Page 78 of Halfblood Deceived

Sebastian clapped his shoulder. “Noted, now heads up, six o’clock. Man in a blue shirt, and woman in a red dress.”

Zeydan turned his attention to a human male of about thirty-something years old, and a woman who barely seemed of legal age. They were both sitting at a small table on the first floor, near the dance floor.

“What do we win if we guess right?” Zeydan asked.

“Tonight, a century-old bottle of fey cognac,” Kerian announced.

“Oh, it’s on,” Zeydan murmured, sharpening his ears to listen to the human male over the music and multiple other conversations.

“… my business is very successful, of course, but you already know that,” the human said.

The young woman nodded. “We were studying a similar model in my class the other day—”

“Let me tell you something,” the man interrupted, leaning closer to the woman. “I know most females feel almost forced to study a career and get jobs in masculine-dominated fields, but is that what you really want?”

“Oh no, he dropped a ‘females’ on her,” Kerian said.

“And that’s wrong?” Zeydan asked, confused.

“In a way,” Sebastian explained. “We supernaturals aren’t human, so it is grammatically and biologically incorrect to call ourselves or each other men or women. But idiot human males have gotten into the habit of using ‘females’ as a degrading term for women. Along with some other ridiculous terms.”

Zeydan blinked.

Sebastian gave him a sideways glance. “I assume you’re not acquainted with social media.”

“I’m not,” Zeydan confirmed. Evan was in charge of the digital marketing aspect of their businesses, so Zeydan had never seen the use of learning much about social media.

“Better stay like that,” Kerian advised.

Zeydan focused on the woman again.

“What do you mean?” she asked carefully, with the wariness of someone expecting a blow.

The man leaned even closer, trailing a finger up her forearm. She visibly winced. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t need a fancy career or a job,” he continued, undeterred, digging his own metaphorical grave. “What you truly need, and deep down want, is a husband and a family.”

Kerian let out a low, disgusted growl. “Ugh, I can’t even remember how many times Milla has gotten that same bullshit.”

Sebastian groaned.

“He’s definitely not getting laid,” Zeydan said. “If I had ever hinted to Gabby that she didn’t need her PHDs, she would have kicked me in the balls. Repeatedly.”

Sebastian snorted.

Kerian sighed. “Unfortunately, sometimes it’s not that simple. Women, particularly the heterosexual ones, have been taught to settle for or try to change arseholes. To be honest, many females of our species—and every other species really—have been taught that shit, too.”

Zeydan remembered with painful clarity how his mother had been persuaded by her handmaidens to give his father another chance. No matter if he’d left her bruised and bleeding. No matter that it was never her fault he hurt her, she ended up being the culprit for some incomprehensible reason. “If you were kinder to him, mistress,” the handmaidens always insisted.

Zeydan had hated them at first until his mother had shown him it wasn’t their fault, either. The handmaidens had been molded by the court and their mothers, who had also been indoctrinated, and so on. It was a cycle of unending bullshit. Zeydan thought times had changed. But apparently not so much.

He blinked, casting away the dark memories, and focused on the young woman again. “She can do better,” he argued.

Sebastian nodded. “She can. Let’s hope she’s aware of it.”

“I’m twenty-two,” the young woman said, her voice tight with muted fury. “I want my degree, and maybe one day a family, but not for at least another ten years.”

The man shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t wait that long for you.”

Now she was red with anger. “I never asked you to! This is our second date. What’s wrong with you?”

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