I'm Damien

Lyra’s POV

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After leaving the hotel, I went back to my apartment, picked the most sultry dress I could lay my hands on, and did my makeup.

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No one will ever want you. His words rang in my head like a curse. I dug my nails into my palms until they hurt.

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Now wasn't the time to cry. Tonight I would prove him wrong, even if it destroyed me. That was how I ended up standing in front of a club, the one place I told myself I'd never go.

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The neon lights flickered, and the loud music almost made me dead as I pushed my way through the sweaty and drunk clubgoers to the bar.

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Omegas like me weren’t exactly welcome in places where power dripped like perfume, but right now, I didn’t care.

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If Killian could toss me aside, then I’d throw caution to the wind too, even if I had to give up my virginity tonight.For a moment, I just stood there, clutching my tiny purse, drowning in the chaos.

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What am I supposed to do now? I looked around. Was I supposed to walk up to a random stranger and just ask him to fuck me or what?

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"Hello, beautiful lady." The bartender called out in a loud voice, and I turned. He gestured towards the stool, and I slid onto a stool.

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The bartender gave me a quick nod, his eyes flicking over my dress but saying nothing.

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“Tequila,” I said, my voice harsher than I meant. He poured it into a shot glass, which I gulped at once. The first burn down my throat was awful, but it numbed the ache in my chest.

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By the second, I almost felt steady, and I was seeing double at least if I was drunk enough to walk up to any man.

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"How can a beautiful lady like you be here all alone?" A man in a half-buttoned shirt sat next to me. I could tell he was a Beta from his scent.

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"You're free to keep me company if you like." I downed another shot, almost choking on it.

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"Easy there." His right hand found its way to my thigh, caressing it gently. "Why don't we go upstairs and..." Wasn't I supposed to comply?

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Then tell me why I shoved this man away, almost sending him off his seat, before telling him never to touch me again without my permission. He cursed at me before storming off.

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Men came and went, but none caught my fancy. Another guy decided to try his luck. He had on a leather jacket, and he leaned too close, his breath sour with whiskey.

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“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be alone,” he said, his hand brushing my thigh like the first one had done.

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“Not interested.” I shoved him off, but my voice shook.

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He didn't take his hand off; instead, he took it further.“Playing hard to get, huh?”

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Before I could snap back at him, a shadow fell over us. A low, dangerous voice cut through the noise, startling the man.

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“She said no, so beat it.” The man stiffened. One look at the figure behind me, and he bolted like a scaredy-cat.

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I turned and in that moment forgot how to breathe. He was...I stared at him with my mouth hanging down. Tall, broad shoulders that filled his suit like it was made for him, dark hair falling carelessly over a face carved in sharp lines.

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His eyes, which were icy gray with a hint of silver, locked onto mine, steady, unreadable, like he could see every secret I tried to bury.

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Men like that don’t listen unless someone makes them,” he said smoothly as he slid into the seat next to me.

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My lips parted, my voice barely a whisper. “And you like being that someone?”

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A slow smirk curved his mouth. “Sometimes.”

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I should’ve looked away, thanked him, and carried my virgin ass out of there, but something glued me to my seat.

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Unlike the others, he didn't touch me, didn't look at my boobs that were in view, or try to make me come to bed with him.

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I swallowed hard, forcing boldness into my words. “You look like trouble, and just the man I’ve been looking for all night.”

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His smirk deepened. "Is that so?" He took a sip from his glass. "Are you looking for trouble?"

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My heart skipped. Yes, I didn’t say it out loud, but maybe my silence was enough, because he leaned closer, his voice brushing my ear over the loud music.

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"Careful, little wolf, I don't think you'll be able to handle me."

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Somehow, without me telling him, he knew what I was. Most wolves couldn’t scent me because my blood was masked and my wolf bound. But he… he knew.

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“Don’t call me that,” I managed to speak ,my throat tight. "I'm not a little wolf." I placed an arm on my throbbing head. The tequila was getting to me now.

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He tilted his head, studying me. “Why not? It’s what you are.”

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I lifted my chin, refusing to let him rattle me like he'd done to others. “And what are you? Besides, a man who likes scaring off drunk idiots.”

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For the first time, his smile almost looked genuine. “My name is Damien.”

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Damien, I muttered under my breath. What a good name for a drop-dead gorgeous man.

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"Lyra," I whispered before I could stop myself, and then I leaned closer, our lips an inch away. "We can get to know each other in other ways."

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His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Lyra,” he repeated, like testing the taste of it. “Beautiful name, but it doesn't fit the sadness in your eyes, though.”

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Heat crawled up my neck, and I backed away.“You don’t know me.”

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“No,” he agreed, finishing his drink. “But I’d like to.”

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I should’ve laughed it off or maybe walked away, but instead my drunk self stirred something reckless inside me.

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“You’re awfully confident. What if I said I was cursed? What if I said I’m not worth the trouble?”

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Damien’s eyes darkened, but not with disgust, but because he was interested. “Then I’d say curses don’t scare me, and trouble is exactly what I came here for.

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My breath hitched. This man was damn attractive, and Killian would eat his tongue when I sent him a picture of us together. So I leaned in, my lips nearly brushing his ear. “Take me home, unless you’re afraid of a cursed omega.”

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His hand, which was warm and firm, slid against my jaw, tilting my face toward him. His smirk was lethal, and his voice was low enough to make my pulse race.

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You have no idea who you’re daring, little wolf.”

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