Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters, #1)(46)

“THE MASTER HAS REQUESTED that you join him for dinner tonight,” Gaster said, smiling up at me as I swept between a row of books. At least I had been sweeping until that statement, and then the broom clattered toward the floor.

Inky, my constant companion, caught it before it hit the floor. “Thanks, dude,” I said with a smile, and Inky swelled to its larger size, jiggling as it went.

I’d been spending a lot of quality time with a smoke blob lately and was starting to think of Inky as a friend. Something I was in short supply of here.

Turning away, I forced a smile on my face “Why does he want me to go to dinner?” I asked Gaster.

He looked taken aback. “Mera, it’s a great honor to dine with the master. You should be excited.”

I shook my head. “And yet I’m not. Can I call in sick? It’s that time of the month, you know?”

In shifter talk, that time of the month could mean a full moon shift or I was about to shed the lining of my uterus. Either one worked if it got me out of dinner with Shadow.

Inky jiggled, laughing, and I narrowed my eyes. “You’re no help, buddy. You love that overgrown fireball. For once, I’d like an ally in my corner.”

Gaster and Inky continued to stare at me like they could not for the life of them understand why I wasn’t on Team Shadow. Fighting the urge to smack my hand against my forehead, I spun on my heel and stormed off toward my room. Entering the Beast’s lair, a sense of calm descended over me. There was something innately comforting about the dark wood library, with its always-burning fire, plethora of books, and masculine but not overwhelming décor. Since Shadow’s presence had been scarce, I was starting to think of it as mine. Even going as far as trying to research ways to kill a Shadow Beast so I could keep his lair.

What can I say? Shifters were possessive of anything they considered theirs, and this library had easily fallen into that category.

For the first time in days, Torin’s face flashed through my mind, and my wolf let out a soulful cry that had my eyes burning. Wolves were usually the most possessive of their true mates, but Torin and I had been doomed from the start.

At least staying busy helped to keep that asshole off my mind and ease the cracks in my soul from his rejection. Part of me longed to see him one last time—for closure or maybe just curiosity’s sake.

Torin was ingrained in my energy, my soul, and purging him was going to take a fuck ton of time. In the meantime, Shadow and his shenanigans were a good distraction.

Back in my room, I stared into an ever-changing armoire. Tonight, it was filled with evening gowns, clearly in anticipation of Shadow’s dinner requisition. Reaching out, I ran my hand over the silky material. There was a gorgeous range of colors, and I would have chosen many of these outfits if left to my own devices. Not that I’d ever had an occasion to need any dress this fancy.

At first, I gravitated toward a modest black gown, with a sweetheart neckline and ankle-length hem. Staring at it briefly, I was about to pull it from the hanger when a surge of annoyance filled me.

Shadow, once again, was forcing his will on me. He didn’t ask if I wanted to have dinner with him; he just demanded.

I would not slink in there like a demure mouse, under the thumb of her captor. Nope. Fuck that.

The black dress was returned and in its place I chose a fiery red number that would normally clash with my hair. But, in this case, it was actually a perfect ombre match, starting dark at the plunging neckline before fading to a light strawberry near the hem.

Flawless. Not that I expected anything less from this magical place.

So my dress was sorted, and I was going all out with the rest as well. For the first time in days, my hair would come out of its scraggly bun, and I’d finally break out some of the fancy makeup in my drawers. Shadow wanted me at this dinner, and he was going to get me. Every fucking primped and perfected inch.

It was time to remind Shadow that I was no one’s pet.





26

“W hat the fuck?” I growled, dropping the makeup brush with a clatter onto the bench.

How did other women make this shit look so easy? I was starting to sympathize with Simone and her braids. Hair and makeup were hard, and unless I wanted to show up looking like a clown, it was best to just wipe everything off and start again.

By the time I was done, my face was mostly bare, with just a little darkening across my eyeline, some mascara, a touch of red on the cheeks, and deep rich red lipstick. That would have to do.

My hair, though, was working for me for once… Thank the Shad— Actually, screw that. I was thanking no one.

Perfect curls cascaded down my back as I slipped into the red gown, and when I couldn’t get the zip secured, I called for Inky, who was waiting in my bedroom.

“Inky! Buddy, can you get in here and help?”

The swirls of dark smoke slid under the door and I tried not to freak at how creepy it looked. Inky is our friend. Or frenemy at least.

“I can’t get the zip done up,” I said, talking to smoke like it was a living, breathing entity. “Can you help me?”

Icy chills traced across the bare skin of my back—I couldn’t wear a bra with this style—as Inky drifted closer. When Inky touched me there was no pain, just an icy electric zap over my skin. It had no issue zipping me up, and just like all the other clothing from here, the dress fit as if it had been custom made.