Chapter 2

Zahra's POV

‘Heads up, team. The group of rogues just walked in.’ Ed’s voice cuts through the link. ‘Zahra, keep your position. Let’s see if they approach you.’

‘Roger that,’ I link back, steadying my breathing.

We keep dancing. The music shifts tempo, but I follow the rhythm easily, matching the others’ movements. Training really does help with this—knowing how to control every muscle, how to move deliberately. The dance floor is packed now, a pulsing mass of heat and noise. Bodies press in on all sides, and I feel the brush of strangers’ skin as the crowd tightens.

A guy moves up behind Talia, sliding his hands to her hips. She glances back, grins, then turns again, pressing herself against him as they move together. Her short dress rides up slightly, and I pray to the goddess he doesn’t start fingering her right here in front of us.

There are men all around now, drifting closer in groups. The energy is intense, almost predatory. It prickles along my skin, making me hyperaware of every touch, every shift in the air. I push down my unease as I spot Morgan, Lance, and Gavin—all still in place, within reach if I need them. Good.

Then I feel it. A hand slides across my waist. I look down, then over my shoulder, and meet a pair of piercing blue eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners as he smiles at me—gods, that smile. He’s hot. Really fucking hot. High cheekbones, full lips, dark brows, and hair the color of burnished bronze falling messily across his forehead. Light stubble shadows his jaw, and when he grins, dimples appear that make my stomach flutter.

He leans in, his chest brushing against my back, his mouth grazing my ear. “Hi, gorgeous. Want to dance?” His voice is deep and husky, his breath warm against my skin. His lips brush my earlobe as he speaks, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.

I take a subtle sniff, testing his scent—trying to see if he’s one of the rogues. But there’s no trace of rot or decay. He smells like cedar and lime, edged with leather from his jacket. Fresh. Familiar. Comforting. Beneath it, though, there’s something else. Human. Or close enough that it’s hard to tell through the haze of alcohol and sweat.

I turn back around like Talia did, letting him pull me flush against him. His hands find my hips, guiding me in time with his. Zanthe stirs instantly, alert and growling low in my mind. Someone other than our mate is touching us, and she doesn’t like it. But she knows—it’s part of the job.

‘Stay calm,’ I murmur to her silently, even as my heart starts to pound. 

I feel him pull me closer, my ass swaying against his crotch as his breathing changes and his fingers dig in slightly. The heat between us is almost tangible, but not in a way that feels pleasant.

Evie whoops across the circle, grinding against some other guy, her arm looped around his neck while he kisses a line down her throat. Corrine’s practically making out with her dance partner, while Briar and Talia are already lost to their own little worlds—Briar’s moving against her guy, his knee pressed between hers, and Talia looks like she’s trying to devour hers. The whole scene is a blur of limbs, heat, and sound.

The guy behind me groans softly, and I feel him harden against me. Discomfort spikes in my gut, but I can’t just pull away. Not without risking the operation. I glance up and catch Morgan’s eyes across the floor.

‘How are you doing, Zahra?’ she asks through the link. Thank fuck she gets me.

‘Erm… fine, I guess. Do we know who these guys are? Are they involved?’ I ask, trying to keep my tone casual as I move with him.

‘No,’ Edwardo’s voice cuts in. ‘They’re not part of the group of rogues we tracked coming in. They arrived about five minutes before. Can you tell me anything?’

‘This one smells mostly human,’ I reply, forcing myself to keep moving with the beat. ‘I can’t scent rogue on the others either, but it’s hard to say for sure in here. The air’s too thick with alcohol and sweat. The only shifters I can clearly smell are the girls.’

‘Good. Stay with it for now,’ Ed orders.

‘You don’t have to keep dancing if you’re uncomfortable, Zahra,’ Morgan says gently, and I nearly sag with relief.

‘It’ll look suspicious if she stops now,’ Lance argues immediately.

‘No, it’ll look like she’s a girl getting a drink,’ Morgan snaps back. ‘You shouldn’t push her, Ed. She’s seventeen for fuck’s sake.’

Silence follows, heavy and awkward. I keep moving, my skin crawling now. The guy behind me grinds his cock against me again, and bile creeps up my throat.

‘I’ll let you make the call, Zahra,’ Ed finally says. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, pull out.’

Great. So it’s on me. If I break cover, it’s my fault. I exhale through my nose, counting beats in the music.

“Can I buy you a drink, babe?” the guy yells near my ear. Relief floods through me. Finally, a break. The grinding can stop.

I turn slightly and smile, nodding. Then I motion to the girls, miming a drinking gesture—universal for bar. Corrine catches it and nods, though the others are too wrapped up in their own hook-ups to notice.

I start moving across the dance floor toward the bar nearest Morgan. The guy falls into step behind me, his hand possessively settling on my hip. Corrine follows, her guy’s arm draped over her shoulder.

We reach the bar, the music still pounding through the floorboards. “What can I get you, babe?” he croons, leaning close enough for his breath to brush my neck.

“Just a bottle of water, please,” I say into his ear, my voice almost lost under the music. He nods, signaling the bartender with a flick of his hand.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asks, leaning in close so his breath brushes my cheek.

“Zoe,” I answer, my mouth near his ear so he can hear me over the bass. As my lips graze his skin, I see goosebumps break out along his neck.

