Word Count: 1700

~Alvera

I bring the frosty glass to my lips, tasting the salty rim before the sweetness of the berry margarita.

"So anyway, I eventually had to tell Georgia to drop it." I shake my head, exasperated. "She could not stop going on about you."

Venn leans back in the booth seat, considering me quietly.

I wish he would stop brushing his fingers against his lower lip. It keeps drawing my attention to the fullness, which is exactly where my gaze should stop falling too.

"I've never met a Georgia," he murmurs.

"Yeah well, that's my point. You didn't need to meet her and she was obsessed with you," I say, unable to keep the words from spilling from my mouth. "You have that, mysterious loner thing going for you..."

His brows raise. "Mysterious loner thing?"

I surge onward. "...Thankfully Georgia's family moved away and took her with them. She was sweet but man could she talk."

I'm not even entirely certain how we got onto the topic. We have only been in here for half an hour and I demolished my tacos and am into my third margarita.

However, his effect on the townspeople is a fascinating topic to focus on. The way eyes find him in a crowd is practically supernatural.

"And yes, you are a mysterious loner. The fact that you've been in town for eight months and I've never spoken to you is weird," I bring up.

I can't sit here looking at him, cast under the deep purple light of Roxxie's restaurant LED's and not talk about it.

"Not everyone in this town needs to know each other intimately." He absently folds at a paper napkin, pressing the corners together neatly.

"In a town this small they do."

The expanse of land may be large, but much of it isn't utilised. There was no money after the war, and the mountain bordering the main road made resource harvesting virtually impossible. The economy died down, and realisation hit...

The werewolves were chased away from their home for nothing. While they prospered, humans retrogressed. Spite kept the treaty's covenants alive for all these years...it's deplorable.

"I'm not intending to be mysterious. I just have no interest in getting to know anyone," he responds simply.

"And yet here you are, eating taco's and drinking margarita's with me." I smile smugly, taking another sip of my drink.

Kim is going to lose her mind at work tomorrow when I show up hungover and armed with quite the story.

"Actually only you are drinking the margaritas." He drops his gaze to the two empty glasses pushed to the end of the table. "Enough for the both of us, by the way."

He opted out of more than one drink. It's how he's maintaining his faultless mask of calm.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in knowing me?" I ask.

He pauses before releasing a soft exhale. "Curiosity."

My brows quirk up. He's curious about me? That doesn't seem likely.

"Well I'm leaving, so you missed your opportunity to fuck me." I drag my finger against the rim of my glass, collecting the salt.

To Venn's credit, he doesn't flinch. He remains still, passively assessing me like I'm a riddle he is slowly deciphering.

"Is that what you think I want?" He murmurs.

I shrug with one shoulder, wiping the excess salt onto a napkin. "Why else would you get to know a girl leaving town?"

He leans back. "Good question."

"There you go, being all mysterious and weird again." I sigh wistfully. "I'm not going to sleep with you unless you're really nice to me."

I'm only half serious. I don't find myself falling into strangers beds all that often, but considering my looming date, I could be tempted...

Not to mention, I know his reputation. Some girls exaggerate, I'm sure, but there have been some he's lured back to that strange cabin deep in the woods, who have emerged with lavish stories detailing his prowess in bed.

Maybe it's small town syndrome, but I always wondered why not me? Why have I been the one he's avoided, dipping from rooms with nothing more than a glance in my direction?

"How many of those have you had again?" Venn points to my margarita, as if he can't see the evidence of the glasses collected on the table.

It's his subtle, not so subtle way of telling me relent. It is a Tuesday night, after all.

"Two and a half." I take another sip for good measure, wincing at the brain freeze.

Roxxie is a merciful, generous woman. She doesn't skimp on the alcohol content when crafting a pitcher.

For the first time since I've been properly introduced to Venn, I see amusement dancing in his eyes. I see warmth, the flicker of someone beyond the usual mask of indifference.

"Drunk?"

"Tipsy. I just talk a lot the moment I get alcohol in my system," I correct, tapping my temple. "Everything up here is working perfectly."

"You're cute." He says it like he can't help himself, like he's been gazing at me for over half an hour and it's at the forefront of my mind.

