CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14

Cynthia

I didn’t want to wear the dress.

I was fine with the black dress.

But then Maya ’accidentally’ tripped over the train and it snagged on her shears, and that’s why I now have to stand in the back of the ballroom, sulking in a pretty red dress that I actually like and still don’t want to wear.

I have a glass of champagne in my hand, which I touch to my lips every couple of minutes to pretend I’m drinking. I’ve never really been to one of these things, but I see a lot of faces I recognize. However, I don’t want to go meet them. I don’t want to engage in any small talk. I just want to stay for another hour until enough people have seen me and then go back home.

However, I’m not that lucky.

One of the CEOs of a local company in our area spots me and waves me over. I’ve worked with this man directly, and he introduces me to his companions. Once in the center of the ballroom, I inevitably have to socialize. More and more people I’ve worked with and alongside come to say hi and discuss things. I find out that KDL Foods has lost a couple of customers who are also business owners ever since I left. Some of the customers and suppliers voice their dissent about the new liaison they’ve had to work with, and that does make me feel slightly better.

However, that doesn’t mean I’m completely comfortable in this setting. Usually, I’m facing these men in boardrooms and meetings, and now I have to make chitchat. Once they find out I’m working as an assistant, I get numerous job offers which I don’t know whether to take seriously or not. Several business cards are handed to me with secretive smiles and offers to set up a meeting.

The small purse that Maya made me carry is heavy with business cards.

An hour or so passes before I manage to retreat to a corner of the room.

I close my eyes and let out a sigh.

I’ve had too many people I worked with introduce me to their single sons. I can barely manage the one man I seem to have in my life. What am I supposed to do with so many of them?

"You look like you could use a drink," comes a vaguely familiar voice that has me opening my eyes.

The man before me is holding out a wine glass that has apple juice in it. My eyes linger on the scar on the side of his face.

"I know you," I murmur, accepting the glass. "That day in the lobby a few weeks ago…"

"You were about to fall when I caught you." He smiles at me before holding out his hand. "I’m Robert, by the way."

"Cynthia." I shake his hand. "Where did you get the juice from? I thought they were just serving alcohol at this party."

"I bribed one of the servers." Robert winks at me.

"Nice," I laugh quietly, sipping the apple juice.

We stand there in comfortable silence for a while, and then I glance at him. "Who’re you hiding from?"

"I was invited as a guest." He sighs. "I’m not fond of such large functions."

"Same here," I murmur. "I’d do anything to be back home in my pajamas."

He grins. "Well, hey, we do have something in common."

It’s very easy talking to him. I see his smile fade a moment later when a group of young women pass by us. One of the women coughs in her hand, snickering. "Look, Frankenstein came."

As she passes by me, I press my heel into the tail end of her dress. A sharp ripping sound has her gasping. I immediately cover my mouth, pretending to look shocked. "Oh, no! Did I do that?"

The girl shoots me a hateful look before rushing off to check the damage.

"That should keep her busy," I murmur, taking another sip.

"Now, that was just mean." Robert laughs. "What if you ended up ripping her entire dress?"

"What a pity," I sigh. "It would have been an excuse to leave."

"What’re you going to do?" He grins at me. "Rip the dress of every woman here when they make a nasty comment about my face?"

"I don’t have that much free time on my hands," I comment. "You could always share the burden."

His laughter is delighted.

Feeling a pair of eyes boring into the side of my face, I look over to my left and see Adam and Tina standing together at a distance. Adam’s hand is on Tina’s lower back as she leans into him.

"They make a nice couple," I murmur, my tone sad.

"Who?" Robert follows my line of sight. "Them? Nah. She’s trying too hard. I don’t see the chemistry."

"They fit well together," I disagree, knowing that while each word out of my mouth is hurting me, if I don’t face reality, I will never overcome it.

"Are you blind?" Robert peers at them. "They mix like oil and water. I don’t see it."

"Well, they’re together, aren’t they?" I demand, annoyed now by this man’s persistence to not let me dwell in my misery. "Do you need to see them kiss to see what I see?"

