Claimed by Her Delta Protector

Bexley POV

“Alden, this feels completely reckless, and the pack gatekeeper is already glaring at us like we are rogue threats,” Bexley murmured, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she eyed the intimidating bouncer guarding the heavy metal doors of The Black Moon Club.

Alden tightened his grip on her gloved hand, his blue eyes flashing with absolute confidence under the neon purple lights of the Silverpine Pack Academy district. “Relax, Bexley, nothing is going to go wrong tonight. You wanted to experience the nightlife for your birthday celebration, and as your partner, I am making sure you get exactly what you asked for.”

Bexley looked up at him, her chest swelling with a fierce warmth that had nothing to do with the chilly autumn air and everything to do with the golden-boy Alpha heir standing beside her. Alden Fairwick was everything anyone in their pack could ever dream of. With his cropped blond hair, chiseled jawline, and eyes that held the spark of a true warrior, he commanded attention wherever he went. Every she-wolf at the academy practically drooled over him, yet his amber gaze had remained locked exclusively on Bexley since they were pups playing in the shadow of the Ashbourne Pack Estate. They had shared their first clumsy secrets behind the pack library, promised each other eternity before their wolves had even surfaced, and planned out a flawless future together. First graduation from Silverpine Pack Academy, then a formal mating ceremony, and a lifetime ruling side by side.

Months ago, Alden had promised her any gift in existence for her milestone birthday. She had bypassed the usual jewelry or ceremonial daggers and asked for a night out in the city followed by a stay at a hidden pack house where they could finally consummate their bond away from prying pack elders. They had forged fake identification tags, bribed a senior tracker to look the other way, and snuck out past curfew just to taste freedom for a single night.

Now, standing on the sticky pavement amidst a crowd of intoxicated pack guests and whispering academy students, Bexley felt a low hum vibrate beneath her skin. Her inner wolf scratched restlessly at the walls of her consciousness, eager for release, eager for Alden.

“You say that like breaking pack curfew is a walk in the woods,” Bexley teased softly, leaning her weight against his solid shoulder.

Alden chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent a shiver racing down her spine. He ducked his head, capturing her lips in a lingering, intoxicating kiss that tasted faintly of mint and woodsmoke. Bexley melted instantly against his chest, her hands fanning out across his woolen jacket as her pulse skyrocketed. When Alden kissed her, the rest of the world dissolved into meaningless static. His palm slid down her waist, gripping her hip with possessive familiarity, and she let out a breathless sigh against his mouth.

When he finally pulled back, his breath hitched, and a crooked grin spread across his face. “Happy birthday, my Luna,” he whispered, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.

Bexley’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Hearing those words always made her head spin with disbelief and profound adoration. “I love you, Alden,” she breathed, leaning in for another taste.

A heavy hand landed roughly on Bexley’s shoulder, breaking the spell and jarring her out of the intoxicating haze.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a smooth, arrogant male voice drawled from right behind them.

Bexley spun around, her instincts instantly flaring with warning. Standing just outside the velvet rope was a man in his mid-twenties, draped in a sleek black silk shirt that hugged broad shoulders and tapered down to narrow waistlines. His styled dark hair and predatory brown eyes scanned her up and down with an insolent hunger that made her skin crawl. Two burly men wearing the heavy leather jackets of rogue enforcers flanked him like shadows.

“Excuse me?” Bexley said, pasting on a polite yet guarded expression, assuming he was part of the club management.

“The name is Dashiell,” the dark-haired man said, flashing a blinding, predatory smile as he extended a manicured hand toward her. “And you are?”

“Bexley,” she replied hesitantly, placing her fingertips in his palm for a brief second before trying to pull away.

Dashiell refused to release her grip. Instead, with a sudden, forceful yank, he hauled her forward past the velvet rope, pulling her entirely out of Alden’s protective orbit.

“Hey!” Alden snarled, his voice dropping an octave into the menacing rumble of an aggravated Alpha. He surged forward, his hands balling into tight fists as his golden-brown eyes flashed with sudden territorial rage.