I'm not sure why but it stings a little. I've been pressing him to see if he's here to seduce me, and now he's calling me cute...

"Cute?" I rest my elbow on the table, bracing my chin against the heel of my palm. "Blah. I bet you wouldn't call my sister cute. I bet you'd think she was sexy."

Oh god. I'm two drinks in and the insecurities can't help themselves but come up.

Venn frowns. "Your sister?"

"Sorry." I brush him off, hoping he mistakes the flush of my cheeks to be from the alcohol. "I don't know why I said that."

"You and Belle are identical twins," he points out.

I want to ask him how much he knows about Belle, and whether he has spoken to her before. I withhold the question, forgetting about it the moment is appears in my mind.

I narrow my eyes. "Hey, how do you know that?"

"I'm not blind. I figured when I saw two versions of you in one room that there was only one plausible explanation."

"Oh, right." I shake my head, giggling as I push away the glass of bad influence. "We are only kind of identical. I have more freckles, and I'm a smidge taller. Plus, she gets this cool layered haircut that—"

"There is no benefit in comparing yourself to someone you love. It will only harm your relationship," he cuts in.

He's speaking so matter-of-factly. On any other day I would probably irritated that he's lecturing me on a relationship he knows nothing about, but tonight, I respect his bluntness.

"Why didn't we speak earlier? I like you." I point my finger at him, my smile loose, uninhibited.

He's supposed to brush me off, to make up some unconvincing excuse. Instead, he angles his head to the side, a haunted look in his eyes.

"It wasn't safe."

For some reason my tired, tipsy brain doesn't snag onto that revelation.

"What isn't safe is how everyone I care about is going to be killed by werewolves." I flatten my palms against the glossy table, seeing the lights turn my white nail polish purple. "Belle, Lilith...thank god my parents are already dead."

I smother my mouth with my hand. That sounded more morbid than I intended.

"As long as you're not here. That's what matters," Venn says quietly. "I can keep an eye on Belle and this Lilith person you speak of."

I blink. "Wait, you're staying?"

"Yes."

"Why? The Alpha King will tear you to shreds!" I dampen my voice. This place may be quiet save for one or two staff members, but my words still carry.

People don't speak about the Alpha King. To them, it's a gruesome title belonging to a vicious man. A title you don't dare recite three times over in a dark room.

The faintest smile curves at his lips. "I'm certain I will be fine. I am well prepared."

I shake my head in bewilderment. "You're so strange."

I can't help but envisage a basement full of weapons and gear to survive months in a post werewolf return world. My assessment of him so far fits such a description.

He leans forward, bracing his forearms on the table as he holds me still with his gaze.

"Perhaps, but you feel drawn to me," he murmurs lowly.

I pause. "I...how did you know?"

"Because I feel drawn to you." He cocks his head, the gilded light tracing every curve in his dark waves of hair. "But that doesn't mean we can ever speak again beyond this night. Do you understand?"

I shift, my ego a little tender from that assault. Thankfully I'm too tipsy to think it's anything wrong with me.

"Why?"

"You're leaving town, and I don't want you having another reason to return."

I huff out a breath, twisting a lock of dark blond hair around my finger, checking for split ends absentmindedly. He speaks like he's certain us staying in contact would result in a relationship.

"Things aren't good here. Nothing is holding me back, don't worry," I tell him flatly, wincing as I take a sip of my drink. The ice has melted, leaving behind a watery slush of alcohol and syrup.

"What's bothering you?" He asks, sensing the bitterness in my tone.

I sigh, shaking my head hopelessly as I trace my fingertip against the condensation clouding my glass.

"So much. You have no idea."

I guess I have unwittingly spiralled into the depressive part of my drinking experience. That came on far quicker than I expected it to.

He abruptly stands, my brain taking a moment to catch up.

"Come with me."

💙••💙

Hey everyone, thank you so much for deciding the read this story, it means a lot!

If you want to read ahead at any point, you can read this story 10 chapters ahead on Radish and 15 chapters ahead on Inkitt (:

I'm sorry if this chapter seems cut off strangely, it was original mixed with chapter 3 but it ended up being nearly 4000 words long so I had to split it!

~Midika 💜🐼