It was a celebration for the New Year tonight and I've gone and ruined it. Turned up at the chateaux without a bottle of wine. I was the rudest guest in the world. Luckily for them, it wasn't a full moon but something triggered off my blood cravings.
At the party, all the ladies and gents were in their finest. I wore a tacky sequinned number from a charity shop. My dyed hair was unbrushed and I whipped it up and stuck grips in place. I was messy putting on my make-up, and my long unmanicured fingernails were also chapped! I covered it up with my baby sister's gold varnish. The feathers in my hair and dress fell out on the way to the party.
Balloons were everywhere. I couldn't find my best friends. It had to be a set up.
Then a bunch of well dressed ladies approached me all smelling of expensive chanel.
"Hello Sally!!!" all three of them said. Their make-up, dresses, nails and shoes were so rich and perfect. I looked like a ragged Cinderella at the ball. And other faces gawped disapprovingly at me. None of the pretty flowery waitress girls offered me a flute of champagne.
It smelled bad in the party. Despite all the glitz and glamour, I could tell some had farted, wet themselves, who was menstruating, in pain, who was hungry and who was drunk. I could smell that all three sarcastic ladies before me were desperate for the bathroom, one of them needed to be sick.
I excused myself and went to a man on his own, handsome and smelling only of pleasant fruits and winter pine air. He was well built, with strong facial features. He had very long black hair, and his eyes were the palest blue. The eyes of a snow hound.
"Are you having a good time?" I smiled and asked him.
He smirked and glanced at the crowd in full swing at the melody of a live jazz band. I could tell he was feeling out of place. I wonder what he was doing here.
"It could be better," he said.
"Oh?" I looked at the players and partygoers. Besides lack of a drink, I was somewhat liking the colourful and happy atmosphere. Perhaps he did not.
"I'm Sally Hunter," I extended my hand. Wished I put my white gloves on now.
He took my hand into his large strong hand and gripped firm. I sensed a deep hotness from him. Oh my! He was like me. A child of the night. A werewolf!
"Hello Sally. It's a pleasure to meet you," he stared into my eyes. He knew I knew what he was. He knew what I was too. "My name is Prince Reginald Gang."
"You're a prince?" I must admit, despite how gorgeous he was, he didn't dress like one. He was more like someone from a Black Metal band.
"Yes," he smiled. "Son of King Ganger Asgard."
When he said that, I realised what else he was. He was the son of the alpha male wolf from Sweden. No one such as yourself would've heard of him but we werewolves know who the alphas are. Fireworks were beginning to go off in the city below.
"Come," the prince alpha took my hand and led me onto the balcony. The night air was very cold but the party was oozing warmth. He wrapped a jacket round me and gave me a glass of sherry. I sipped it and my head swam. He felt so powerful and I was protected by him.
The New Year was announced with a massive cheer, poppers and explosive fireworks. Then he wanted me to look up and look at several people on a higher balcony. Their eyes glowed like fire and I knew instantly they were werewolves. These were seperated from all the party guests downstairs. I sensed a chill in my body and the prince kissed me better.
It was here that I met an alpha werewolf for the first time, close up.
I'm 30 years old, a city girl working for a bank, and I'm also a werewolf and a member of Fenrir's Daughters. If you don't know who the Fenrir's Daughters are, it's a club full of all the werewolf females such as myself. There is a Fenrir's Sons for the male werewolves too. I wonder if the prince werewolf will be in touch with me soon.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
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