He smiles, his hand sliding to the small of my back. “My name’s Mike,” he says, voice low and rumbling through his chest. Before I can react, he closes the distance between us and kisses me. His lips are soft, tasting faintly of cherry and mint—sweet but strange. When he pulls back, he flashes me that devastating smile again, and somehow, I smile back.

I feel a little buzzed, a little lighter than I was before. Goddess, maybe his smile really is that good. The kiss was fine, nice even, but it didn’t make my toes curl like the ones I’ve had before. Then again, it’s been years since I last kissed anyone like that.

Mike—no, Matt? Did he say Mike?—slides his hand around mine and guides me back toward the dance floor, pressing the unopened bottle of water into my free hand. We stop by the railing overlooking the dance floor. He leans against it, facing me, his body angled close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Over his shoulder, I spot Corrine still at the bar with her guy. They’re kissing, her fingers tangled in his hair, his hands on her ass. I watch her push him back toward the booths.

‘Corrine is heading back to the seating area. Lance, can you stay close?’ I link.

‘Already on it,’ Lance replies.

I glance toward the dance floor again. The others are still there, dancing and kissing with their partners. Briar is dancing pressed between two guys now, both of them grinding their bodies against her's. after her earlier stories, and now i know her preference for threesomes, i'm fairly confident where that's going. 

Mike shifts his weight, his hand brushing mine again. “So then, Zoe,” he says with a smile, “you a student here?”

I nod, looking up at him. “Yep. You?”

“Yeah, second year. Chemical engineering. You?”

“First year. Business,” I reply, trying not to stare too long at his mouth when he smiles again.

“Cool. Want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk?” His grin widens, goddess he's hot.   The bass thrums between us, and I can’t quite tell if the haze in my head is from the music, the shots, or him.

I feel that I shouldn’t, part of me knows I need to stay right here, close to the team, where I can see all the girls. But for some reason, the rational part of my brain isn’t very loud right now. I grin and nod. I take Matt’s hand and lead him toward our booth from before.

Corrine and her guy are still in the darker seating area, pressed up against the wall, kissing like they’re starving. I spot Lance nearby, beer bottle in hand, pretending to watch the dance floor, but I know he’s keeping tabs on her. Matt leans down, his lips brushing my neck as we step into the shadows. His hand slides lower from my waist, trailing toward my ass, while the other drifts down to the hem of my skirt.

I know this isn’t what I want. I know I should stop him. But my body feels warm, heavy, and his touch feels too good. Every nerve hums as his fingers skim my skin. I want to kiss him again, to feel that rush, to drown in it. I turn and loop my arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. His mouth claims mine, rough and hungry, his tongue forcing its way in. I groan as I feel him harden against me. Fuck, I want him. Right now.

We move together, and suddenly my feet are shifting. I can feel us walking, but I can’t tell where. Everything feels hazy. The lights blur, the air thickens, and the pounding bass fades into the background.

‘Zahra, I’ve lost eyes on you. Where did you go?’ Morgan’s voice cuts through the link.

But I’m too lost in the heat of his mouth to answer. Zanthe’s growl echoes faintly in the back of my mind, but it’s like I’m underwater, her voice distant and muffled. I can’t focus on anything except Matt’s lips, his hands, the warmth of his body pressed against mine. My back hits something solid—a wall—and he presses me into it, his chest hard against my breasts.

My fingers tangle in his hair, soft and damp with sweat, and I revel in the texture. His hand slides up my thigh under my dress, the heat of his skin against mine making me shudder. There’s a sharp sting at my hip, but it barely registers as his other hand traces higher. My thoughts blur, slipping through my fingers. The room tilts.

‘Zahra, report.’ Ed’s voice flickers faintly in the back of my head, but I can’t answer. My link feels distant, like someone’s stuffed cotton between my thoughts. The air spins. My body feels too heavy, my mind sluggish.

The lights explode suddenly, blinding and white. Cold air rushes over my skin, and I blink, disoriented. Matt’s no longer pressed against me. The space around me feels vast and empty. I stumble, my legs unsteady, the heels making it worse. My body feels hot again, the ache between my legs pulsing stronger than before. A moan slips out unbidden as confusion swirls. Where the fuck am I? Where’s Matt?

I struggle to focus my eyes, and I see him in front of me, smiling that dazzling smile again. I reach for him just as something heavy drops over my head, cutting off my vision. The fabric stinks, acrid and chemical, and I cough as the smell burns down my throat. Shit. A scent blocker. My nose and lungs sting, and I can already feel it numbing my sense of smell.

My mind fights through the fog, trying to claw back control. I know what this means. I’m in deep shit.

‘Ed, I’ve been taken!’ I scream through the link, but there’s nothing. Silence. Just static buzzing at the edge of my thoughts.

‘Morgan? Lance? Henry? Is anyone there?’ I try again, desperation flooding through me. Still nothing. The link’s gone—dead space where their presence should be.

‘Zanthe?’ I call, panic threading through my voice. No response. The silence in my head is worse than anything. I’ve never felt so alone.

There’s another sharp prick, this time at the base of my neck. The heat in my body swells, then fades into a slow, heavy drag. My limbs feel thick, my thoughts like they’re wading through mud. I can’t move. I can’t even lift my head. My knees buckle, and I pitch forward, but strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. Then everything goes black.