He raised his head and looked into her eyes. His eyes were navy blue and filled with endless passion. He said, "You know what? Let's go over to my apartment. It's just a few minutes’ drive from here. I'll hail us a taxi."
"Good. And I'll get us wine while you're at it. I saw another bar by the corner. Don't worry, this one looks safe."
She left him standing in front of the alley on the lookout for a taxi while she made her way to the bar. There she managed to buy the last bottle of champagne and walked back to towards where she had left Nicholas. He was no longer there and there was no taxi in sight.
A quick look around and a peep in the dark alley they were making out in earlier told her Nicholas was no longer there. Disappointment and confusion clouded her thoughts. Taking a look at her watch, she realized it was 11:15 PM. She stood there, holding onto the false hope that he would appear out of the crowd any minute.
It took Beryl till 11:50 PM to realize he was gone and would not come back. Breathing a huge sigh of regret, she called out to a passing taxi. It was already too late to resume her trip to New Constance. She told the driver to take her to the nearest motel.
The next morning, she left the poorly equipped hotel she spent the night in and boarded a bus heading into New Constance. As soon as she passed the welcoming signboard, Beryl realized what the segregation of Constance really meant.
The roads in this part of the city were freshly tarred, the houses bigger and more exotic, the air seemed cleaner as there were a number of decorative plants around the place. Even the people there were different. Most of the people she saw in New Constance wore expensive clothing and drove luxurious cars. The massive difference stunned her.
A car and driver were waiting to pick her up at the bus station and take her to her final destination, the Davenport villa. Only two weeks ago, Beryl received a call from a woman named Sonia Davenport. From what Beryl knew about the Davenports, they were a wealthy family with a lot of influence in Constance and the whole of Massachusetts. Beryl had only been working as a wedding planner for two years, and Sonia Davenport was already proving to be the richest client she had ever had.
The villa was large with various houses, big and small scattered all over the place. There was also an enormous mansion at the center of the villa and it was in the main living room of this mansion that she met Sonia Davenport for the first time.
"I must say, Miss Moore, I do not appreciate last night’s change in plans," Sonia said.
Beryl replied, "I'm sorry for that. I got held up on my way here."
Sonia nodded. From the arrogant and scornful look on the young woman's face, Sonia decided she just might not like her new client much. But that wasn't the only new fact she discovered. From the large bulge in the stomach area of the expensive white dress worn by Sonia, Beryl realized the woman was pregnant.
"Once again, I'm sorry if my absence caused any inconvenience. I acted bearing in mind our meeting was to hold this morning and not last night," Beryl said.
"Doesn't matter. From now on, you arrive when I ask you to - not an hour later."
"Understood, ma'am," Beryl replied. She really wasn't enjoying the first few minutes of her stay at the Davenport villa. And she still had six more days to go. Sonia was a beautiful blonde woman, tall, slim and elegant. However, Beryl could not help but notice that her eyes were bright gold. This rang an alarm bell at the back of her mind, but she assumed they were contacts.
They were seated on couches positioned opposite each other. To break the sudden awkward silence, Beryl said the first thing that came to her mind. "How far along are you?"
If Sonia was surprised by the question, she did not show it. Instead, she smiled broadly and replied, "Five months now. He's a boy. He's going to be the strongest werewolf ever."
"Strongest what?" Beryl asked, not certain she heard the woman correctly.
"Werewolf. My baby's father and I are shifters."
"Oh, okay," Beryl looked away. That was quite a shock. She guessed that explained the strange-looking eyes. She wondered why Sonia never told her she was a shifter or that she was pregnant. It would seem this city was just full of surprises.
"And you are marrying his father?" Beryl asked.
Sonia's smiled broadened. "Yes, I am. He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I love him so much."
Beryl's felt a warmth spread across her heart. "That's beautiful. You two are really lucky to have found each other."
"We really are. I fancy you would meet him soon. He should have been here by now."
And as if on cue, the footsteps of a man approached them. Beryl raised her head to see who it was. His hair was no longer tied in a ponytail but let loose around his shoulders and his eyes were no longer blue but golden in color, yet she recognized him easily. It was Nicholas Archer, the man from the Constance Rave of the previous night. The same man who had saved her from drunken hoodlums and who she made out within a dark alley before he disappeared.
He had a wide smile on his face as he strolled into the living room - a smile that dissolved into a frown the second he set eyes on her.
Sonia said, "Oh, here he is. Good morning, hun. Meet our wedding planner. She finally came in today."
For what would seem like minutes, but could only have been seconds, Nicholas struggled to find his voice. When he did find it, he said, "Hello, ma'am. I'm Nicholas Archer," extending a hand to a stunned Beryl.
Shaking his hand, she said, "I'm Beryl. Beryl Moore."
Chapter 28
Nicholas felt an irresistible urge to punch himself on the nose as he walked up the stairs towards his room. How could he have been so stupid? For years he had kept himself in check and now, on the brink of his marriage to Sonia, he ran the risk of losing everything. That he wasn't already in trouble was because Beryl Moore did not feel the need to let her employer know about the previous night. Throughout their short meeting, they both pretended nothing happened.