"Meh." Robert makes a face. "You and I are standing together as well. Doesn’t mean we’re a thing."

"He’s holding her––"

"Like this?" Robert puts his arm around my waist. He doesn’t touch me, but he positions his arm such that it gives off that effect to onlookers.

"Cute," I narrow my gaze, "now step away before I break your foot with my heel."

Grinning, he holds up his hands, stepping away.

"Uh-oh," he murmurs, "I think we upset somebody."

I look over to see who he’s talking about when I catch Adam glowering in our direction. I turn my head away, saying coldly, "Ignore him. Maybe he’s jealous of your tie."

Robert runs his tie through his fingers, an odd smile on his face. "You think? I had the option of one with little snowmen on it, but I was given this instead. I found it whimsical. Would probably lighten up the atmosphere here."

Adam is still glaring daggers at us, and I quickly say, "I need some fresh air. I’m going to head outside."

"The terrace on that side of the room should be fairly empty," Robert points out. "Come on. Some fresh air would be good for me as well. This place is stuffy, and I’m sure someone farted in here."

I snicker, following him out.

To my surprise, the terrace is completely empty, probably because of how cold it is outside. Robert covers me with his jacket, and I feel flustered at the gesture. Like me, he too is flawed. I don’t consider his scar a flaw, but to the eyes of the pack, shifters are meant to have no physical weakness.

"Some of those people in there are vultures." Robert shudders.

"I got a lot of job offers." I smile, feeling a little smug. "I don’t know if they meant it or not, but I might check them out."

"Really?" He sounds surprised. "How many?"

I count in my head. "Eleven. One offered to give me a blood oath to never fire me. I thought that was sweet."

Robert gives me the side-eye. "You have a weird definition of sweet."

I cast him a glance and keep my voice carefully casual. "Are blood oaths and blood debts the same thing?"

He frowns thoughtfully, using his forearms to lean on the railing. "No. I don’t think so. You die gruesome deaths if you break both, but they’re definitely not the same thing."

"What’s the difference?" I ask.

He throws me a look. "Why’re you curious? You’re not considering that job, are you?"

"No." I shrug. "I’ve just never heard of those, so I was curious."

"Hmm, well a blood oath is what the name suggests. You take an oath and seal the deal with your blood. They’re pretty common but usually occur within families. Blood debts are different. They’re a more archaic practice. Like, if someone from my family killed someone from your family, the victim’s family can demand a blood debt. They can ask for the killer to be given to them. It’s like a slavery bond, blood magic. In olden times, these blood debts usually ended with the guilty party brutally murdered in a year or so, after sufficient torture."

"Was it always the killer who was handed over?" I press.

"Well, not always. Say the killer was the head of the family or someone too young. Then another family member would take their place. They would either be killed or married into the victim’s family. Life was not good for the one carrying the blood debt, but it was a thing."

"That sounds harsh," I murmur. "So, there’s no way to break the blood debt?"

"Sure." Robert grins. "If you want your blood to turn to acid and die a slow, agonizing death."

"I meant an escape from the blood debt." I roll my eyes, trying to act natural.

"You mean, without dying or being freed from it?" Robert questions me.

I nod.

He thinks about it, and after a minute, he says, "Well, I remember reading about a case where an old man was let out of the blood debt. His heart stopped for five minutes while he was being tortured. He was resuscitated, and when he woke up, his blood debt was gone. He was a free man. They killed him anyway because they still hadn’t gotten their revenge, but it’s the only recorded case of someone managing to get free from a blood debt."

"You mean there have been others?"

He shrugs. "You hear things, mostly rumors, but always the same story. Heart stops for five minutes and they’re free. Dangerous game to be playing, though. Doesn’t matter. Blood debts are rare now and they’re heavily frowned upon. If someone wants to contract a blood debt, the Alpha of the pack has to decide whether or not to go ahead with it. Especially since blood debts can be carried through generations, it’s even more frowned upon."

"What do you mean?" I ask, alarmed.

"Well," Robert seems to be enjoying himself right now, "if a female who is tied to a blood debt gives birth to a child, the blood debt extends to the child as well. Like I said, inhumane. There’s a reason why it’s so heavily disliked."

