Page 38 of Wicked Beasts (Lament Princess #1)

Thirty-Seven

G isella and I navigate through the beer garden, drinks in hand, when he strides toward us, his presence confident and assured.

His greeting is warm, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd with ease.

Without hesitation, he pulls us both into a hug, planting a soft kiss on each of our cheeks.

It’s a customary gesture here among locals, one I was raised with, even if I’ve never quite warmed to being touched by others.

Still, I can’t help but feel the weight of his touch linger on my cheek.

My fingers press against my skin, brushing against the ghost of his lips as I slowly sip my drink.

He introduces himself then, his voice deep and smooth, carrying the weight of experience in every word.

"Ikaika Kahale," he says with a charming smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes yet still holds a warmth that invites curiosity and temptation.

His name is as strong as his voice and presence. “Singer, songwriter, surfer .”

The last part doesn’t surprise me. So many men and women are surfers in Hawai’i.

So many of them love the beach. The ocean is their kingdom, and they’re royalty of the waves.

But something about the way he says it—the casualness, the confidence—suggests he’s more than just another one of them.

It’s something in the way he carries himself, like the ocean’s mysteries have shaped him, perhaps even consumed him.

There goes my imagination. Where was that when I was trying to write?

“South shore waves or north?” I ask, arching an eyebrow, a playful challenge in my tone.

His smile broadens into a grin, pulling into his cheeks as it nearly reaches his eyes.

“North, of course,” he replies, his voice certain, as though the question itself is almost beneath him.

There’s a flicker of amusement in his green eyes, the kind that makes me wonder if he’s a little offended I even had to ask, as if the answer should have been obvious from the start.

“I’m really glad you could make it. I was looking forward to seeing you again. ”

His words hang in the air between us, sweet and genuine, as Gisella giggles beside me.

I quickly raise my cup to my lips, hoping the movement hides the flush creeping up my neck and the smirk trying to surface on my face.

My heart flutters for a moment, caught between the warmth of his smile and the sudden, uncomfortable heat spreading through me.

I try to mask the embarrassment, but it lingers, the scarlet color staining my cheeks.

Before I can allow myself to settle into the moment, before I can let myself savor the attention he seems so eager to offer, other women converge around us.

They latch on to his every word, their laughter high-pitched and eager, their eyes filled with flirtation as they bask in the light of his presence.

I glance at Gisella, who’s watching with a knowing smirk, then roll my eyes in silent resignation.

With a small sigh, I step back from the growing crowd, slipping away from the women who’ve quickly taken my place. I’m not phased, though, or surprised.

“Well, he is the singer,” Gisella says, voicing the thought that’s already running through my head, her gaze lingering on the cluster of women hanging on to every word he says as she casually swirls her beer. “And cute.”

“Not that cute,” I reply, wiping the lingering trace of his kiss from my cheek with the back of my hand. “People always pretend to be different on the surface, don’t they?”

“Honestly, I have zero interest in getting back out there,” Gisella says, her fingers absently tracing the charm on her necklace. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she jabs her elbow into my side.

I flinch and rub the ache growing beneath my rib cage. “ Hey ?—”

She clears her throat dramatically, her gaze flicking toward Ikaika as he approaches, a subtle cue for me to shift my attention.

“Sorry about that,” he says, running a hand through his fluffy brown hair, an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips, as though the attention still catches him off guard. “They always do that.”

“Your little fan club?” I ask, my tone teasing.

His grin shifts, turning darker, more playful. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Hardly,” I reply, forcing a casualness I don't quite feel.

My gaze shifts back toward the crowd of women, now scattered like leaves in the wind.

But then, from the corner of my eye, something halts me—a figure standing at the edge of the crowd, barely noticeable at first. I narrow my eyes, blinking once, twice, wondering if my mind is simply playing tricks on me.

Is that...?

A pulse of recognition hits me, but it’s not the sort of recognition I can easily place.

His presence pulls at me, an invisible force drawing my attention.

His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto mine with a primal desire I can feel deep in my core from across the lot.

They’re sharp, like shards of obsidian, gleaming with a mixture of something sensual and haunting.

Dr. Shadow? The name comes unbidden, a whisper in my mind, but it feels both impossible and inevitable at once.

“Dr. Shadow is here,” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper, as though speaking his name aloud might make him vanish.

Gisella looks up at me, her brows knitting in confusion. She glances around, trying to follow my gaze. “Where?” she asks, her eyes scanning the crowd, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “I don’t see him.”

I nod, my finger trembling slightly as I point to where I saw him standing. “He’s just— there ,” I say, but the space where he stood is now empty, swallowed by the moving sea of people.

My heart skips.

I turn quickly, my eyes darting across the crowd, searching for any sign of him.

The faces around me blur, the laughter and chatter fading into the background as my focus narrows.

But no matter how hard I look, I can’t find him.

The space where he stood now feels eerily vacant, like a shadow never meant to be seen in the first place.

The speakers crackle to life, announcing Ikaika’s name and calling him to the stage. He offers a few kind words as he pulls away, his smile warm but fleeting.

“I am really glad you came,” he says in reassurance, his voice low and sincere. His fingers gently brush against my sleeve before he disappears into the sea of people, cutting a path through the crowd with ease.

I watch him go then reluctantly shift my gaze, scanning the people one last time for that familiar, lecherous face.

The search is fruitless—he’s gone. For a moment, my mind lingers, but then I shake it off.

I don’t have time for this, for distractions.

Tonight is about enjoying myself, about finding some release from the heavy weight of everything else.

Dr. Shadow can’t be allowed to intrude on my thoughts—not tonight. I have to stay present in this moment. I need to have fun for once.