A Night To Remember: Chapter 1

A Night To Remember

Chapter 1:

Never had Wolf seen so many stars. Having lived most of his life in huge, bustling cities filled with skyscrapers and pollution, the young city werewolf had to admit he'd never felt so intimidated by the night sky. It was a deep shade of purple, not yet black for the sun had only just dipped below the horizon. But already he could see several entire constellations twinkling above him.
After gazing up wards for so long, his neck had started to hurt. He rubbed it gently and averted his eyes to the palace that towered above him. He hadn't yet plucked up the courage to enter. Instead, he'd waited outside in the cool summer's breeze watching the fancily dressed guests saunter by through the huge, elaborate doors.
It suddenly occurred to him that he wasn't exactly appropriately dressed for such a place as his eyes lowered to his faded blue jeans, plain white t-shirt, casual blue jacket and scuffed white trainers. Ahh who cared? He didn't really want to be here anyway. He had no choice but to come. Night had fallen and he was so far from home. The palace looked like the only good place to stay.
With a heavy sigh and an adjustment of his white beanie hat, he strolled quietly up the steps to the towering double doors and into the entrance hall.

Wolf was a young boy of 18 with striking icy blue eyes set into a pale, handsome face. He had messy sunshine blond hair and a rugged bad-boy swagger. He was born to a human mother and a werewolf father in a city far from the countryside.
Never had he been so far from home...

"Room for one, please," he asked the young woman at the desk. She looked him up and down and a frown flickered briefly over her pale features.
"How many nights?" she asked politely with the fakest of smiles.
Wolf pondered for a moment before answering, "Just the one." Any longer and he was sure he'd probably go insane.
"Room number 13 and that'll be 130 tarmes please."
Wolf's face fell, but he reached into his pocket.


130 tarmes! What a joke that'd been! thought Wolf as he stood at the palace's bar, staring at the remainder of his cash. He grumbled quietly to himself and gulped down his liquor.

Outside in the garden, a young girl was sauntering easily up to the enormous beacon of light that was the palace. She admired the way the light poured from every window, and the spires were silhouetted against the large, plump moon that had settled itself in the sky, bathing the palace grounds in a soft, white light. The faintest sound of crickets could be heard, and the scuffling of the treetops as the gentlest of breezes ran through them.
Ramona approached the large entryway with a secret, brooding smile on her lips, the one she wore when she was assessing a potential conquest.
What had drawn her to this place? She wasn't quite sure. Many fantastical stories were passed around about the palace, and it had a certain quality about it that made Ramona increasingly curious.

A young woman seated at a desk looked up as she entered, said a few words into the receiver and clicked the phone she was holding down.
"Hello, there," she said inquiringly, forcing a smile with those gaudily-painted lips. "How may I help?"
"Room for one please," said the girl in a soft, alluring voice. Although maybe two, she added mentally.
Those hazel brown eyes lazily scanned the room; a balding man in a suit that was so tight around his pudgy neck it appeared to be choking him was reading a newspaper distractedly, as though he'd completely forgotten where he was, and a pair of women wearing far too little clothes and far too much make-up were making their way through from the bar, laughing as they sauntered up the stairs.
"Miss?"
"Hmm?" Ramona turned back to the receptionist with a sweet, inquisitive smile upon her lips, which instantly disappeared as she regained her composure.
"I said that'll be a hundred fifty tarmes."
"Oh, right." Ramona handed over a roll of crisp notes without even blinking. After all, there were plenty more where that came from.
She then caught sight of a rather eye-catching specimen, making his way up the large marble staircase. Floppy blond hair, not an ounce of fat on him, and lips that were made for kissing... She took the keys the secretary was trying to hand her without so much as turning her head, and began to follow the man up the stairs with the look of a prowling cat upon her face...

Wolf's eyes wandered lazily across his pile of empty glasses just as the bartender bustled over to clear them up.
"Another?" he asked, peering at Wolf's bored expression over the slender lenses of his glasses.
Wolf nodded slowly, slipping his hand under his hat to scratch his head then removing it with a small sigh.
"Yeah, go on then, mate..." he mumbled, sliding another note across the bar's glossy surface.

A curiously short time later, a bedroom door on the fifth floor swung open as Ramona stepped into the corridor, wiping the smudges of lipstick from her mouth with the back of her hand. She threw a smirk back at the half-naked figure on the bed before sauntering contentedly down the hallway...

Well, well... Ramona thought, as she turned left and found herself in what was unmistakeably a bar.
The dim glow of chandelier light gave her hair and skin a soft, golden glow as she walked slowly, conspicuously toward the bar, eyes flitting left and right as she picked out potential targets... A 20-something guy with bottle-blond hair and a diamond earring... A too-skinny guy that couldn't be much older than herself with electric blue hi-lights... A well-built guy with a tight T-shirt and steel-toed boots...
None of them tickled her fancy, and neither did the bartender as she wiggled up to him, fluttered her eyelashes and asked for a glass of rouge putting on a vaguely French accent.
"Oui, madame," he replied, obviously trying to impress her, and she rolled her eyes as he turned his back.
Her gaze then travelled over to the only other person at the bar, a young man of no more than 18 with sunshine blond hair and eyes like chips of ice, and her full lips raised themselves in a smirk as she leant up against the bar.
"Hello, there," she purred, taking the glass of blood red liquid that had been set down next to her, swirling it a few times and inhaling the rich aroma.
The dreamy, melodic tone in the girl's voice snagged Wolf's attention instantly, though he refrained from spinning around to face her. Instead he cast her a slow sideways glance, taking a sip of his drink as he did so. In the brief moment that his eyes fell on her, his icy gaze managed to pick out the beautiful details of her face; her striking hazel eyes, plump, glossy lips, perfect porcelain skin and rosy red cheeks, all framed by a cascade of shimmering caramel blonde locks. He had to admit then and there that she was the most attractive girl he had seen in a long time. Her elegance was almost alien to him, considering the fact all the girls he had previously encountered were trashy school girls from the rough parts of the city.
Slowly, he turned to face her, avoiding letting his curious gaze wander down her curves.
"Hey," he said simply, cracking a small smile.
Her smirk broadened as she took a long, luxurious sip of the wine in her hand; it tasted rich and fruity, with a hint of smoky aroma. Perfect.
"What's a guy like you doing sitting all alone in a bar like this?" she asked casually, running her pinkie around the rim of the glass she held.
Funny. He was about to ask her a similar question.
Instead he smiled and gave her a lazy shrug.
"Do you mean that as in 'what's a scruffy lad like you doing in a palace?'" he asked with a grin, watching her slyly as she drank.
Now it was Ramona's turn to shrug, although the grace with which she did so was almost mesmerizing.
"However you want to take it," she said simply, taking another small sip of wine, eyes glinting above the glass.
This was going to be an interesting evening...