Chapter 2: One Night And A Mark

Lunessa's POV

Liora bowed. I blinked, stunned. Liora? Bowing?

She lowered her head toward the stranger before signaling to the guards to release me, and walked away.

He turned to face me, by the gods, he was the most breathtaking man I had ever seen. Not just handsome, otherworldly. Like he’d stepped out of a myth. His features were sharp, regal. His aura pulsed with unshakable power.

‘You’re being awkward. Close your mouth,’ Due said through the mindlink.

I snapped out of my daze and quickly bowed my head.

“Thank you,” I said politely.

He tilted his head slightly. “Do you want to go upstairs for a drink?”

That voice, deep, velvety and commanding. The kind of voice that could make kingdoms bend or bring wolves to heel.

I glanced around, eyes were still on me. Whispers are still floating. I needed to escape.

“Yes,” I replied softly.

He led me to the elevator. Neither of us spoke as the elevator ascended. Floor after floor passed until we reached the very top, the penthouse.

My brows lifted slightly. The penthouse? Kellan is throwing an engagement party and didn’t book the penthouse?

‘Maybe this man’s more powerful than Kellan,’ Due said happily. ‘He probably wanted the penthouse, and your dear Alpha had no choice but to step down.’

The thought made me smile faintly.

He opened the door and gestured for me to enter. Inside, the space was tastefully elegant. He motioned toward a plush sofa, and I took a seat, still slightly tense.

“Forgive my manners,” he said. “I’m Azrik.”

“Lunessa,” I replied.

“Let me get us something to drink,” he offered, moving toward a sleek liquor rack tucked in the corner.

‘Azrik? That name doesn’t ring a bell,’ I said to Due.

‘Maybe he’s from far regions. He doesn’t smell like us.’

He returned with two glasses and poured the drink. Then, without invading my space, he sat beside me, close enough to offer comfort, but not close enough to intrude.

I stared at the amber liquid in my glass before speaking.

“Kellan is my ex,” I said, voice quiet. “That’s why Liora tried to humiliate me.”

Azrik met my eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he said gently.

And just like that, I exhaled. The tension slipped from my shoulders. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it was soothing.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Too beautiful even, like a goddess.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. I wasn’t even trying tonight. I felt broken, yet somehow, this stranger saw me.

“You don’t look familiar,” I said.

Azrik smiled. “I’m from a very distant region. One I’d like to show you someday.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “What region is that?”

He shrugged with a cryptic smile. “It’ll be a surprise.”

Something about the way he said it sent a curious thrill down my spine. I smiled and took a slow sip of my drink.

‘Are you going to chitchat all day or kiss him already?’ Due asked through the mindlink, her tone completely unserious.

I nearly choked.

Azrik leaned in concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I coughed lightly, waving a hand.

“Your face is flushed,” he said. “Do you feel sick?”

‘Damnit, Due!’

‘Oh well,’ she sang, clearly amused. ‘I’ll leave you to clean up the mess.’ And with that, she retreated to the back of my mind.

I smiled weakly, trying to compose myself. “I’m fine, really.”

Azrik didn’t press further. He kept complimenting me, slipping in silly stories that made me laugh so hard. He didn't for once check his phone, or get distracted. He gave me all the attention. His voice wove through the haze of my wine, until I was tipsy, my body loose, and my guard long gone.

I shifted closer to him on the couch, our thighs brushing. I looked up into his eyes, and without thinking, my gaze followed a path I couldn’t stop. Left eye, lips, right eye. The triangle. And gods, he noticed.

Azrik leaned in slowly, and when his lips finally met mine, the kiss was soft, achingly soft. The kind that makes your breath catch and your heart forget how to beat.

I melted into him, our mouths moving in rhythm as though we’d done this a thousand times. Our hands found each other’s bodies like we were rediscovering something lost.

He lifted me effortlessly, holding me against his hips, and carried me toward the bedroom. He laid me gently on the bed. His touch was grounding, his kisses tender and deep, igniting every nerve in me. His voice, low and husky in my ear, only drove the fire deeper.

He slid off his shirt, and I gasped softly. Tattoos coiled from his left hand up to his chest, elegant, mysterious and dangerously beautiful.

He undressed me with care, never rushing, never breaking eye contact. When his hands found my body, it wasn’t lust, it was reverence. His thumbs brushed over my breasts with a gentleness that sent shivers down my spine, before he slowly descended between my thighs.

When his tongue found me, I cried out, fingers tangled in his hair, back arched against the sheets. He devoured me with worshipful patience, like my pleasure was his only purpose. And when he rose again to kiss me, I moaned into his mouth, tasting myself on his lips, the heat in me pulsed harder.

“Are you sure about this?” Azrik asked between kisses, after noticing I was a virgin.

“Yes,” I whispered, breathless. “Have me. Please.”

My body was begging, aching to be his. He kissed me, then eased forward. He didn’t rush, didn’t push. He teased gently, letting his tip glide against me, in and out, until my body welcomed him.

Little by little, he pressed deeper, giving me time to adjust, to stretch around his length. My breath came in short, broken gasps as the pleasure slowly built, full and overwhelming.

Our moans tangled in the dark, his body moving with mine like a tide. I was wanted. I was worshipped.

When it was over, I lay against his chest breathless. His fingers traced soft patterns along my skin, grounding me in the afterglow.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently, his voice brushing my ear.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He kissed my forehead and pulled me close, like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go. Wrapped in his warmth, his scent, his soft murmurings, I drifted into sleep.

Morning came quietly. The light filtered through the curtains, brushing over my bare skin. I stirred, smiling as I inhaled the lingering scent of him, the memory of last night still humming through my body.

But when I turned to the other side of the bed, he was gone. I sat up sharply, heart thudding in my chest. He must be in the bathroom. I scrambled to check, my feet barely touching the ground, it was empty.

I turned back to the room, his clothes gone. The glass he drank from vanished. His scent faint. He hadn’t just left, he’d disappeared. Panic coiled in my chest.

“Okay… okay, calm down,” I muttered to myself. “It was just a one-night stand. That’s all.”

But as I moved toward the mirror I froze. There, on the curve of my neck, etched into my skin was a mark. My eyes widened in horror.

Azrik marked me.