ARTEMIS POV
"Artemis, where are you going?" Jasper's voice calls out to me, but I ignore him.
All I want is to escape this rowdiness, to find solitude far away from Sera and her all-too-perfect moment with fucking Lucian.
I push my way through the crowd, heading toward an old shack in the distance.
How dare she? After everything I've done for her, she chooses to hang out with that jerk? Laugh with him?
She's never laughed like that with me. Never twirled her hair around her finger while I talked to her, never looked at me with eyes that twinkled quite so brightly.
With each thought, my chest tightens further, the knot of emotions becoming almost unbearable. My wolf dies a little by the second, stabbed down with a dreadful feeling.
"Artemis?" A new voice pierces through my storm, pulling me out of my misery.
I look up.
"Zoya?" I say, hoping I've remembered her name correctly.
The wide smile she gives me right before engulfing me in a hug lets me know I was spot on.
She's the first girl I ever got entangled with since starting high school. Our relationship was on and off, mainly thanks to Kamila constantly trying to cut her out.
We've had sex a few times, and Zoya moved like a seductress, built solely for maneuvering the hearts of boys around the school. She was a siren with the curves of a she-devil.
The allure was always there, a magnetic pull I couldn't resist, though it was mostly about the physical connection-a connection almost as potent as what I had with Kamila.
Zoya was also the catalyst for a near-breakup between Kamila and me last year.
"Artemis, I've missed you so much," she says, pulling away to look me in the face.
I immediately remember eyes-a celestial blend of green and brown-and her jet-black, pixie-cut hair contrasts strikingly with her pale skin.
These are features that have always had a way of reeling me in every single time.
Sure, she's beautiful, but not in the same league as my mate.
However, her aura-now that's a different story. It's so enchanting that even Jasper and Ace fought over her once.
But as Zoya always claimed, she only had eyes for men who matched her elevated status, which meant her eyes were set solely on me.
I raise an eyebrow at her words and take a step back.
"Missed me?" We had our fun once in a while, but it was never anything emotional.
"Haha, funny, Artemis," she giggles, taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around me. "Acting like you didn't know I had to leave school for five months. Your mate kept trying to get me out of the picture, and I finally won the battle to get back to you."
"Right..." I genuinely didn't know that; I've been too busy with other priorities.
"Anyway, you don't have to say it. I know you missed me too. Where is she, your mate?"
For the first time tonight, I think about Kamila.
Since the attack, communication between us has been sparse. She's cooped up in her dorm room, making the most of the week off the school gave her. I can understand why she's keeping her distance. I think we both need the breather.
I gently slide Zoya's arms from around my neck, creating some space between us.
The last thing I need is to be around someone as loud as Zoya while thoughts of Sera with that bastard are driving me crazy.
"Judging by your silence, I'm guessing she isn't here," Zoya concludes.
"I'm not in the mood for a reunion, Zoya. Enjoy the party and go home when you're done," I say, my voice ice-cold.
She frowns at my blatant dismissal, but I don't care.
I turn to leave, suddenly feeling like I'm the last person anyone wants here. Before I can take another step, she pulls me back, aiming for my lips.
Caught off guard, I yank away. "What is the meaning of this?"
"You looked tense. I don't know who's responsible, but I want to help-for old times' sake."
"Your help isn't needed today, Zoya. Or any day in the foreseeable future," I snap, already feeling dizzy.
Jasper's last concoction must be kicking in; my world starts to tilt, a sensation I rarely experience from alcohol. I stagger back, blinking my eyes to refocus.
As I regain my balance, Zoya's lips turn up. She approaches more gently this time, pressing her soft curves against me.
"Let me help you, Arty. Please," she says, giving me those puppy-dog eyes that used to work on me.
Why shouldn't I? Why do I keep holding myself back from going down this lane? It has never mattered before, so why should I start to care now?
Like Ace and Jasper said, I deserve some fun, too.
After all the stress, all the expectations, and all the watching as that bastard Lucian takes the glory while Sera looks at him like he's her savior, the only guy in the room-it's about damn time I thought of myself.
This time, when she goes on her tiptoes to press her lips against mine, I don't resist.