"Hello, Nick," a male voice said from the top of the stairs. He looked up to see Kyle Davenport, his fiancée’s younger brother staring down at him with a weird expression on his face. Nicholas' heart sank.
"Good morning, Kyle," he said as he reached the top of the stairs. Kyle was just a few inches shorter than him and standing face-to-face, they looked like two wrestlers sizing each other up.
Kyle said, "Good morning. You look good. After what just happened downstairs, I expected you to look more disturbed."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Kyle."
"Don't play games with me, Nick. I know you sensed my presence last night at the rave," Kyle said and when he realized Nicholas was too tongue-tied to speak, he continued, "That was stupid of you. A few days till your wedding and there you were feeling up your wedding planner in a dark alley."
Nicholas glanced around to ensure no one heard Kyle's words. Last night, he had spotted Kyle in the crowd while hailing a taxi for him and Beryl. Hoping he hadn't been spotted yet, he had to take a taxi home alone and abandon Beryl. Now, it would seem Kyle saw it all.
Nicholas whispered, "I had no idea who she was."
"And that's supposed to make a difference?" Kyle asked.
"That's not what I meant."
"I don't care what you meant. Do you know why I haven't ordered members of my pack to rip you apart?" Kyle said.
Nicholas replied, "Because I'm the only pure-born werecoyote in the whole of Massachusetts and your father needs me to marry his daughter and produce as many hybrid babies as nature would allow?"
Kyle smirked. "No. I let you live because my sister truly cares for you. Your death would destroy her. But mind you, if I so much as see you look at the wedding planner funny, I'll tell my father what I saw last night."
"Kyle if you do that, Beryl is as good as dead. You know what Lord Davenport would do. I know you. You care about human life."
"I care about my family. Especially my sister. This wedding will happen, Nicholas. You don't need anyone to tell you what Lord Dav
enport would do if you jeopardize this marriage."
"No, I don't," Nicholas said quietly.
"Good. So watch your back. I'll see you around, Nick." And with that, Kyle walked away from him and out of sight.
Nicholas sighed. Things were a lot more complicated than he first imagined when he reluctantly agreed to impregnate and marry Lord Davenport's daughter in exchange for the continued safety and well-being of his werecoyote pack. As he walked towards his room, Nicholas thought about how he entered into this mess in the first place.
There had always been very few werecoyotes in the world and the only ones present in the United States were the few in Constance. Werecoyotes were very similar to werewolves, albeit smaller, less intelligent, and meeker. His pack, which consisted of his mother, brother, and a dozen other werecoyotes depended mainly on the werewolf pack led by Davenport for their survival and protection from human hate groups.
Davenport and his werewolves basically ran Old Constance, where most of the shifters were located. To Nicholas, they were more like a cartel than a werewolf pack. His people had to work in their factories, pay large chunks of money, and generally do everything they asked. Even the police exempted themselves from all matters involving Old Constance.
However, the two species had a common link which was the main reason werewolves even put up with the werecoyotes. Should a pure born werewolf and a pure born werecoyote mate in animal form, resulting in an offspring, such a child would possess unlimited power and intelligence. It only happened once in generations. Lord Davenport's great great grandfather had been one of such superior offspring.
Under threat of having his entire werecoyote sub-pack wiped out, Nicholas was forced to shift many times and mate with Sonia in her wolf form until she became pregnant. Now, Lord Davenport was forcing him to marry her.
He had to go through with the marriage. What happened with Beryl the previous night was nothing but a slip-up. He was determined not to let it happen again.
"Are you sure about this?" Beryl asked the person on the other end of the phone.
"Yes. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
Beryl hung up the phone in anger. That was the bakery in charge of making the cakes calling to cancel four days to the wedding. This meant she had to get another bakery to handle the task which could only mean another cake tasting had to be scheduled. She had to meet with Sonia to choose another bakery that would be just as prestigious.
It was mid-afternoon; hence, Sonia would be in the largest hall in the villa located on the west side. Beryl had been given a room in the villa and had been there for two days now. She knew exactly where to go and in three minutes she walked through the doors of the hall.
She met Sonia and Nicholas waltzing on the smooth floor under the guidance of a male dance instructor who at the moment did not seem particularly pleased with the groom's moves.
Beryl stood there watching them, slow ballroom music coming from the speakers. She had no choice but to wait until Sonia was done with the practice before giving her the bad news. Even now, the thought of explaining the turn in events scared her.
However afraid she was of Sonia's wrath, it was nothing compared to how she felt whenever she was around Nicholas. They hadn't spoken since she arrived at the villa which was all well and good. The last thing she needed was Sonia suspecting them. Beryl was ready to avoid him, complete her task here, and return home to her parents and her cat in Long Island.
"You're doing it wrong. Your arms need to be lower, much lower," the instructor was saying to Nicholas.
Nicholas rolled his eyes. Beryl could tell he would rather be anywhere else but there at that moment.
The instructor must have noticed this too, because he turned to me and said, "Hey, you there. Can you lend me a hand?"
Confused and taken by surprise, Beryl replied, "Yes, sure."
