I snatch up the glass and down the whole thing, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I need more.
The pitcher in the center of the table is empty andfeeling more confident than earlier, I feel like I can make it across the room without falling flat on my face.
“Where are you going?” It’s Sebastian who asks the question.
Fingers wrapping around the handle of the pitcher, I shake it in his direction, “To get water. I’m on a wine ban.”
“I’ll go,” He offers, moving to pick Willow up off his lap.
“I’m good,” I point at him, “You stay.”
His brows twitch as I keep pointing my finger at him like he’s a dog and not a very real man, but he lets me go. Malakai has yet to reappear which is a blessing. Not sure I could have handled another second with him in this state, mainly because I can’t control my tongue and I’m not sure if I’m going to say something I’ll regret.
I make it to the bar that’s been set up, and drop the pitcher on the counter, blowing out a breath as I wait. A few people talk to me but I’m not focusing enough to remember any names or anything they’ve said and when I get the water, I turn back to the table only to be doused in a cold liquid.
I suck in a shocked breath, the pitcher of water falling from my hand and smashing on the floor, scattering ice cubes and soaking the end of my dress in ice cold water.
And when I look up, I see the same woman who was in the hall with Malakai.
“Oops,” She gasps in mock horror, the grin tuggingup the side of her mouth making it very clear she just did that on purpose.
Red wine is seeping through the thin silky material of my dress, soaking my skin beneath it and blooming as it grows across my abdomen. It’s macabre, the deep crimson stain on a white gown, spreading and growing and all I can do is stand there and watch it happen.
Everyone is staring.
The woman is just standing there.
Behind her I can see Sebastian moving toward me, this big bear of a man shoving people out of his way as Willow stares on in horror.
But it isn’t Sebastian that gets to me first.
It’s Malakai.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He growls, his anger palpable, thickening the air around us.
“I– I–” I stutter out my words, my eyes on the growing stain. The dress is ruined. They’ll be no saving it and everyone saw her do it, but no one is helping.
It seems ridiculous to cry over it. I’m blaming the alcohol for the sting of tears I feel welling up in my eyes.
“Not you,” He softens as he speaks to me, “You!” He points to the woman. “Get her the fuck out of here. Now!”
There’s a sudden flurry of movement as several large bodies move in.
“Mal,” She says sweetly, “It was an accident. She’s drunk, she wasn’t looking where she was going.”
“Bullshit,” Sebastian is here, and he’s glaring. Oh shit, he’s scary, liketerrifying. He looks like he wants to rip her apart and throw away the pieces.
“Get her the fuck out of here.” Malakai orders, the voice coming from him right now not one I’ve heard him use. This is the real him. Not the pretend pieces he’s given me these last few days, this man right here is the devil in the flesh, and I’m frozen in his orbit.
People move at his word, they cower and bow, at his every beck and call.
“Olivia,” He speaks so gently to me in comparison to the way he just commanded the room, “Darling?”
“My dress,” Is all I manage to squeak.
I can feel myself flushing hot all over, embarrassment making me want to curl up into myself with everyone still watching.
“Breathe,” Malakai whispers, hands up as he steps toward me, like he’s soothing a frightened animal.