For this brief moment, I let go of being the perfect Alpha's son, of needing to be good enough in Sera's eyes, and of fighting what I really am - an unrepentant asshole. Heartless. Selfish. Brutally sadistic.
Zoya's lips are soft, just as I remember, and she doesn't hesitate.
Her tongue pushes for entrance, and I oblige, my hands finding their way to her hips as I push back. Once upon a time, I'd lose myself in the pure, unthinking pleasure of moments like this.
But now, each press of her lips only deepens an emerging sense of disgust, an unsettling void that grows with every stroke.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks: I hate this.
I hate how empty this feels, how utterly void of any real connection. I should be relishing this-Zoya, after all, is a catch by any standard. A trophy countless others would die for.
Desperate to reignite what used to be between us, I pull her closer, lifting her up so her legs wrap around my waist.
She giggles, but the spark just isn't there. It's as if I'm merely going through the motions, licking spit off her face, while my body remains unresponsive.
And then I feel it.
Sera.
A tingling at the back of my mind, an acute awareness of her heartbeat, the steady rhythm growing ever closer.
One voice inside screams for me to break away, to avoid the impending disaster. Yet another voice, that darker part of me, whispers something else entirely.
And in that moment, I decide to listen to that voice.
I continue kissing Zoya, recklessly so. I want Sera to see. I want her to know that her opinions, her choices, mean as little to me as I seem to mean to her right now.
I'm hell-bent on proving-to her and myself-that Sera's a non-factor, that I'm not dying to taste her lips or see her smile shine just for me. That nothing about her interaction with Lucian fazes me. That she's too insignificant to warrant a change in my reckless ways.
But the second she glides into my view, I'm sucker-punched by the brutal truth: It's a damnable lie, born from a raw desperation to pretend none of this stings like hell.
The sound of her gasp-a twisted harmony of pain and shock-reaches my ears. Her heartbeat rockets and she bolts, disappearing into the sea of bodies.
It's like I've been slapped right into reality, and the word 'asshole' dances over my head.
I yank myself away from Zoya, as if burnt by her touch, shoving her aside like discarded baggage.
I swipe at my lips, desperate to erase her scent, her taste, her very existence. My wolf churns within me, repulsed, clawing to expel the alcohol clouding our senses.
"Artemis!" Zoya's voice lashes out, edged with irritation.
"Shut the fuck up, Zoya!" The words explode, carrying the weight of my guilt and irritation. She recoils, her face held in shock.
Fury courses through me-self-directed, explosive. How did I let it come to this?
"Fuck!" I roar to the universe before stalking off, Zoya's protests fading into nothingness.
I bulldoze through the crowd, every fiber in me hell-bent on finding Sera. But she's a ghost, vanished. My senses are dulled by the alcohol.
"Sera!" I shout, a fruitless cry in the wind.
She won't answer. Why would she?
"Artemis!"
Whirling around, I'm met not by Sera's eyes but by Jasper's annoying grin. My blood ignites. I snatch him by the collar, pulling him so close he can feel the heat of my rage.
"You." My voice is a low, dangerous growl. "What the hell did you spike those drinks with?"
He crumbles, eyes darting. "You said you wanted to get fucked up, so that's what I did."
The growl in my chest dies down, and my grip loosens. Blaming Jasper now won't solve anything.
"I need to find Sera," I mutter, scanning the restless crowd yet again.
His eyes narrow. "Why? What's so urgent?"
"She's alone, Jasper - without me, or Ace, or anyone else. Morgan is very much alive, and out there too." The name hangs heavy between us like a dark omen.
"Shit," he mutters, finally grasping the gravity of it all, and I'm hit again by the weight of my own stupidity.
I exposed her to my lowest self.
I made her vulnerable, pushed her into the sea of strangers. A momentary lapse in judgement, a petty need to prove a twisted point, and here we are-Sera is somewhere out there, unprotected.
As I scan the swarm of faces, my chest tightens with a growing feeling of dread that threatens to consume me. My palms are slick with a nervous sweat, my heartbeat erratic.
A heavy, ominous wave crashes through me, a certain foreboding that rattles my wolf and tears down every last bit of my composure. Of my sanity.
I have a bad feeling about this.