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"Gotta be hot boys here," she declares. "I'm off to get me some grade-A dick!" Then she spins away, leaving me sputtering.

I roll my eyes, giggling at her brazenness. But I can't relax, even as people mingle and dance around me.

Because Azrael Blackwood approaches with his plastic smile and skin-crawling presence, his reputation makes me cautious.

"Good evening," he purrs. "That gown is exquisite on you. May I have your name?"

I force a polite smile. "Thank you, Mr. Blackwood. The ball is splendid. Dr. Danica Pierce."

His eyes lock onto mine uncomfortably. "Indeed. But you stand out. Something about you captivates me, Dr. Pierce. I'm quite drawn to you."

Eww, gross.

I step back warily. "I appreciate the compliment, but I'm here with my friend." I try redirecting to his successful company and fundraiser.

He smiles knowingly. "But I can't take my eyes off you. Your fragrance is exquisite, unlike anything I've encountered." Oh, god. Can he smell the supernatural part of me?

Another step back from him. "I'm flattered," I say tightly, looking to escape this creeper.

He grasps my hand before I can flee. "Don't rush off. I'd love to get to know you better. You intrigue me. I've heard so much about your scientific breakthroughs. I would love to hear more."

I withdraw my hand quickly, skin crawling. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Blackwood, but I'm here to enjoy the ball. No shop talk."

He smirks, amused by my rejection. "The offer stands, should you change your mind."

I fucking doubt it, I think as he saunters off. Taking a steadying breath, I search for Emily, unsettled by Blackwood's attempted overtures. I need to steer clear of him and his manipulations.

Before I can find her, another creep catches my eye—an imposing figure with an ominous mask, undressing me with his stare. My stomach turns as he approaches arrogantly.

Jesus Christ, can't a girl get five minutes of peace? All these handsy bloodsuckers are fully aware of whatever's different in me now, making me vulnerable.

"You're stunning," he says, smiling wickedly.

I force a tight smile. "Thanks."

As he moves closer, I shift away nervously. "Would you like to dance?" he asks insistently.

I quickly shake my head. "No, thank you. I just got here..." I gesture lamely at my drink, desperate for space.

He leers predatorily, devouring me with his eyes. I feel exposed under his invasive gaze.

"Here all by yourself?" he asks in that sickly-sweet voice.

Before I can respond, a familiar hot breath grazes my neck, and a hard body stands firm behind me—Rhyland. I'm simultaneously relieved yet tense.

Rhyland's arms wrap around my waist possessively, "She's taken," he states coldly, eyes daring the other man to challenge him. I want to melt. His scent overrides my thoughts.

The creep raises his hands in mock surrender. "My mistake," he says smoothly before disappearing into the crowd.

I step away from Rhyland's hold, glaring at him. "I don't need a babysitter."

He moves closer, backing me against a pillar. "You clearly do, Angel. This place is filled with wolves looking to take a bite."

His protectiveness infuriates me. "I can handle myself just fine, thanks."

Rhyland grips my chin firmly. "Can you? Blackwood and that wolf were both ready to make you a midnight snack." His eyes, his beautiful ocean-blue eyes. I swallow hard, seeing them for the first time.

I jerk away angrily. "Stop monitoring me! I'm not some damsel in distress."