunar ceremony, Ty Keller!”
I stood tall as the escort quickly opened the double doors. Stepping into a room filled with shifters, I gave my best smile and held my hand up in a wave. I knew how to be cordial, even when battling surprise. There were twice as many shifters as I expected. “Thank you all for coming.”
Once the applause died down and the voices were little more than a low murmur, someone grabbed my arm and tugged. “Right this way. No time to waste.”
Mother dragged me across the ballroom to a tall woman dressed in a long, purple gown. “Ty, I’d like you to meet Stephanie Aldrich.”
I stared into her eyes. Nothing. Not even a dick twitch. There should’ve been at least that.
“Nice to meet you, Stephanie.” I shot Mother a look, and she took the cue to move me through the crowd to the next target.
My mother introduced me to woman after woman, but there was no pull, no tug in my gut, no real reaction at all.
“This is Gladys Underwood. Her mother and I went to school together. We were sorority sisters.” Mother stood back, watching closely for any type of signal that meant there was even a sliver of attraction between the two of us.
Gladys, though strikingly beautiful, seemed shy. I reached for her hand. “Wonderful to meet you, Gladys.”
She blushed. “I’ve heard so much about you, Ty.”
I would have wondered what that meant, but my mother was nearby. Not really much to wonder.
I glanced at my watch, and my heart dropped. I’d only been at this for fifteen minutes and it already felt like an eternity. “Please, excuse me.”
I walked toward the door; Mother hot on my trail.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need a drink.” The bar was just outside on the terrace, and I couldn’t get there fast enough.
“Tyson.” I turned to face her because she’d put that kind of emphasis on my name.
“Oh, come on, Mother. I need a drink. Or is that not allowed? Do I have to dehydrate on top of being tortured with these horrific introductions?” If I was honest, they weren’t all horrific, but no one had yet made me consider mate-bonding.
She knew it, too. It explained her scowl. “Fine. Come straight back, though.” The implication was in her tone—if I took too long, she would send someone after me. It was graduation all over again.
I gave her the same nod eighteen-year-old me had given, then hustled to the bar. “Scotch. Neat.”
The bartender nodded and poured the amber liquid into an old-fashioned glass. I knocked the smooth, buttery Scotch back and motioned for another. The second took the edge off.
Ahh. That was better.
“One more.”
This time, I picked up the glass and brought it with me. I mingled in the ballroom instead of returning to my mother’s side. In one corner, there was a group of guys about my age, and it looked like they were all hiding out, huddled together, and—like me—wishing the night would end. “So, this is where all the fun’s happening.”
I knew a couple of them, but they all laughed and greeted me with smiles, a couple off-handed waves, and some nods.
“Where’ve you been?” Jace Windham was my age, a couple inches shorter, and whereas my hair was black as night, his was more of an aged-whiskey brown. Still dark, but not as dark. We’d known each other since we were kids.
