9. Ready to Party

Islam the door closed behind me and attempt to catch my breath.

She was magnificent.

Everything about her made my soul feel like it was on fire. Bright, hot, and burning, coursing through my veins, calling to her.

Needingher.

No. No, I don't. I have to get these thoughts out of my head. Never once in my one hundred years have I encountered this situation. So why now? And how the fuck do I make it stop?

I don't need a mate. I have lived contently for so long without one. And yet, deep down, I know that's what she is. Mine.

Once I caught her scent, nothing else has enticed me so. Now that I saw her, no beauty will compare. And once I taste her? I fear nothing else will satiate me.

I should spare her. I should leave now, tonight. I know those thoughts are pointless as I begin the process of changing my clothes and readying myself for the party. If I were a better man, a selfless one, then perhaps she would be safe from me.

But I am none of those things. I am selfish and I crave what is mine.

With my black trousers and button-down shirt in place, I pair the ensemble off with a vest that shines a dark cherry red in the right light, matching the attire defiance along with her delicious lipstick. To be fair, she would look no less appetizing in a disgustingly bright yellow, but the black against her soft white skin is so inviting. The modification to make this a black-attire event was a last-minute decision made by my accounts manager. He has quite the eye for lush events, so I am rather pleased he made sure this would be more to my tastes. Perhaps it's due to the fact that this is my one-hundredth birthday affair and not my thirtieth or something.

Still, I find myself making a mental note to provide him with a nice raise. It's something he has earned now many times over.

Closing my eyes, I see her again. The woman's hair was a beautiful fiery contrast to her all black attire. Her skin was covered more than most, but the dramatic neckline was enticing. I only managed a quick glance just minutes ago and already I want more. So much more.

My hand shakes as I attempt to adjust the knot in my black silk tie. Bracing myself against the edge of my closet door, I take a few steadying breaths. The act is purposeful as my kind tends to go longer spans between our breathing to begin with. But I need to find my calm. I have to make a proper appearance at my birthday party, and I can't simply rush down there to thrust myself before a stranger.

Oh, Gods! What do I even say to her? I can't remember the last time I tried to flirt or pick up a woman, and this is my mate. She deserves more than just some one-line garbage to entice her into my bed.

Though I do certainly hope we end up there.

I spare a quick turn around my rooms. Making sure everything is neat and perfect. Ready for her. However, if her hunger for me is burning as deeply, the room will not remain in order for long. Taking a few more breaths, I manage to retract my fangs. I can't remember the last time that was such an issue for me.

Looking around, I note that everything is in place. As neat and tidy as always, thanks to my attentive staff. My rooms are much like the rest of my home. Large, but not in an imposing manner, with dark colors adorning the walls and flooring. Plush expensive rugs and fixtures all throughout.

While my bank accounts are nothing to scoff at, my appreciation for surrounding myself with opulence is more based on my personal tastes rather than a show of wealth. Much like the darker decor throughout the house is a reflection of my aesthetic pleasures and not to be confused with preconceived notions surrounding vampires and their gothic prevalences. Well, that and blood is much less likely to show visible stains on lighter colors.

Music filters through the walls of my bedroom. As thick as they are, I don't normally hear such things, even with my enhanced hearing. But the live music is a much higher decibel than normal day-to-day noises, or the chef's music playing through the speakers of the kitchen.

My skin prickles and I know she's stepped inside my home. Most likely wandering around with her shifter friend. Mingling with other guests and filling the rooms with her scent. Perhaps dodging advancements from others.

That final thought is what pushes me into action. Faster than the snap of a finger I finish adjusting my accessories and secure my mask. With a quick glance at the mirror, I note that the mask provides just enough anonymity to bolster my confidence. If I manage to make a fool of myself tonight, I could simply try again. She would be none the wiser.

Ignoring the logistics of her being able to sense my presence and most likely my scent, I stroll with confidence from my rooms and head toward the ballroom.

At least Keith helped to quell my thirst. Now I should have no issue at all around my guests.

Around her though? It's hard to say how long I will last before my desire wins over my control.

The moment I hit the ballroom her scent envelops me.

It's fire and petrichor. Mouthwatering. My hair stands on end and a low growl forms in my throat.

Fuck the pleasantries with guests. I need to get to her. Now.

I just hope she is ready for me.