Chapter 12: Just a Bit Too Chill

Blair stared at the scarred Tiger beastman, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

He took a step toward her, his amber eyes narrowing as he took in her plain dark clothes and her distinctly human scent.

Five minutes. Get a cup. Look chill.

Heather’s terrible advice echoed in Blair’s panicked mind.

Without breaking eye contact with the Tiger, Blair blindly reached her hand out toward a passing waiter carrying a neon tray. Her fingers closed around a red plastic cup. She brought it to her lips and tipped it back, chugging a massive gulp of whatever was inside.

It tasted like fermented honey, copper, and liquid fire.

Blair choked, coughing violently into her elbow as the liquid burned a trail of absolute agony down her throat.

The Tiger beastman paused, his nose wrinkling in disgust at her coughing fit. With a dismissive sneer, he bumped her shoulder one last time and pushed his way into the dancing crowd, clearly deciding she wasn’t worth his time.

Blair let out a ragged breath, leaning against the wall. "Okay," she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Got the cup. Blend in. Just... blend..."

She stopped.

Something was wrong.

It started as a warm tingling in the tips of her fingers, but within seconds, it morphed into a sweltering, unnatural heat that bloomed right in the center of her chest.

Blair blinked, but the grand, multi-story foyer seemed to tilt on its axis. The blinding strobe lights from the balconies suddenly felt like they were piercing straight through her retinas. The heavy, thumping bass of the music no longer just vibrated in her chest; it felt like it was rattling her brain around in her skull.

She looked down at the red cup in her trembling hand.

This wasn’t cheap college beer. This was high-grade beast liquor.

Whatever she had just swallowed was designed for the metabolisms of apex predators. For a human, it was basically poison.

"Oh, no," Blair whispered, her words slurring slightly.

The heat inside her spiked violently. Her burgundy long-sleeved shirt, which had felt so comfortable ten minutes ago, suddenly felt like it was woven from fiberglass. She felt flushed, her skin burning up as a strange lethargy flooded her veins.

Worse than the heat was the smell.

The musky scent of predator pheromones in the room, which had been overwhelming before, was now completely suffocating. It smelled aggressive. Hungry. It made her stomach churn and her head spin dizzily.

She needed to find Heather. She needed to leave.

Blair pushed off the wall, stumbling forward into the sea of writhing bodies. "Heather!" she tried to yell, but her voice was lost in the deafening roar of the party.

She tried to weave through the crowd, but she had lost all coordination. She bounced off a tall Bear beastman, who shoved her away with a laugh. She tripped over the hem of a beastwoman’s skirt, barely catching herself before hitting the floor. The heat inside her body was becoming unbearable, making her gasp for air that smelled entirely of sweat, expensive cologne, and danger.

Air. I need air.

Through the dizzying, neon-lit chaos, she spotted a set of glass doors leading out to the pool patio.

Putting her head down, Blair practically threw her weight forward, shoving blindly through the last layer of partying students. She burst through the glass doors, stumbling out into the cool night air.

She dropped the red cup. It clattered against the stone tiles, spilling the remaining amber liquid. Blair gripped the stone balustrade of the patio, her knuckles turning white as she tried to force her lungs to expand.

But there was no reprieve here.

The patio was just as packed as the mansion. Dozens of beastmen were lounging on the deck chairs, splashing in the wide, glowing blue pool, and showing off their physical prowess.

Blair swayed on her feet, the liquor completely hijacking her nervous system. The world was spinning in circles. She took a clumsy step backward, trying to distance herself from a group of rowdy Rhino beastmen who were aggressively chest-bumping near the edge of the water.

"Watch it, lesser!" one of them barked.

He didn’t mean to hit her. He just took a step back, his bulk colliding with Blair’s much smaller frame.

But with her balance completely ruined by the spiked drink, the impact sent her flying.

Blair’s feet slipped out from under her on the wet stone tiles. The world tilted upside down, the starry night sky flashing before her eyes.

SPLASH.

Blair hit the water hard, plunging straight into the deep end of the massive pool.

The icy shock of the water was a brutal contrast to the burning heat ravaging her veins. But the temperature wasn’t the problem.

For her entire life, Blair had suffered from a paralyzing, inexplicable phobia of bodies of water. It wasn’t just fear; it was a physical barrier that her body refused to cross. Whenever she was submerged, her mind would spiral into blinding panic.

And right now, under the disorienting influence of the liquor, that terror was magnified a hundredfold. Her body simply seized.

She opened her mouth to gasp, swallowing a mouthful of water. She thrashed blindly, but her limbs felt like they were made of lead. The bass of the party above muffled the sound of the splashing and cries for help. No one had noticed her fall. No one was looking. No one actually cared.

The unnatural heat of the drug warred with the freezing water, paralyzing her nervous system.

Blair began to sink into the quiet, glowing blue depths. Her lungs burned. Her vision slowly began to darken around the edges. I’m going to drown in this pool, she thought, I’m going to die here.

Just as the last bubble of air escaped her lips, the water shifted behind her.

Muscular arms wrapped around her waist. The stranger ripped her backward through the water, hauling her toward the surface.