Dashiell didn’t even blink. He kept his arrogant gaze fixed on Bexley while holding her hand hostage. “I can bypass this ridiculous line for you, sweetheart. No need to freeze your gorgeous legs out here in the cold.”

Excitement at bypassing the queue warred momentarily with sheer revulsion at Dashiell’s touch, but the second Bexley saw Alden’s face contort into lethal fury, all thoughts of the club vanished. She yanked her hand back with all her might, glaring daggers at the stranger.

“Let go of me right now,” Bexley snapped, stepping backward until her shoulder pressed against Alden’s solid chest. “I am with my mate—my boyfriend. And we don’t need your help.”

Dashiell’s smile faded into a cold, cruel smirk. He looked past her at Alden, his lip curling in utter disdain. “Oh, the pup? I thought he looked like lost luggage. We don’t let stray curs into VIP sections, darling.”

Bexley’s jaw dropped. The sheer audacity made her blood boil. She opened her mouth to unleash a torrent of verbal abuse, but Alden beat her to it.

“Step away from her before I break every bone in your arrogant body,” Alden threatened, taking another aggressive step forward.

Before Alden could close the distance, the two rogue enforcers behind Dashiell lunged forward with terrifying speed. One of them slammed a massive forearm across Alden’s throat, shoving him violently back against the rough brick wall of the building and pinning him there with suffocating force.

“Alden!” Bexley screamed, lunging toward him, but Dashiell caught her by the waist, anchoring her firmly against his hard chest as he laughed.

“Let him go, you bastards!” Bexley shrieked, kicking wildly against Dashiell’s shins and clawing at the arms locked around her middle. “Let him go right now or I swear to the Moon Goddess I will gut you!”

Dashiell chuckled, tightening his hold until she struggled to draw breath. “Settle down, little wolf. Your little boy toy just needs a quick lesson in pack etiquette. One word from me and my men will snap his spine right here on the sidewalk.”

Alden choked for air against the heavy forearm crushing his windpipe, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson as blood vessels strained in his temples. He glared at Dashiell with pure, unadulterated murder in his eyes, refusing to look weak even as his boots scraped against the concrete.

“Touch her again and I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth,” Alden wheezed out, his voice hoarse and rattling.

Dashiell’s expression darkened instantly, all playfulness evaporating into vicious cruelty. “Nobody threatens Dashiell Blackthorn.”

With blinding speed, Dashiell pulled his right fist back and drove it straight into Alden’s face with a sickening crunch. The impact snapped Alden’s head violently to the side, splitting his lip open and sending a bright arc of crimson blood splattering across the pavement.

Bexley let out a bloodcurdling shriek of pure panic. “Stop! Stop it! I’ll do whatever you want! Just don’t hurt him anymore! Please!” Tears streamed hot and fast down her cheeks as she thrashed against Dashiell’s iron grip, her chest heaving with terror.

Alden spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the street, his glare unwavering as he tried to push past the enforcer pinning him. “Don’t you dare give in to this piece of trash, Bexley! Keep your hands off her!” he roared, his voice cracking with agony.

Dashiell ignored him, turning his attention back to Bexley with a triumphant, sickly sweet grin. He wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the back of his thumb, his touch feeling like sandpaper on raw skin. “There now. Was that so hard? Come inside with me. Just one dance, and your precious boyfriend gets to keep his teeth.”

Bexley’s entire body trembled with nausea and adrenaline. She cast a desperate, tear-blurred glance back at Alden, whose face was smeared with fresh blood, his chest heaving as he struggled uselessly against the rogue enforcers holding him down.

“Fine,” Bexley whispered, her voice hollow and shaking as despair clawed at her throat. “Just leave him alone.”

Dashiell laughed softly, a low, victorious sound, and hauled her toward the entrance of the club, dragging her past the heavy velvet ropes while the pack gatekeeper averted his gaze in silent complicity. Bexley looked back one last time as the heavy metal doors began to swing shut, sealing her inside the dim, deafening chaos of the club while Alden roared her name from the dark street outside.