My mouth turns dry.

"Well," I manage, looking away from him, "that certainly seems problematic."

"Sure, that’s one way to put it." Robert grins, darkly amused.

“Do you think people try to kill themselves to get out of a blood debt? Or try to stop their heart?”

I watch him take a sip from his drink, and he murmurs, “I wouldn’t say it’s a smart decision, but maybe. Fewer and fewer cases have been registered of blood debts over the last few decades. But trying to stop your heart would be a dangerous thing to do.”

My voice is soft. “One must be desperate to escape that bond then.”

He glances at me, but before he can say anything, we hear a slight commotion from inside. We quickly make our way inside the ballroom.

"Isn’t that your Alpha?" Robert asks as I watch Jonathon get on a podium at the other end of the massive room.

"Yeah," I mutter. "What is he doing?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jonathon begins, "this year’s Gala will be marked by an important announcement. This year, I have decided to announce the next future leader of this pack, the next Alpha to whom I will pass the torch. My younger son, Norman Moore!"

I stare at the scene unfolding before me, slack-jawed.

Has Jonathon finally lost his mind?

There’s a hush that falls over the ballroom, not a single person showing enthusiasm over his declaration. Finally, it’s Watson who speaks up, "This is unacceptable, Jonathon. Adam is already the next Alpha-in-training. He’s the next in line. The oldest son inherits the position. That’s how it’s done."

"Well, just because things were done a certain way years ago," Jonathon argues, "doesn’t mean we have to keep doing them the same way for the rest of time. As your current Alpha, I feel that Norman is better suited for this position than the previous successor."

"Norman?" Another official speaks up in disgust. "You do realize your son is violent, Jonathon? He’s been caught abusing pack females several times. In fact, it’s always been one female in particular."

Without thinking, I grab Robert’s arm, feeling sick to the stomach. "I want to get out of here."

He doesn’t stop and ask, he simply helps me to the entrance of the ballroom.

I can hear the dissent forming amongst the people. Norman has built a reputation for himself, and Jonathon will rip mine to shreds to elevate his son. I can hear my name on his tongue as he says something, and I move faster.

"Surely you’re not going to blame a pack female for the abuse your son has doled out on her, Father?" Adam’s voice has me going still and looking over. His expression is dark as he meets Jonathon’s furious gaze. "Are you trying to send this pack back to medieval times where any domestic violence inside a family is blamed on the woman? I have seen video evidence of Norman attacking your own assistant while she was recovering in the infirmary. In fact, we were both there when I rescued her. My younger brother is violent and unstable, and I cannot allow such a person to stand at the helm of this pack!"

"What video footage?" Jonathon raises a bow, and I know. I know he’s made sure all footage of Norman kicking me and beating me has been dealt with. "If you can find any, I’d be glad to reverse my decision."

"I’m sorry, Jonathon," Watson says severely, "but while you can certainly nominate your successor, the decision is ultimately the pack’s. We have all seen Adam’s efforts and work, but Norman has nothing to show."

"Then you can put the two to a test." Jonathon doesn’t look perturbed, and I don’t like this. "The slums project has been in the works for years. Nobody has ever managed to do anything about the lower part of the city where our community is dwelling rather poorly. Efforts have been made to bring a change, but nothing has been successful. Let the two of them come up with and implement a strategy. This will put every skill these two have to use, and it will help us decide who is the rightful Alpha."

Murmurs pick up in the ballroom, and my fingers dig into Robert’s arm as I realize that the pack officials are actually considering this.

"I think it’s acceptable," one of them finally says.

"I agree."

"Agreed."

The voices of the officials echo in the ballroom, and I release Robert, stumbling out of the room, my breathing harsh.

What is he doing? If Norman wins the approval of the pack officials, then he doesn’t need to acquire Adam’s company.

And for Jonathon to be so confident when it comes to his younger son, something is definitely up.

Before I can so much as form my second thought, something heavy comes smashing down on the back of my head, and as I fall unconscious, the last thing I remember is Norman’s voice, laughing.