Deja Vu

"What an oddball." Muttering to herself, Gwyneth sauntered into the ballroom.

Ignoring the vampires' stares, she looked ahead, noticing humans gathered in what appeared to be their own section of the ballroom.

If they could not even relate to one another, what use was there for such a gathering?

"Hypocrites." She crossed into the area where the humans stayed, hissing in displeasure.

But as soon as she took a step closer, she felt a firm grip on her wrist, and her throat gave way to a quiet gasp.

"Who—" She turned, her midnight blue eyes flashing seemingly anticipating the blood-red orbs concealed behind that blindfold.

A frown swept across her face, her gaze gracing his twisted, amused smiled crimson lips before shifting to her wrist, which was clutched tightly by his large, veiny hand. "What are you doing?"

"It is so hard to stay away, Sunshine." Before she could process his words, he pulled her in close to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. "How about a dance? We could unify this absurd gathering, don't you think?"

Gwyneth gasped for air, her chest heaving with anger as she looked into his face, trying to decipher why he was pursuing her when she had made it quite obvious that she was not interested.

"What makes you think I am interested in this absurd gathering? I have no desire to unite bloodsuckers and humans." She spoke, finding herself agreeing with his words.

He cocked his head to the side, smirking. "You mean predators and preys?"

Gwyneth twitched her lips. "You consider yourself a predator?" Then she scowled intensely. "Unhand me now."

"No." He chuckled, flashing his pearly whites, which revealed natural fangs.

"No?" Gwyneth could not believe the audacity. This man incited fury and gave her the creeps! "How dare..."

"Feel free to struggle." Without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, his smile widening as she squeaked in shock.

She felt just right in his arms. So small. However, he could sense her anger as he made his way to the dance floor, where vampires and humans alike were having a good time dancing.

From the moment he had approached her, all eyes had been on them.

Shock and awe—those expressions were insignificant compared to the embarrassment Gwyneth's face conveyed, which increased her feelings of unease about being in a stranger's arms.

Right then, a tonne of questions were racing through her head.

What was happening? Why was this stranger so drawn to her? Why was he ignorant of the concept of personal space? Why was he so upfront? Moreover, was he not blind? Why was he heading to the dance floor?

She did not struggle in his arms. Struggling would invite more looks and possibly spark a scandal. Not that there wasn't already a scandal surrounding this!

This vampire was destroying her flawless image! Not that she cared; he was just getting in the way of what she truly wanted to do at the ball!

She glanced up at his face; his attention was fixed on the dance floor, his strange smile growing. She gulped. Her spine tingling with unnatural chill.

This vampire—who was he? He was clearly a royal, but just who? Why was he holding her so tenderly, like she would shatter or vanish?

She looked away from his face, her face heating up with more embarrassment, only to be gently lowered to her feet on the dance floor.

Suddenly, as if being told, the entire room darkened, and surprised murmurs filled the air.

Relieved that the vampire had let her go, Gwyneth took a step back and caught her breath. She started to run away, not caring that it was a strange blackout—she just wanted to get out of there. Even though he was a just vampire, she felt like she needed to flee for her life.

Abruptly, the room brightened up even more than it had before. Gwyneth bumped into someone and felt strong arms encircle her petite frame, making her heart skip a beat.

Her feet felt like they were cemented to the ground, goosebumps protruded from her skin, and fear was the only emotion that was rising to the top of her consciousness.

Her gaze dipped, and she swallowed forcefully attempting to slow her heart's rapid beat, which intensified given that she never moved from that spot. She remained where he had dropped her, and the whispers, the voices, the glances were all normal.

There were no looks at all—it was as if she had vanished from existence.

What was happening?

"Who are you?" Breathy, but with a clarity that surprised her, she asked.

"You know, it is not often that I get to hold you this way."

Gwyneth blinked rapidly, her breathing stiff at those words that came out so... So... Sad?

"You — you must be mistaken, Mister." She muttered, hoping to persuade him that he had the wrong person.

"Mister?" He asked, his deep voice rising like she made a joke.

Gwyneth closed her eyes, breathing deeply. 'Something is not right, Something is not right." She kept chanting to herself.

"It's Sirius." He introduced in a grave and tense tone.

"Sirius." Gwyneth found herself blurting, her stomach tightening, and her head throbbing as she began to experience a sense of Deja Vu?

What the hell was this? She was in the arms of a stranger! A stranger in whom she had no interest in!

"Okay, that is enough!" Clutching her teeth, she planted her hands on his firm chest and started to push herself away from him.

Sirius released her, sensing a loss of warmth in his arms. He dropped his arms dully, biting down on his lower lip. "Enough?"

Wondering why she had not screamed at him or chased him away, Gwyneth took a deep breath. For her own mental well-being, she really wanted to make a scene, but she refrained because she felt sorry for him because he was blind.

"Do I know you?" She arched a brow, fury flickering in her eyes. "Clearly, I do not. Now, avoid me." Without waiting for a response or a reaction, she turned away and stormed off the dance floor.

Sirius's smile faded, and he moved to follow her at once. However, "That is enough freedom. Return right now.' Kieran spoke, his voice cold and commanding, halting Sirius's steps promptly.