CHAPTER 2

Sera

“Go away,” My voice came out rough from whiskey and humiliation.

Then I looked at him. My stomach flipped. He was tall. Not just tall.. he was towering.

His hair was black, tousled like he had been running his fingers through it.  But it was his eyes that stopped me. Silver-gray. Pale as winter moons. 

Up close, he looked even more dangerous. Expensive black coat. Broad shoulders. Long fingers resting against the counter like he owned everything around him.

“I don’t think you really want to be alone right now,” he muttered.

I laughed bitterly and grabbed my drink.

“What gave it away? The crying? Or the fact that I look like my life just exploded?”

His mouth twitched. “Mostly the way you keep staring at the door like you expect someone to come after you.”

My grip tightened around the glass. Damn him for noticing.

“I said go away.”

“And I heard you.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because,” he whispered, leaning closer, “you look like you’re about five seconds away from doing something reckless.”

I shrugged. Maybe. Maybe not. I threw back the rest of my whiskey.

His silver-gray eyes darkened. For some reason, heat crept up my neck.

God.

I barely knew this man and yet every time he looked at me, it felt like he was peeling pieces off me one layer at a time.

The bartender approached carefully.“You want another?”

“Yes.”

“No,” the stranger said at the same time.

I glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve had enough.”

I barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

"No. You're not," he corrected.

The bartender awkwardly slid the drink toward me anyway before disappearing. Good choice. I grabbed the glass immediately.

Silence stretched between us for a moment. The music in the bar thumped heavily around us while people laughed and danced like the world wasn’t cruel.

I hated all of them a little.

“You want to tell me what happened?” he asked finally.

“No.”

A beat passed.

Then I found myself spilling everything. Rylan's coldness, Dorian's mockery, the pack whispering Barren Luna like it was my name. How I walked in on them.

“I spent years trying to be enough for him,” I shook my head. “I blamed myself for everything. For not giving him an heir. For not being stronger. Prettier. Better.”

My throat tightened.

“And the entire time…” My voice broke. “The entire time he never even wanted me.”

The stranger's eyes flashed red but it was possible that I imagined that because for a moment he looked like he was angry.

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that,” he said.

I scoffed. “You don’t even know me.”

“No,” he nodded. “But I know broken things when I see them.”

My heart was beating so fast. I looked away quickly before he could see the tears threatening again.

Absolutely not. I was done crying tonight.

“I think you should leave,” I muttered and instead of arguing, he stood.

I sighed in relief. Then he held out his hand.

I blinked. "What?"

His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “You’re not nothing.”

The softness in his voice nearly destroyed me. I looked away fast. Big mistake. Because suddenly he was closer.

Much closer. I hadn’t even seen him move.

“You should stop looking at me like that,” I whispered shakily.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like…” I swallowed. “Like you want to know what I taste like.”

I raised my head to meet his eyes. "And I want you to kiss me right now."

It was suddenly so hard to breathe. Why would I say this to a stranger?

I raised my hand to touch his face. So soft. His eyes darkened, pupils dilated but he didn't move. 

“You're vulnerable,” he said quietly, removing my hands from his face.“You're hurt. If I touched you now, you'd regret it tomorrow.”

Regret? 

I stood up from my chair. The space between us now was so small that my chest almost brushed his.

“You're a stranger,” I said. “I'll never see you again. You don't know my name. I don't know yours. There are no consequences here."

His breath hitched. Just slightly.

I reached up. Grabbed his face with both hands. His jaw was rough with short hairs. His skin was warm. His eyes, those silver-gray eyes, widened.

Without any second thought, I kissed him.

He froze for one second. He didn't kiss back and I thought I had made a big mistake. 

Then he groaned. 

His hands shot up, fisted in my hair and he pulled. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to tilt my head back. Hard enough to tell me he was in control now. 

He kissed me like a starving man. 

His mouth was demanding. Consuming. He bit my lower lip and swallowed my gasp. One hand slid from my hair to my waist, then lower, gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. 

The other pressed flat against the small of my back, arching me into him.

I moaned. I couldn't help it. No one had ever kissed me like this before. 

Then he pulled back just long enough to flip us. My back hit the counter. He pinned me there, his body a wall of heat and muscle.

And his eyes flashed red.

Wait. 

Not the red of anger. The red of power. Royal. My wolf, weak and timid my entire life, cowered in submission.

I felt his presence press against my mind. 

Oh, gods.

My hands flew to his chest and pushed back. He grabbed my hands and didn't move. 

“You're...” My voice came out a squeak. “You're the...”

“Lycan King?” he finished, voice low and rough. “Yes.”

I tried to pull away. My wolf screamed at me to run, but my body was traitorously weak. 

“Let me go,” I whispered.

He leaned in. His lips brushed the tip of my ear. His breath was hot.

“Too late.”