Chapter 5 : The Night I Met Death

Chapter 5

KIERA’S POV

The stranger’s hand around my wrist felt both cold and warm at the same time.

His grip was strong and I tried to pull away, but my body just wouldn’t listen to me, so I stood fixated on that spot unable to move.

The music in the club seemed to have gotten louder for a minute, the way the sound pulsed made it feel like a second heartbeat, while my real heart hammered against my ribs in pure unadulterated panic.

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammered again, my voice could barely make it through the noise. “I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

He still didn’t let go, at least not immediately. His fingers stayed wrapped around my hand, it was firm but not painful.

And somehow it felt…commanding.

It felt like he had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere yet. I finally looked up properly. Even with the black mask covering half his face, his presence swallowed everything around us.

He was crazy tall, with broad shoulders stretching the dark shirt he wore. The aura around him felt charged, you know like gravity itself bent toward him.

My weak wolf, the one that had never been more than a whimper inside me, rolled herself up in fear. Or maybe something else, at that point I couldn’t tell anymore.

“You’re shaking,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m fine,” I lied quickly, tugging my wrist again. This time he released me, but his eyes that were the color of frozen gold behind the mask, stayed locked on mine.

I felt exposed and stripped naked, even though I was still fully dressed in Susan’s tight black dress that somehow accentuated every curve I usually tried to hide.

Susan appeared beside me suddenly, her eyes were wide with excitement. “Kiera! There you are.” She glanced at the stranger and her smile grew bigger, the kind of smile that said she approved. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me,” she added with a wink before disappearing back into the crowd like a traitor.

I wanted to call her back. I wanted to run after her and tell her I couldn’t do this. That I was still married. That my husband was currently fucking my sister on my desk. That I was hurt and pathetic and the last thing I needed was another man touching me.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stood there, as the bass of the music vibrated under my heels, the alcohol Susan had forced into my system made my head spin and the images from my office kept flashing in my mind—Rafael’s back moving, Alice’s moans, the way he had laughed while calling me useless.

Tears began to form in my eyes again.

“Why are you crying?” the stranger asked. He hadn’t moved closer, but somehow he felt nearer. His scent was dark, woodsy and somewhat masculine. I couldn't place my finger on what it was, but it was intoxicating.

“I’m not crying,” I whispered, even as one tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away angrily. “I just… I shouldn’t be here.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was an  interestingitem  he had found in the dirt. “Yet here you are.”

I laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Here I am. In a dress that isn't even mine, in a club I don’t belong in and have never been to, running from a life that just fell apart.”

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I guess the alcohol had taken full effect as my tongue had been loosened and the dam of pain I had been holding flooded rapidly.

I told him bits and pieces, about everything.

About how I caught my husband with my sister, how they laughed about me, how everything I owned was about to be stolen from me and it was all my fault. I didn’t say their names. I didn’t say everything, but at the same time I said enough.

He sat with me and listened without interrupting. No fake sympathy. No words, he just watched me with his piercing golden eyes that felt like they could see through my messed up soul.

When I finally stopped talking, my chest felt lighter, sharing the weight of what I had been carrying helped.

“You’re running,” he said quietly.

“I’m trying to survive,” I corrected, in a trembling voice.

His hand came up again, this time brushing a strand of my black hair away from my face. His touch was surprisingly gentle for someone who looked like he could break bones without effort.

“Come with me,” he said and it didn't really sound like a question.

I should have said no. I should have turned around and found Susan and gone home to cry myself to sleep like the weak girl I had always been.

But the thought of going back to that house, to Rafael’s lies and Alice’s fake smiles, made me feel sick.

So I nodded.

He led me through the crowd and people moved out of his way without him saying a word. We ended up in a VIP section upstairs, away from the worst of the noise but still close enough that we could hear the music through the walls.

The lights were dimmer in here. Red and purple colors shone over everything, making the leather couches look like they belonged in another world.

He sat down first and pulled me onto his lap like it was the most natural thing. I held my breath subconsciously.

I was straddling him, my dress rose up my thighs and I rested my hands on his hard chest because I didn’t know where else to put them.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.

“You don’t need it tonight,” he replied.

His hands settled on my waist and he brushed the side of my ribs gently with his thumb. That act alone caused my belly to flip with unimaginable thoughts.

I hated it. I hated how my body responded when Rafael had made me feel unwanted for so long. But this stranger was looking at me like I was something worth devouring.

I leaned in before I could think better of it and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was full of desperation and anger, and all the pain I couldn’t scream say out loud. He kissed me back with the same intensity.

His hand slid into my thick black hair, gripping it tightly, just enough to make me gasp against his mouth.

The memories from earlier on flooded me again.

Rafael’s face when he told Alice I was pathetic. The way he groaned her name. The sound of their bodies moving together on my desk.

I kissed the stranger harder, like I could erase those images with his tongue. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and he let me. When my palm touched his bare covered in muscle skin, I felt even more hurt.

“You’re trembling again,” he murmured against my neck before biting down on it gently.

“Because I’m scared,” I admitted breathlessly. “And drunk. And stupid.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his golden eyes looked at me eagerly through the mask. “Do you want to stop?”

I should have said yes.

Instead, I shook my head and whispered, “Make me forget everything. Just for tonight.”

His grip on my hips became tighter and in one smooth move, he flipped us so my back was against the couch and he was above me.

The weight of his body pressed me down, he was  dominating. His mouth claimed mine again while his hand slid up my thigh, pushing the dress higher.

I moaned into his mouth when his fingers brushed against my lace panties.

Both shame and desire twisted together until I couldn’t tell which was stronger, little drops of tears slipped from the corners of my eyes even as my body moved more into his touch.

He paused. “Are you still sure?”

“Yes,” I breathed.  “Please.”

He didn’t ask again.

He took off my clothes slowly. My dress first, then his shirt. Every time he touched me, I felt more desire that I ever had experienced with Rafael and every time he kissed me it felt like both a punishment and salvation at the same time.

When he finally pushed inside me, his cock felt deep and thick and overwhelming, I cried out and dug my nails into his back in response.

It hurt in the best way possible, but it also felt real.

I let him take me apart on that couch, over and over, while the club music thumped distantly below us.

I whispered things I shouldn’t have. I begged for him to go deeper and harder. I sobbed Rafael’s name once by mistake and the stranger only fucked me harder, like he wanted to erase the other man from my mind.

Hours went by quickly.

And by the time we finished, my body was spent and covered in sweat, marks and cum. My mind finally felt  quiet for the first time since I walked into that office.

I lay against his chest, listening to his  heartbeat, while tracing idle patterns on his skin with my fingers.

Then, as sleep started pulling at me, he finally removed his mask.

My eyes widened in the dim light.

I recognized that face, the chiseled face frame. The dark hair with faint strands of  silver. The icy aura that rolled off him.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Alistair.

The Lycan King.

The man Rafael needed for his alliance.

The man everyone called the embodiment of death.

I felt the wave of terror hit me like a truck as reality crashed down on me.

I tried to sit up, but his arm around me tightened.

“Going somewhere, little omega?”