The Werewolf's Pretend Fiancée

A Proposal From Mr Blumenthal

The morning sun shone down on the sleepy piece of suburbia. The streets were empty of its residents who were spending their Saturday morning like most sane people, tucked away in bed.

Sophie trudged down the sidewalk, her exhausted brown eyes fighting to stay open after a night spent sleeping outside an art director’s house.

The plan had been to meet him first thing in the morning when his aura was still ‘clean.’

She had read it in a book about being a go-getter that she had decided to burn an hour into her adventure when she was already dealing with Friday night drunks, crooks, and every rotten thing in between.

All around her were mini-mansions and villas, each similar in style with perfect sprawling lawns and trimmed hedges.

When Sophie had moved into her aunt's attic with Ava, fresh out of college, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, she had hoped living among the upper-middle class would be her stepping stone to greatness. Or at least a motivator.

Now, walking past all of it after another failure, all it did was have bitter tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

Her aunt's house, which she had come to see as home, was just like the others. Large and done in gray stone. It reminded her of a medieval castle with a touch of modern flair.

It loomed in the distance and she quickened her pace, eager to sink into the cloudlike softness mattress she and Ava had splurged on to make living in a relative's attic less depressing.

She slipped into the house and turned the corner, heading for the kitchen where a tall glass of alcohol-laced chocolate milk was calling her name, then froze when she spotted the head of blonde hair attached to the large man perched in the pink loveseat in the living room.

The head turned revealing familiar piercing blue eyes.

"Flower!" Called out Aunt Lucia, who was perched in the chair across from him. "You have a guest."

Aunt Lucia was and looked like the perfect hostess, despite just getting out of bed. Like the high-society wife she had been before her tragic divorce.

But it was her smile that Sophie noticed. Not the polite but bland one she usually had for guests who visited too early or too late but a genuinely excited one

"I..." Sophie choked on her words, her hands tightening around the straps of her messenger bag.

"Greet." Aunt Lucia instructed, patiently.

"Good morning... Sir." She said awkwardly, not knowing how she was supposed to address him after their disastrous first meeting a week ago.

Sophie had hoped he was okay as she fled and she also hoped it was the last they would see of each other.

Only one of those wishes had come through, as he looked near perfect in the morning light, unlike a man who had been attacked by a giant wolf.

"You left some of your things in my room and I thought it would only be beyond rude if I did not return them in person." He explained with a nod at the bag resting on the small stool by the loveseat.

His hands were busy with a pretty teacup, the set Aunt Lucia had stolen from her ex-husband's new wife. It was clear Aunt Kucia wanted to impress him.

She shuffled over to grab the bag, careful not to meet his eyes that did not once look away from her. "The uniform belonged to the company so you didn't have to bother."

"I wasn't talking about the uniform."

Frowning she glanced down at the bag and was greeted with the pretty, matching blue set Sophie dubbed her lucky underwear.

"Isn't that sweet," cooed Aunt Lucia while Sophie washed the ground would open up and swallow her.

"I'd like to have a word with my niece before you speak to her, Mr Blumenthal."

"Of course. I can wait." He responded with a nod setting his cup down on the little tray.

Aunt Lucia smiled as she rose from her seat and began to walk out of the room. "Come, Sophonisba. And don't forget the tray."

Sophie pursed her lips as she tucked the bag under her arm and grabbed the tray, stubbornly ignoring the intrigued lift of his brows at her full name.

It was a family tradition that she was proud of, but that didn't make it any easier for her to deal with people's reactions to it.

By the time she arrived at the kitchen, Aunt Lucia was already seated on one of the stools, her grin wide and unrestrained now that she was away from her guest.

"I didn't sleep with him," was the first thing she made clear as she set the tray and bag down.

"Why not?"

Sophie's lips parted in shock. This was the same woman who had put her through countless lectures about how her body was a weapon that should only be wielded by a 'worthy warrior'.

"But you...."

"Do you know who that man in there is?" Aunt Lucia asked in a way that threatened judgment if she responded with a negative.

"Nicholas....."

"Blumenthal."

"Blumenthal!"

Aunt Lucia's response was overshadowed by Ava's excited squeal as she burst into the kitchen.

"Nicholas Blumenthal is in our living room!" She announced to the two, her hair flying everywhere.

"He says he wants to speak to you about a discussion you previously had," Lucia informed Sophie, her brows raised in silent demand for an explanation.

Sophie couldn't give one though, because she knew just as much as they did about this so-called 'discussion'.

"Previous discussion? When did you meet him?" Ava demanded.

"He's the dude I told you I met on New Year's after I showered in that room," Sophie responded vaguely.