The instructor beckoned her to come forward, which she did. He then took her hand and much to her chagrin, placed it in Nicholas'.
"Okay. Now I'll waltz with Miss Davenport while you two watch us and try to emulate our moves. Is that clear?"
Nicholas and Beryl both tried to protest but their words only ended up jumbling with each other. They eventually made no sense. The instructor did not seem to want to hear anything about it.
He said, "Let's begin," and proceeded to begin the first sequence of the dance. Beryl and Nicholas had no choice but to grab hold of each other and follow suit. He was about six inches taller than her so her head was close to his chest as they moved. Despite herself, Beryl could not help but remember that fateful night in Old Constance. She remembered the feel of his body pressed hard against hers. She remembered the way he ground his hard manhood against her crotch as she moaned against the wall. His labored breathing brought her back to her senses. What the hell was she doing!?
When she looked up at him in hopes that he could not sense her arousal, she saw him staring down at her with those beautiful golden eyes. She noticed his hair was back in a ponytail once more. Beryl honestly did not believe she had met a more handsome man. They tried their best to follow the instructor and Sonia's lead, but most of the time they stared into each other's eyes.
When the music ended it was like being brought back to earth from the moon in an instant. The instructor let go of Sonia so she and Nicholas had to pull away from each other. Beryl watched him return to his wife.
The music restarted, and Nicholas took his wife in his arms once more while Beryl watched. She did not understand why the sight caused a sharp pain to pierce through her heart.
The large car pulled up in front of the parking lot of the villa. Nicholas stood waiting outside the mansion for the occupants of the car to walk out of it. Three men got out through the doors and walked towards him.
"There they are!" Nicholas said as he stretched out his arms and hugged each of them. They were Alex Warren, Connor Sanders, and Gabriel Anderson, some of his best friends at the Willock University of Massachusetts.
"Good to see you, man," Alex said. He was a rich and powerful werelion who lived in Rhode Island with his wife and two children. He was also the only pure-born shifter amongst the three guests.
"Is it just me, or did this dude get more handsome over the years," said Connor Sanders, a werewolf who also resided in Rhode Island. The third man was Gabriel Anderson, popularly known by his stage name "Ace." He was a rock star who only recently revealed himself as a weretiger to save the woman who he was now married to.
"Where's Russell?" Nicholas asked.
"He couldn't make it," Alex said. "Still on honeymoon with his new wife. I heard they are in Madagascar now."
Nicholas nodded. He attended his friend's wedding to his former housemaid a few months back. Willock University was more like a safe haven for shifters who wanted to further their education. The school had next to zero tolerance for hate or discrimination against shifters and hence shifters of all kinds could be found in Massachusetts. That was where Nicholas met his four friends and their friendship had lasted after outside of it.
"Come on in for dinner," Nicholas said. They followed him towards the mansion. A thought struck his mind. "Where are your wives?" he asked.
Alex replied. "They are already at the hotel we'll be staying in until the wedding."
Nicholas frowned. "They are lots of guest houses in the villa."
Connor parted him on the back. "Don't sweat it, bro, we'll be fine."
Nicholas sighed. A part of him knew the real reason they did not care to stay in the villa. Most of them met Sonia at Russell's wedding on Walt Island. They obviously could not stand her.
Nicholas was having trouble sleeping. It was two days to the wedding and he believed he finally understood the true definition of pre-wedding jitters. Sonia rolled to her side beside him. He stared at her sleeping face. She was indeed a very beautiful woman - beautiful and elegant.
He guessed many men wouldn't consider getting married to the beautiful daughter of a rich and powerful man a bad d
eal. After all, his family was poor and insignificant. Yet, the thought of being enslaved by the Davenports made him shudder.
Sonia was carrying his child; a boy he had come to love even if he was unborn. He was going to go through with the marriage, and he promised himself that no matter how miserable he became, he would never let anything stop him from being a good father to his son.
Sonia was still fast asleep when he rose from the bed and walked out of the room. Ever since began having trouble sleeping, Nicholas discovered that a midnight walk around the villa helped clear his head.
The first thing he noticed as soon as he stepped out of the front door of the mansion was that the stars appeared to be particularly bright on that night. The second thing he noticed was somebody sitting on the top of the front stairs. Squinting in the darkness, he realized who it was.
"Beryl?" he said as he walked closer.
She turned and looked up at him. "What the hell do you want?" she asked.
"I should be asking you, seeing that this has been my spot for quite some nights."
She shook her head. "Whatever."
Nicholas sighed and took a seat beside her on the step. He said, "I'm not the kind of man you think I am."
"I really don't care. Men like you will always come up with an excuse."
"It's not an excuse."
"Whatever it is, save it for your bride," she said harshly. "I can tell she truly loves you and does not deserve to be cheated on my scumbag of a fiancé."
Anger rose from the pit of Nicholas' stomach. He did not feel there was any need to explain himself to a woman who only saw the world in black and white and was ready to pass judgment in an instant.
He said, "Have a nice night," and rose to his feet. He had only taken two steps towards the house when an overwhelming feeling came over him. Something made him turn around and sit beside her once more.
He said, "I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to shut the hell up until I'm done."
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