Page 22 of Howl for Me (Moonlight Magic Studios #1)

Chapter Twenty

Cassidy

The bathroom lights hum overhead, casting a soft yellow glow over the mirror and the lingering cloud of expensive perfume. I swipe another coat of lip gloss on, but my reflection won’t stop looking guilty. “He sounded really upset,” I murmur, blotting my lips.

Lori, standing beside me in a skintight green dress and glitter-smoked eyes, arches a brow. “Well, if you needed an answer to whether he cares about you, there it is.”

I sigh, capping the gloss and tucking it back into my clutch. “Yeah… I just wish he would’ve asked me. It’s not fair that he assumed I’d be his date.”

Lori shrugs. “Not only is he a man, but he's a werewolf. I mean, I don’t think communication is his strong suit,”

I glance at her in the mirror. “I just hope he shows up. He can’t mess this up.”

“Oh, he’s going to show up,” she mutters, voice dry. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Johnny’s a damn loose cannon.”

I shake my head. “He won’t hurt anyone. Especially not me.”

She gives me a look. The kind that says girl, don’t be na?ve but also I hope you’re right.

I turn to face her fully, running my hands down my dress. “When he shows up, I’ll talk to him. If he feels that strongly, he should’ve told me. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Maybe he was nervous,” she says with a shrug. “He’s not exactly the dating type. I think this is all very new to him.”

I laugh. “Yeah, well, I doubt that’s the case. It’s hard to believe he likes me like that. He can literally have anyone.”

Lori pauses, eyes narrowing like she’s connecting puzzle pieces. “You better hope you’re not his mate or something.”

I frown. “Wait… he mentioned that before. He was drunk and said I was his mate. I thought it was just… drunk rambling,”

Lori goes still. Her eyes go wide. “Oh. Shit.”

“What?”

“If you are, Cass, you better be ready. They take that stuff seriously. It’s a fate thing. Bonding. Pack instincts. Blood-level obsession.”

My stomach turns over, but not in a bad way. Butterflies. Stupid little traitors.

“That’s kind of… sweet,” I say, cheeks warm. “But I think you’re wrong.”

She gives me a look like, am I?

I shift on my heels and smile. “Although… I wouldn’t totally be against him showing up and sweeping me off my feet. Hugo has been so…different. He was not this handsy the other day. He’s barely looked me in the eye all night.”

Lori snorts. “Yeah, I saw. When you two walked in ahead of us, his hand was practically on your ass.”

“I plan on ditching him the minute we get to the party.”

“You just say the word,” she says, cracking her knuckles, “and I’ll roundhouse his pervy ass.”

I giggle, but inside… something’s shifting. Johnny called me his mate. Was he just really drunk, or does he really feel that way? And now, I kind of want him to come for me.

We step out of the bathroom and head back to the table.

Hugo grins when he sees us, spreading his arms across the booth like he owns it, like he owns me.

“Took you ladies a while,” he says, voice syrupy but sour underneath.

His hand slides onto my thigh. “Y’all aren’t having party favors without us, right? ”

I cringe, scooting an inch away under the table. “No,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “I don’t do party favors.”

He chuckles, all teeth. “Oh yeah, right.”

The check arrives like divine intervention. Hugo leans toward Kent and whispers something. Kent sighs, loud and annoyed, and pulls out his card. “Yeah, I got you,” he mutters.

I pretend not to notice. I pretend I don’t see that Kent pays for all of it. My stomach sours. I thought Hugo was different. Quieter. Sweet, even.

But this? This man next to me now? He feels like a stranger with the same face.

The car ride’s worse. He keeps trying to touch me, my arm, my thigh, brushing hair off my shoulder like he has some kind of claim on me now. I smile, tight-lipped and cold. It’s the only armor I have left. He doesn’t get the hint.

When we finally pull up to the party, I exhale, like I’ve been holding my breath the whole way.

Music thumps through the house, lights flickering from the second-floor windows.

People are already spilling onto the lawn with champagne flutes.

Inside, it’s packed with bodies and perfume and noise, but not the one body I’m hoping for.

I scan the crowd, searching for that dark mop of hair, that coiled frustration barely hidden, but Johnny’s not here.

Not yet. Gods, I hope he doesn’t bail out on this.

Hugo puts his hand on my back again and guides me in like I’m an accessory, not a person. He leans down, mouth close to my ear. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

I don’t answer. I’m too busy willing Johnny to show up. My chest’s all twisted. That fight earlier wasn’t how I wanted the conversation to go. If he has feelings for me… I need to know and I need him to know mine.

“Cass,” Hugo says again, pulling me into his side like I’m not mentally screaming to be anywhere but here.

I look toward the door. And there he is. Johnny Howler walks in like a storm, hair slicked back, jaw set, looking so handsome. And on his arm?

Naomi. She looks stunning in an orange dress; her smile lazy and sharp as she scans the room.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, but his eyes find me almost instantly and stay there.

