Chapter 4

• A hand brushed my shoulder. I jolted, the book tumbling from my grip. My heart thundered as I whirled, finding Dennis behind me. His smirk widened at my reaction, a low laugh spilling from his lips.
• “Don’t do that,” I snapped, pressing a hand to my chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”
• “Obviously,” he said with smug ease.
• He bent, retrieving the fallen book, and his eyes flicked down to the page before lifting back to me, sharp and knowing.
• “Planning on killing me already?” he asked, holding the book open to the passage.
• I couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing me. Either way, my answer came fast. “No! I was just reading.”
• “Yeah—reading how to kill a vampire. Very inconspicuous.”
• “No, I wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t…” My words faltered uselessly.
• The silence between us grew stiff until I shifted topics desperately. “So… are you coming to the party?”
• “Might as well. It’s not like there’s anything else to do,” he muttered.
• A faint smile tugged at my lips despite his bitterness.
• We made our way downstairs together. The air was filled with the hum of voices and laughter as more guests arrived. Music drifted faintly through the chandeliers’ glow.
• I found myself cornered by Andrew—a family-approved “eligible bachelor.” He leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes betraying the fact that he was as bored as I was.
• “Excuse me for a moment, Andrew,” I said, slipping away as gracefully as possible.
• He smiled and nodded, as though this were some courtly arrangement instead of suffocating small talk.
• I made my way over to Dennis, who had stationed himself in the shadows along the far wall. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. I leaned beside him, mirroring his posture.
• “Having fun?” I asked, though the answer was obvious.
• “Oh, I’m having a blast,” he deadpanned.
• “Your sarcasm is out of hand,” I teased.
• “Is it?” He turned his gaze toward me, and the sharp glint in his green eyes almost made me laugh despite myself.
• “There it is again,” I said softly.
• The music from the ballroom drifted through the wide double doors, violins and piano weaving together into something elegant, almost haunting. My parents had spared no expense on the celebration. Guests twirled gracefully beneath chandeliers, laughter mingled with the notes, and everything shimmered with opulence. But the only thing weighing on my mind was the man standing silently beside me—Dennis.
• He looked every bit as uncomfortable as I had expected. Arms crossed tightly over his chest, posture stiff, those sharp harlequin-green eyes scanning the crowd as though searching for an escape route. He didn’t belong here, not in the glittering world of gowns and polished shoes. And, if I was honest, neither did I—not when my every move tonight felt scrutinized.
• My best friend Cynthia broke through the hum of the party like a spark of light. She came up to me with that radiant smile of hers, her grey-blue eyes warm and curious.
• “Hey, Clara,” she greeted brightly, her gaze sweeping over me. “You look gorgeous.”
• “Thanks,” I replied, smiling. I glanced at Dennis, realizing I hadn’t yet made the effort. “Cynthia, this is Dennis.”
• Cynthia tilted her head and smiled softly at him. “Hi.”
• Dennis gave the faintest nod. No smile, no words. Just cool indifference.
• Cynthia’s smile faltered, the air shifting between us. “Is he a…?” She left the word dangling, but I caught it immediately.
• “Vampire?” I finished, my tone carrying a faint, ironic lilt.
• Her eyes widened slightly, and she nodded.
• “Yup.”
• “Oh. So your parents made you—?”
• “Yeah.” I didn’t need her to finish; I knew exactly what she was implying. My parents’ influence reached everywhere, even into my friendships.
• Before the silence could grow heavier, one of the boys from school approached and asked Cynthia to dance. She glanced at me, hesitant, then accepted with a graceful smile and disappeared onto the dance floor with him.
• Left alone with Dennis, I stole a look at him. He stood like a statue, arms folded, expression unreadable. If he noticed my glance, he gave no sign.
• “Do you wanna dance?” I asked, more to break the silence than anything else.
• His eyes snapped to mine, surprised. “…No.” He said it slowly, as if the idea itself was absurd.
• “Okay, so we’ll just stand here then,” I muttered under my breath.
• Minutes ticked by. The silence between us stretched, tense and unyielding. At last, I tried again. “Alright. How about a deal? If you dance with me, we’ll leave after. Just one dance.”
• He studied me for a long moment, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing as though searching for hidden motives. Finally, he exhaled sharply. “One dance.”
• “Deal.” Relief flickered through me.
• I slipped my hand into his, pulling him gently toward the dance floor. The music slowed, a graceful melody filling the room as violins soared above the soft piano. Dennis stood stiffly, utterly lost in the motions, so I guided him, taking his hands and placing them on my waist.
• It was awkward at first, his movements jerky, but then the rhythm seemed to catch. For a fleeting moment, we actually looked like we belonged on that polished floor.
• Across the room, my mother watched us from her table. She smiled, pleased, and I returned it dutifully. When I looked back, my gaze locked on Dennis’s eyes—green, piercing, startling in their intensity. Harlequin, like fractured gemstones. Striking, yet full of a hostility that ran bone-deep.
• I forced a lighter tone, clutching his shoulders gently. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you—you’re coming to school with me.”
• His expression twisted in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. School?”
• “Yeah. My dad wants you there. Says he doesn’t want me alone.” I shrugged. “Apparently schools are very dangerous places.”
• “Actually, they are,” Dennis retorted cynically. “Considering the number of shootings every year.”
• I blinked, caught off guard. “You’ve been watching the news?”