Page 17 of The Library

It’s the night of the Halloween party, and I’m standing in front of the mirror in Anna’s room, adjusting my dress for what feels like the hundredth time. She lives in the apartment across from me, so I just went over there since she had my costume all planned out. The short black fabric hugs my curves a little too well, and the push-up bra she insisted I wear has my boobs practically spilling out. I tug at the hem of the dress, trying to pull it down, but there’s no use. It’s as long as it gets, and tonight I’m supposed to be sexy, dark, and dangerous. Or so Anna says.

“Stop fidgeting,” Anna scolds, coming up behind me andhanding me a blood-red lipstick. “You look fucking amazing, Lily. I swear, if you don’t get laid tonight, there’s something wrong with the men at this party.”

I roll my eyes but take the lipstick anyway. Anna’s already dressed and ready, wearing a barely-there costume that looks like a sexy demon, complete with an upside-down cross necklace that matches mine. Her makeup is flawless—deep red lips, smoky eyes, and a confidence that radiates off her in waves. She was born for nights like this.

“I don’t need to get laid,” I mumble, applying the lipstick carefully. “I just need to get out of my own head for a little while.”

Anna smirks, leaning against the door frame. “Right. Because stressing about school is really what’s been on your mind lately.” She arches an eyebrow, giving me that look, the one that says she knows I’m lying. “Is it that guy again? The one from the bookstore? You never finished telling me about him, you know. Maybe tonight’s the night you finally run into him.”

My heart skips a beat at the mention of him, but I shake my head quickly. “No, it’s not… I don’t even know his full name. And besides, it’s just… nothing.”

Anna raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but she lets it go. “Whatever you say. But if you do see him, you better tell me all about it. He sounds hot as hell.”

“Yeah, well, he’s… something,” I mutter under my breath, turning away from the mirror. The truth is, I can’t stop thinking about him, even though I know I should. There’s something about the way he looked at me, the way he seemed to know me without saying a word. It’s unsettling, and yet… it thrills me in a way I can’t explain.

“All done?” Anna asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I nod, smoothing down the dress one last time. “Yeah, I guess.”

She grins and hands me a little blood bag filled with alcohol. “Here. This will help loosen you up. Drink it fast before we get there, or you’ll never stop overthinking.”

I laugh, accepting the bag and chugging it. The alcohol burns as it goes down, but it’s oddly sweet, like fake blood with a kick. “What is this?”

Anna winks. “Vampire blood, of course.”

* * *

By the time we arrive at the party, the house is packed with people in costumes. The music is loud, “I Put A Spell On You” by Austin Giorgio playing—bass thumping through the walls—and the entire place is lit with dark, moody lights. It’s the perfect setting for a Halloween party, and I can already feel the alcohol working its magic, making me a little less tense, a little more ready to let go.

We weave through the crowd, and I spot Derek near the bar. He waves us over, and before I know it, I have another drink in my hand, courtesy of him. He’s been trying to get with me for years, but it’s always been a firm “just friends” for me. Still, he’s harmless, and I don’t think too much of it as I take a sip.

After a few much-needed drinks, the party blurs into a haze of music, lights, and laughter. At some point, Anna drags me to the dance floor, and we start moving to the beat, her hips swaying as she laughs and spins around me. I let myself get lost in the moment, the music pounding through my veins. “If You Think I’m Pretty” by Artemas blasts through the speakers, and I can’t help but smile as Anna shouts the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

But then, something cold and sticky hits me, splattering across my chest and down the front of my dress. I stop mid-movement, looking down to see red liquid—fake blood from one of the alcohol bags—covering me.

“Shit!” I shout, laughing despite myself as Anna gasps. “What the fuck!?”

Before I can react further, I feel a presence behind me. Strong, dark, and all too familiar. I turn slowly, my heart racing as I meet the eyes I’ve been thinking about for days.

Sebastian.

He’s here.

My heart skips a beat as I lock eyes with him. Everything around me—the music, the crowd, even Anna—fades into the background. All I can focus on is him, standing there, his gaze fixed on me like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.

Sebastian

Ty is my best friend since the day I was born, and the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother—we don’t share blood, but we’re just as close. Our fathers, best friends since they were kids and now the leaders of the Society, shaped us into the men we are today. Ty is the one who suggested we come to this party, and I couldn’t resist, especially with the chance to see Lilith again. I know she’ll be here with Anna.

Both Ty and I are dressed in black from head to toe—black jeans, black tees, and our boots, worn from years of use. The masks we wear add a layer of detachment from the world, perfect for tonight. I wear a full-face mask, a ghost of death splattered with blood, while Ty has a solid black mask with Xs over the eyes and stitches across the mouth. We move through the crowd like shadows, blending into the chaos.

I search the room, my body already tuned to hers. She looks stunning tonight—dark, dangerous, every inch of her dripping with temptation in that black dress clinging to her curves. She’s a vision of darkness, and the blood-red lipstick she wears only adds to the fantasy playing out in my head. Every move, every breath she takes feels like a deliberate taunt, and I can’t stop myself from watching her. My eyes are glued to her as if she’s the only thing that matters in the room. In my world, she is.

Then I see it—the upside-down cross hanging around her neck. It glints in the low light, the perfect, ironic symbol restingbetween her perfect tits. A smirk pulls at my lips as I take it in. The blasphemy, the rebellion, it’s all too fitting. There’s something perversely beautiful about the way that cross dangles there, right over her heart, as if she’s offering herself up for sin.

I imagine my mouth there, my teeth grazing the chain as I fuck her hard enough to make her forget everything holy. The irony isn’t lost on me—her wearing that symbol, while I’m the one who’ll tear her apart, body and soul. She may not be ready to admit it yet, but that necklace? It’s a sign, a promise of the filthy things to come.

But I’m not the only one watching her. I see the way other men eye her, the hunger in their gazes as they try to find an opportunity to get close. It pisses me off more than I want to admit. My fists clench, trying to control the possessiveness rising inside me. The thought of anyone else touching her is enough to drive me mad, but I force myself to stay calm. I can’t lose control. Not yet.

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