Something crashes into my chest, relief, jealousy, heat, hope.

But then Naomi tugs him a little closer and smiles like a cat who just ate a canary.

My stomach drops. Is he here for me… or with her?

I wave, like an idiot. His whole face shifts, eyes locked on mine, jaw clenched like he’s two seconds from bulldozing through the room just to get to me.

My breath catches. He’s coming. But then Naomi tugs his face toward her, all smiles and glossy lips, whispering something in his ear like they’re the stars of some private party I’m not invited to.

I see the flicker of tension in his shoulders smooth out.

He doesn’t look at me again. Instead, he follows her to the bar like the obedient little date she’s dressed him up to be. So much for all this mate bullshit.

I swallow the sting, blink too hard, and pretend my vision isn’t blurry.

That wasn’t fate. That was a man who didn’t like being told no.

That was a spoiled puppy throwing a tantrum because someone finally had the guts to stand their ground.

Well, I’m not about to sit here and have a miserable night over a man who can’t handle saying what he wants.

What if he would have said he wanted me?

What could I really do with knowing that?

We can’t be together. Hector would never stand for that. Maybe it’s better this way.

Lori sees it all unfold. She narrows her eyes at Johnny like she’s ready to commit a felony. “Oh, hell no.”

She’s about to stomp across the room like a glittering hurricane in heels, but I grab her wrist. “No,” I say, forcing a smile. “He can’t get into trouble here. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she snaps, her voice low and sharp. “Cass, you’ve been beating yourself up all night because you thought you hurt him. And he has the nerve, the actual nerve, to walk in here with Naomi and pretend you don’t exist?”

My throat feels tight. “I know.”

“No. You don’t. Because if you did, you’d be marching over there and telling him exactly how you feel before Naomi plants one on him just to prove a point.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “He wouldn’t let her. Not if I meant anything. Plus, it’s better this way, Lori, really.”

Lori softens, her hand covering mine. The rest of the night drags like a nightmare in slow motion.

Hugo’s glued to my side, his arm slung around me like I’m some prize he’s showing off.

I smile when he looks down, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.

My skin crawls every time he touches me, but I play along, just enough because if Johnny is watching, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.

I don’t look at him. Not once. I refuse. Even when my entire body hums with the ache of wanting to. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I mutter, slipping out of Hugo’s too-tight grip.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I just need to breathe.

I move fast, heels clicking across the marble, pushing past partygoers and warm bodies and the low thrum of bass that’s suddenly too loud.

The hallway is dim and cold, and the powder room glows like a polished jewel at the end of it.

I duck inside, lock the door, and lean over the sink.

The water runs too loud as I splash my face. My hands are shaking. That’s when the door opens behind me. Hugo slips in, quiet as smoke, and shuts the door behind him like it’s nothing.

“What are you doing?” I snap, spinning to face him.

He smiles. That same smug, practiced smirk he’s worn all night. “Come on,” he says, voice too soft. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting all night.”

I step back automatically, heart slamming. “You need to leave.”

“You’re just nervous.” He shrugs, taking another step toward me. “I get it.”

I reach behind me and hit the edge of the vanity. No more room to move. “I said, get out.”

But he doesn’t listen. He lunges, and then he’s on me. Fast and greedy; hands everywhere. I shove at his chest, but he’s stronger and heavier. I dig into my clutch, my fingers scrambling until I find the pepper spray.

I aim, and this time, I remember to point it the right way.

I spray him full in the face. He screams, stumbling back, clawing at his eyes, coughing and cursing through the burn.

Swinging wildly, his fist cracks against my mouth with a sickening thud.

My head whips sideways. I taste blood before I feel the pain.

My body slams into the vanity, ribs catching the corner hard. Stars explode behind my eyes.

Then the door crashes open.

And Johnny is there; his claws are out, eyes glowing the way they do when he’s on the edge of losing it.

He grabs Hugo by the collar and throws him like a rag doll into the hallway wall.

A framed painting shatters to the floor.

Hugo’s groan barely has time to escape before Johnny is on him again, fists pounding, claws raking, snarling like something ancient.

; something feral. The hallway erupts in shouting.

Security rushes in, trying to pull Johnny off, but it takes all three of them.

Hugo’s face is a wreck, shirt shredded, blood smeared down his cheek.

Johnny lets them drag him back but his eyes never leave me.

“Cass,” he calls over the chaos, voice raw. “Cassidy, baby, are you okay? Look at me, are you okay?”

I nod. My hands won’t stop shaking. I reach up and touch my mouth, come away with blood. The sharp tang of iron blooms across my tongue.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, but he’s already being hauled toward the door, still thrashing, still trying to get back to me. Lori’s wide-eyed face comes into view. She looks around taking in the scene like a war zone. She wraps an arm around me and glares at Hugo writhing on the ground.

“I knew I should’ve roundhouse kicked that pervy little freak.”