CHAPTER 4: APPROACHING HER

SORAYA’S POV

"I said a strong drink, not wine!" I glared at the young bartender, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"B-but ma'am, y-your sister..."

"NOT WINE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, grateful for the loud music that drowned out my voice.

"Thanks."

The man handed me a strong drink, its color a strange, pale gree and I gulped it down, not wanting to turn my gaze toward the dance floor. It was on the left side, away from the strippers' stage, where lovers swayed together, their bodies pressed close.

And, as if fate were mocking me, Dorian was there.

Dancing.

With Elara.

Their lips tangled in a heated kiss, their hands all over each other.

"You know them?" I asked the bartender after finishing my drink and ordering another.

"Which one?" He hesitated, reluctant to pour, but one glare from me had him obeying.

"The lady in the brown dress and the man in the blue suit."

"You mean Alpha Dorian of Redclad Pack?"

So, he knew him?

"Yes!" I snapped, grabbing the drink and downing it in one swift motion.

"Yeah, they're famous here. They always come together, spend the whole night enjoying themselves." He paused, then lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. "I heard he hated his wife and Luna so much but loved the woman he's with now. Didn’t know how to leave his Luna, though. But to his relief, he found a way to toss her aside. Now, they're planning a coronation for his new Luna."

I gasped, nearly choking on my drink. The pain I had tried to bury for the past two weeks clawed its way back to the surface.

"More," I ordered. This time, the bartender didn’t hesitate before handing me another glass.

At first, the sour taste had been unbearable. But now? It felt good. It numbed me.

I was glad Geraldina had disappeared, probably in the restroom or distracted by some man. If she were here, I wouldn’t have made it to my tenth glass.

"It isn’t good for a beautiful lady to drink like that."

A deep, cold voice cut through the haze of my intoxication.

Deeper than Dorian’s.

It made my heart skip a beat.

Slowly, I turned and locked eyes with striking green ones, so intense, they felt like they could pierce straight into my soul.

"Who… who are you?"

Before he could answer, my gaze flickered back toward the dance floor.

Dorian was carrying Elara in his arms, heading for the stairs.

He didn’t even see me.

Or maybe he did. And just didn’t care.

"I can feel your pain."

The stranger ignored my question, his gaze following mine.

"You… you know me?" I asked, shock evident in my voice.

"Who wouldn’t know a beautiful woman like you?"

My mouth opened and closed on its own accord.

I wished Dorian had seen this.

This man, was breathtaking. A demi-god in male-wolf form. Raven-black hair, gleaming under the dim lights. Those piercing green eyes, partially hidden by thick lashes. Sharp cheekbones. Broad shoulders. Power radiated from him in waves, his aura commanding submission.

"Who are you?" I murmured, feeling an unsettling warmth between my legs.

Damn it.

I was wet for a stranger.

It had to be the alcohol.

"I am Damon."

"Damon…" I repeated his name like an incantation, burning it into my mind.

I didn’t know what was happening to me. I had only ever felt this way once before—for my childhood crush, the man who became my husband… and then shattered me.

But this?

This was different.

This man was different.

Colder. Stronger. More dangerous.

And he had me trembling with nothing but a look.

But all I wanted was to touch him, dare him to see if he could hurt me.

"Yes."

His deep voice pulled me back to reality. I reached for my drink, but before I could take another sip, he grabbed the glass and set it aside.

"Stay out of my business," I warned, glaring at him. But the moment my hand brushed against his cold one, a shiver ran down my spine.

"I can’t let you waste yourself."

"And I can't let you interfere in my business." I pouted like a child, my vision blurring, but I forced my eyes to stay open.

"You see that man and that woman?" I sighed, gesturing toward the couple.

"They used to mean the world to me. One was my best friend. The other… my husband of four years. But on our fourth anniversary, everything changed."

I didn't care if he was listening.

I just needed to speak.

"It was all a lie. They were fake!"

Tears spilled down my cheeks like an unstoppable river.

And for some reason, I didn’t feel ashamed to cry in front of him.

"So, let me get wasted," I muttered, wiping my tears away. I turned to the bartender, ready to order another drink, but before I could, Damon spoke.

"What if I wasted you instead?"

I froze.

What?

"Do you want me to waste you?" He repeated the words and I found myself moaning at his delicious voice

"Please waste me!"

Fuck!

I had just agreed!

"You are playing with fire, little wolf."

"Then let it burn me!" I swear, it was as if my mouth did its own magic without letting my mind do its work.

Before I could process his words, he was already pulling me to my feet.

And I…

I let him.

I let this stranger take me up the same stairs Dorian and Elara had just climbed.

He smelled like peppermint and pine.

Damn it.

What was I thinking?

But it was hard to think when he laid me on a soft mattress, his body hovering over mine.

His green eyes burned into me.

"I've never seen eyes as beautiful and unique as yours," he murmured, his fingers trailing through my hair.

"You look beautiful."

I couldn’t breathe.

I wanted to touch him.

I wanted to drown in him.

I had never felt this way with Dorian.

"I… I want you to waste me," I whispered.

His gaze darkened. "Are you sure you want to do this? With a stranger?"

Before he could finish his sentence, I leaned up and crashed my lips against his.

I had been naive.

So blind that I hadn't seen how Elara had wanted my mate, how she had pretended to be my best friend while secretly plotting against me.

But tonight?

Tonight, I would be blind no more.

Before I knew it, Damon’s lips left mine, trailing lower and lower down my abdomen to my secret garden.

Until suddenly, he stopped and flinched.

"W-what is it?" I asked, disappointment lacing my voice.

"I want to make sure you're really ready for this."

Before I could ask what he meant, he stood up and disappeared into the room, only to return with a bunch of papers in his hand.

"Sign here."

I blinked. "Why?"

"You want me to waste you, don’t you?"

I nodded. I was too far gone to argue.

"Then sign."

He seemed impatient.

And so was I.

What did I have left to care about?

I had lost everything.

My home.

My pack.

My mate.

Nothing else mattered.

"Yes, I want you to waste me."

I reached for the pen and signed.

Already forgetting…

That just two weeks ago, I had signed divorce papers.