Reclaimed - Chapter 4

Ignite

Missed the previous chapter? Read chapter 3 here. Or start from the chapter 1 here.

"The midwife fell silent. Her rose petal cheeks turned white, colder than the snow covering the mountains. Dee knew something was wrong. She heard the cries of her firstborn child. They weren't that of an infant. Not high pitched screams welcoming the first breath of air, but growls. The old woman handed the child to Clarisius, almost tossing it before she ran away. It had wings, not the delicate fae wings, but wings of a bat. Dragonblood.

Dee saw Clarisius for what he was. For the first time. A sworn enemy to her people. And in that moment, when he saw the hate in her eyes, he didn't dare say he did not know."

Melanie sighed. She’d read too many books to not know where this was heading. If only Clarisius would tell her he didn’t know right there. No back and forth with a simple misunderstanding. It would also make for a bad story that would end right there.

---

A beep from her phone and a message from Flora, Are we still on for tonight? had her rush to the bedroom to find the dress she'd already picked out in her mind. It had been ages since she had allowed herself a night out. A night out at a club. Flora's birthday, thirty-three years old. "You have to go out with a bang for the age of Jesus," she had said.

Short black dress, high heels. Red lipstick and a spray of rose vanilla perfume. Melanie looked at herself in the mirror, the image staring back at her making her remember the days of college.

"Don't wait up," she said as a goodbye to Marcus as they passed each other. He ending his day of work, she excited for the fun that Saturday night promised. "You look great," were his words in return.

---

Loud beats resonated in her stomach. The flashing lights were easier to tolerate after Melanie had drunk her second cocktail, wondering if these overpriced drinks were always so sugary. There weren't many words spoken, not with Flora, not with her two other friends. Just moving to the rhythms, occasionally shouting how good the current song was. And sipping drinks.

She saw the two men at the bar watching them. When four drinks were delivered to their table, she remembered just how many free drinks she'd gotten during her college years. Never having to pay, one way or the other. Flora didn't hesitate; she took the glasses, one by one, giving them to each woman, raising her own in a toast to the handsome gentlemen paying.

They took it as an invitation, heading to their table. Now comes the polite yet awkward refusal, Melanie thought to herself. Flora allowing herself to be lost in the crowd on the dance floor with one of the men, and the other settling next to her, caught her off guard.

He shouted his words in her ear, what he'd do to her body. His words were fiery, as if A.D. Mali had penned them herself, plucked straight from the spiciest scene of one of her books. Melanie couldn't lie to herself, his desire, his wanting her. Wanting her body, she was no fool. It made her body react, feel warm. Not for him, the more he inched closer the more she pulled back, tensing. Wanting to escape. Bathroom.

---

Please come pick me up. Pressing send, she hoped Marcus was awake. Moments later, her phone vibrated. Be there in 30. She exhaled in relief.

The bathroom stalls were worn, the walls had seen their share of horrors, many love notes and profane confessions scribbled on them. The cracked mirror above the sink, long due a replacement. The sounds from the dance floor forcing themselves in. But still better. Thirty minutes. No one would bat an eye if she spent fifteen here. A quick goodbye, a headache maybe and soon she'd be home.

The stall behind her opened, the man who was with Flora stepping out, tugging at his belt. Moments later Flora followed. For a moment Flora's face flushed as she met Melanie's gaze in the mirror. A shrug of shoulders the next, with a whisper to Melanie's ear, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"