So she had left a few details out of the story she told Ava after they found each other, but she did it because she had not thought he would come up again.

"How come I wasn't told about this meeting?" Lucia accused, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Because Sophie was exhausted, then and now, and the last thing she wanted was to be dragged into werewolf drama, while she was trying to come to terms with her breakup with the man she thought she would marry and have eleven kids with.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Well, it obviously is if...."

Lucia was interrupted by a knock on the doorway wood.

All three turned in sync to the man standing there, the top of his head almost brushing the doorway built for humans.

"I hate to interrupt, but my flight leaves in an hour, and my discussion with Sophonisba can't wait much longer."

He informed them with a charming smile that had Ava and Lucia swooning.

"Of course, Mr Blumenthal. We'll give you two the room." Lucia began ushering Ava out of the kitchen, paying no mind to her niece.

They were finally alone, and his smile immediately dulled to cold observation.

"You just had to take a damn shower, didn't you?" He accused, making his way over to the island where she was standing, with slow, deliberate steps.

"Only because your ex is a short-tempered mean girl who dumped her wine over my head," she fired, moving along the edge of the counter to keep him as far away from her as being in the same room allowed.

"Plus, you used me for your little revenge stunt that nearly got me killed, might I add, so I think we're more than even."

His head c****d to the side, eyes studying her in search of something he did not find.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you?"

"Seen what?"

He did not respond, instead fishing out his phone from his pocket, fiddling with it for a few seconds then holding it out to her.

Cautiously, she inched closer to him until she was close enough to grab the phone from his hand and look at the screen.

It was a picture of them on the balcony from that goddess-forsaken night. Their lips were locked, Nicholas’ hand cradling the back of her head in a way that looked loving in the picture when it had been to keep her still, while fireworks lit up the sky above them.

It was a romantic scene, the kind that was quite literally picture-perfect, and the headline of the article only added fuel to the fire.

Accomplished Lawyer and businessman Nicholas Caspian Blumenthal I of the Mountain Peak Alpha family proposes to an unknown human female at the Davenport New Year's Ball after a messy breakup with Mountain Peak darling Miss Georgia Hayworth.

"Unknown female."

It was salt in the still-fresh wound that was her encounter—or lack of, with the art director a couple of hours ago.

"Not for long. The article was published a few hours ago, and sooner than later, the press is going to sniff you out."

He took the phone from her hand and she was overly aware of the feeling of his hand brushing against hers’.

"Don't worry. I'm not stupid enough to lie to anyone that we're engaged."

"And here I was, hoping you were."

Nichola slipped his phone back into his pocket while the other reached into his other pocket and brought out a familiar little box.

Her mind flashed back to the ring she had discovered still on her finger long after she and Ava had left the party.

It was even more beautiful when she could see it. Made of gold, with a large teardrop-shaped diamond bracketed by three small diamonds on each side.

She had carefully tucked it away in her little music box, too afraid to wear it again yet unwilling to part with a beautiful souvenir of the craziest night of her uninteresting life.

"You still have the ring, don't you?" He asked.

"Upstairs in my room. I kept it safe." She felt the need to add when she saw the worry in his eyes.

"Good. You will wear it until I get a replica made in a week or so when we get back to Mountain Peak. Hopefully before the engagement party.."

"Woah! Hold on! What the hell are you talking about?"

Nicholas stared at her as if she was the one spouting rubbish.

"Look, getting back at your ex was fun, but a fake engagement is a little too crazy for me."

"I never said anything about a fake engagement," Nicholas stated with an annoyed and impatient frown.

Sophie was tired, too tired for werewolf drama or the cryptic, posh way he spoke that might as well be Shakespearean English to her uncultured ears.

He must have sensed her growing impatience and so decided to get straight to the point.

"I need you to marry me, Sophonisba."

"Sophie," she corrected, distractedly.

Then her face crinkled when she realized what he had just said.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you," she pointed at him, "want to marry me," then at herself in all her mediocre glory.

He eyed her form, just as impressed by her, and nodded. "As shocking as it is to say, yes. I am asking you to marry me for real."

"Being 'engaged' to you has… opened doors for me that have seemed near impossible to open and loathe as I am to admit it, I need you to keep those doors open. You will, of course, be entitled to all the benefits of being my spouse, including but not limited to financial compensation and assistance in your little art career. But we can discuss all that during negotiations about what our marriage would entail."

Nicholas held out the ring box, missing the ring, but as a symbolic gesture.

"Marry me."

Sophie couldn't help but notice that, like last time, he did not ask, he commanded her.

That observation tickled a part of her that had to deal with rude customers and handsy bosses without being able to fight back.

"No.”