Midnight Mage

22

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Nope, not thinking about Riven's dead girlfriend, my missing dad, and my psycho-I mean psychic-mother. I definitely wasn't thinking about her proclamation that I would bring Riven's love back to life. Or that Adam had tried to plant a matchmaking seed. Or that I was psychic, too.

Goddammit.

I wanted to go home.

When the limo rolled to a stop outside a glitzy hotel entrance and I saw paparazzi and reporters crowding either side of a red carpet, I almost threw up. As it was, I nearly bloodied Declan's hand with my fingernails.

"Are you kidding me?" I hissed.

Declan grinned as the door was opened from the outside. "What, you thought the designer dress was for a tea party?" He laughed at the mutinous expression on my face. "Just don't trip."

It was actually a near thing, prevented at the last moment by two of the wolves, who managed to keep me upright without making it look like I'd almost eaten carpet.

"Thanks," I whispered, which earned me a wink and a grin.

When the nine of us were unloaded and dramatically lining the curb, the first limo's doors finally opened. Samantha came first, resplendent in a pale blue gown that perfectly contoured her waifish physique. Her blond hair was bound in an elegant chignon, her makeup dramatic yet tasteful. She gazed imperiously at the crowd, a small smile on her face.

Behind her, the Prime emerged, and the paparazzi erupted.

"Prime Thorne!"

"Prime!"

"Riven!"

On and on, they yelled for him. For a look, a smile. I stuck close to Declan, not allowing myself my own look. A tuxedo was probably on par with a gladiator costume-detrimental if not immediately fatal to my IQ.

The red carpet was empty of other parties, no doubt intentionally, as no one stood a chance of winning the spotlight from the Prime.

Adam, white-robed and stoic, joined Declan and me as we brought up the rear. The rest of the wolves formed a loose vanguard before the power couple.

When Riven stopped for the fifth time to speak with a journalist, I whispered tensely, "How long is this going to take?"

Adam muttered, "As long as it takes."

We'd moved maybe another three feet when I heard the first murmurs. A moment later, I saw a finger pointing at me.

"Lightning..."

"Her hair..."

"Saved the Prime..."

"Alfea! Alfea!"

Declan's warm palm pressed to my bare back. "Smile, sparky. And breathe. You're hyperventilating."

My eyes moved of their own volition to the Prime. He was staring right at me, ignoring the yammering journalist behind him. His gaze flickered briefly down my dress, then snapped back to my face. He drew a breath, eyes flickering between peridot and emerald. Beside him, Samantha's lips thinned and an angry flush flooded her cheeks.

"Huh," said Declan.

And because timing was everything, and my life couldn't possibly get better, my arms began to itch.

I turned to Declan. "Get me inside, now. And don't touch me."

At some unspoken command from their alpha, the wolves split formation, allowing us a straight shot to the hotel's open doors. I squared my shoulders, focused on not tripping in my ridiculous heels, and sauntered inside without a backward glance. As soon as I entered the lobby, I veered toward the universal symbol for restrooms, passing through a glittering, whispering crowd.