~Alaya
“You’re lying.”
“Does it look like I’m lying?”
Sky’s eyes drag down my dress deliberately, her hand covering her mouth as if I can’t see the shock. The dress arrived the day after my invitation did, ready to the party tonight. I decided to open up to Sky for advice. There is no way I would be able make the decision on whether to go or not by myself.
I hand the invitation to Sky, and her mouth fell open further. “How? You said you never applied… Did you go to the information centre?”
“Of course,” I say flatly. “This is the third year Sky. The problem is, I can’t remember what happened at any of the parties past a certain point. I’m not even sure how I got back to my bed, if I was even in control of that.”
“Well you have to go to at least find out why-”
“As far as my memory serves, that’s what I did last time, and evidently, it didn’t work,” I cut Sky off.
I’ve been trying to get rid of this curse that has seemed to have settled over my life since the first party. Everytime I try figure out why, something else gets in my way. My boss fired me the day after I came to him for advice about the money. My banker says there is no way to trace who sent me the money, however, something tells me he does know.
But I have evidence. And I doubt I ever will.
“You say this A person has been leaving notes? Take this to the information centre, and show the people there. They can’t ignore the fact that some creepy person has been leaving you little notes. You go there, and you threaten them, and you don’t leave until you talk to someone of higher authorisation,” Sky demands.
“Who would listen?” I growl. “You want me at Asher’s doorstep asking him?”
Sky takes a moment to answer. “He’s the one who holds the party. If anyone can figure who could have the ability to do this, it’s him.”
“He’s the Alpha, Sky, the Alpha. There’s no way I could even get in contact with him, let alone near him. No one has even seen him for years. He stays locked up in his palace on the hill, and I don’t think something like this is going to draw him out,” I remind her.
“Could you please, at least, go to the information centre. I can’t see any other way you’re going to find out who is leaving these notes on the backs to the invitation.
Sky had no idea that this won’t work. But right now, it doesn’t seem like I have another choice.
***
The little bell above the door tinkles as I walk in. Crisp air bites at my skin with familiarity, coming from the conditioner mounted on the wall above the reception area. I’m assuming I will see Miss Bell, having to explain to that irritating woman what I did last time. This time, I won’t leave until something makes sense.
I’m surprised to see Miss Bell isn’t there. Her seat has been taken by a slender man, who props his feet up on the desk, leaning back casually. His hair is a strange inkish blue, however, I immediately pass it off. Dyed hair is a trend hair.
It’s the way he looks at me, that makes me nervous.
His eyes are dark and impassive, watching me attentively. I should have waited in the other line, behind a man who was being served. But that would give this other man, without a name tag, the satisfaction of knowing I was too afraid to be served by him.
So, ignoring the strange smirk on his face, I walked up to the reception desk. “Excuse me sir, I would like some help.”
“Obviously,” he says flatly, sitting up slightly. “This is a help centre.”
I’m not sure how to react. His sardonic tone and unpleasant attitude paired with his smirk is infuriating. Getting irritated at a worker here – who honestly looks like an imposter – isn’t going to get me the answers I have come for.
“I have received an invitation, even though I didn’t apply,” I tell him. His eyes follow my movements, I place the invitation down on the desk in front of him. It’s still dazzling under the light.
“Congratulations,” he says tiresomely.
I slide in the invitation closer to, trying to get him to understand the gravity of this situation. I doubt he wants to be here. This centre is only open for a few days before the party every year, which means this man with strange, cobalt coloured hair has another job and wants to anywhere other than here. But I need this.
“I want to know who invited me, and why,” I say, planting my hands firmly on the desk, trying to insinuate how serious I am about this.
The man sighs irritably. “You went to previous parties.”
“Yes, twice before.”
“Then there’s your answer,” He says, sliding the invitation along his desk with his forefinger. “Someone obviously saw you at the first party, and invited you again. It’s not uncommon for high authoritative figures to get an interest in someone to invite them back again year after year.”
“You know what else isn’t uncommon? Not being able to remember a thing about it,” I growl, considering everyone else who couldn’t recall the night before, even though they claim it’s the most memorable night of your life.
The blue haired man sat forward on his feet, swiping the invitation up in his grasp. I watch him balance it between his fingers nervously, as he holds it up to the light, and begins slowly tearing it.
“Wait!”
He pauses, a slow, feline smile gracing his expression. “What did you say?”
“I said wait,” I repeat hoarsely. My breath has been caught in my throat at the sight of what he is doing. If he tore the invitation fully in half, there’s no way I would have a chance to get in the party again tonight.
“I’ve gathered from your own words that don’t want to go, am I right?”
For some reason, the idea of not being able to go frightened me. The feeling is thick like oil in my veins, exasperating. I wish I could be furious at who wrote the note. I wish i could hate them for the gifts they have sent me, if it truly was them, like I expect. Instead, I’m left with this deep sense of longing… of curiosity.
“Turn it over,” I insist, motioning to the letter. “See what’s on the other side.”
Blue haired man twisted the invitation over, eyes on mine speculatively before he dragged them down the back of the paper. He stared at it for a few moments, before murmuring, “interesting.”
My heart skipped a beat. That was until he turned it over, and showed me the other side. Blank, nothing. The pretty writing and mysterious note was gone.
“Interesting imagination, you have,” the man continues. “What should I be looking at, again?”
I snatch the invitation from his hand, checking almost every inch of it with a precise gaze. The back is smooth and untouched. There is no evidence of foul play. The note has disappeared, making me look crazy to anyone who had witnessed it. Only the blue haired man, who at this point, is standing.
He rounds the table without a word.
Before I had time to think about his actions, he had ahold my my arm, closing an ice cold hand around my skin. No one seems to notice what he is doing, despite them all being in close proximity. The man with no name holds me against the desk, bring him mouth down my ear to whisper in it.
“You should go the party,” he tells me.
“Give me one good reason.”
“Simple. You were invited, and when you are invited to something like this, you go. And something tells me you know who sent you that note. That maybe, if you dig deep enough into your memories, you can figure out how much power the author to your little note may have. He is why you are going to go.”
My body is not the only thing held hostage by him. So is my mind. How he knew what I was thinking is beyond me.
Because he is right. I have been having ideas of who this might be from.
The Alpha of Desire.
***
This time, I have a mission.
I don’t make the mistake of keeping my eyes open as I step out of the car. I use my new found knowledge of high heels, as I place my two feet on the ground, the silken fabric of my dress caresses my legs. It’s golden this time, and I know it captures the attention of the audience. I look like I just stepped outside of a gold mine, ready to dazzle and mesmerise the world.
The walk down the black carpet to the main door is one of confidence. Not many people get invited to this party more than once. I must be a familiar face here.
The woman at the front door, ready to check invitations is flanked by two Guards. She knew I would come, and doesn’t want to be threatened by me again. I don’t so much as touch her, as she finishes her mantra, a nervous edge to her voice.
“Tell Alpha Asher I know his secret,” I tell her confidently. “And I’m coming for him.”