Chapter 6

Nilah's Pov

Sarah didn’t even give me a chance to change my mind. She practically dragged me to her car, and minutes later, we were standing in front of a building that pulsed with a bass so deep I could feel it in my bones.

I gulped, “Is it too late to back out now?” I questioned Sarah whose only response was a beaming grin at me. Without further ado, she literally dragged/pulled me into the nightclub. As we stepped inside, the sensory assault was immediate. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweat, and spilled liquor. It was deafening. I flinched as bright light cut through the darkness, momentarily blinding me. For someone who spent her life in the silence of greenhouses and sterile labs, this was a chaotic nightmare.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Sarah yelled over the music, noticing my white-knuckled grip on my purse. "Go find a booth in the corner! I’ll grab us something strong!"

I nodded, weaving through the bodies on the dance floor. I felt like an animal standing in the middle of a stampede. I finally found a small, circular table tucked away in the shadows and sank into the velvet seat, drawing a shaky breath.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered under my breath, finally settling down.

“First time here?” Someone in front of me asked. It was the bartender.

“Mhm.”

“I understand. It's very loud so it's not easy to get used to it, but don't worry, it'll be a great night. I hope.” He added the last part after a moment's thought but I didn't ask what he meant. I had a feeling I was going to jinx my night if I asked.

Sarah returned minutes later with two vibrant blue drinks. "Drink up, Nilah! It helps with the nerves.”

“Thank you.” I took one of the glasses and downed the drink in one gulp, earning me a wide eyed stare from Sarah. The liquid burned a trail down my throat, but it did its job. It burned down everything I had felt earlier, I was quite thankful for that.

“Do you mind if I get a refill?” I said more to the bartender than to Sarah, but both of them nodded. I slid my glass towards the bartender who quickly refiled the glass with the same drink.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked.

“If you found out that your ‘mate’ had actually marked you with a fake mark, how would you feel? I feel like shit, Sarah.”

“I'm sorry.”

“And that's not all.” I said with a murmur, “my whole life has been a conspiracy and right now, I don't even know what to do about it. I…”

“Hello there pretty ladies.” Two men, tall and smelling of stale beer, interrupted our conversation and loomed over our table. I had a problem with over sharing, so their interruption was quietly thanked inwardly. However, they themselves were bad news. One had a crooked grin that didn't reach his eyes; the other looked at us like we were items on a menu.

"You ladies look far too gloomy for a place like this," the first one said, leaning his hand on the table. "How about a dance? We’ll brighten your night."

"No, thank you," I said, my voice cold and sharp. "We're busy."

"Oh, come on, sweetheart," the second one chimed in, reaching out to touch Sarah’s shoulder. "Don't be like that. We just want to have some fun."

Sarah brushed his hand off with a snarl. "She said no. I'm saying no. That’s two votes for you to get lost."

The man’s face darkened, his ego clearly bruised. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my face. "You Omegas are all the same. You act all high and mighty until someone puts you in your place. Why play hard to get? We know you're just looking for someone to pay your tab, or maybe something a little more intimate. I'm sure I can make you scream your pretty little voice out.”

The lewdness in his tone triggered a spark of the rage I’d been suppressing. I stood up, my eyes narrowing into slits. "The only thing I’m looking for is a trash can to dump you in," I fired back, my voice cutting through the thumping bass. "You're pathetic. Do you really have so little to offer that you have to harass women who clearly find you repulsive? Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of before you embarrass yourself further. You stink of rotten trash."

The man’s eyes turned bloodshot. "You little…! How dare you speak to me like that?! You fucking bitch!” He raised his hands and before I knew it, there was a ringing in my ears. The slap was sudden and stinging. My head snapped to the side, the force of the blow ringing in my ears. I stumbled back, the world spinning.

"Nilah!" Sarah screamed. She was on her feet in an instant, shoving the man back with a strength that caught him off guard. She stepped in front of me, shielding my body with hers. "Touch her again and I'll kill you!"

“Ohhh.” The two men laughed. “She's a little spitfire. I like that.”

“What are you going to do? It's better for you to just shut up and enjoy the ride," the larger man sneered, his eyes dropping to Sarah's chest with a disgusting hunger. Before she could even snap back, he lunged forward. His hands grabbed Sarah’s breasts, squeezing them with force that made her gasp in pain and shock. He laughed, a guttural, wet sound that turned my stomach. "See? Much better when you stop fighting."

At the same time, the one who had slapped me didn't wait. He grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides as he hauled me against his chest.

The smell of sour beer and sweat was overwhelming. "Now, let’s see if that mouth is good for anything other than insults," he hissed, his face descending toward mine as he tried to force a kiss on me. Anger sliced through my shock. My hand darted to the table, my fingers curling around the stem of my half-empty glass. With a snarl, I slammed the glass on the table and I drove the broken glass upward, stabbing it into the back of his hand.

He let out a blood-curdling howl as the glass bit deep. His grip slackened, and I ripped myself away from him. I didn't stop there. Seeing the other man still manhandling Sarah, I pivoted, putting my weight into a kick. My heel connected squarely with his ribs, the force sending him staggering back and away from her.

"Come here!" I barked at Sarah, pulling her shaking frame into the shadow of my protection.

The two men were panting now, their faces contorted into masks of malice. The one I had stabbed clutched his bleeding hand, his eyes glowing a dangerous, feral red.

"You're dead," he wheezed. "You're fucking dead!”

The one I had stabbed grabbed an unopened bottle of wine from the table next to him and threw it at us with an angry howl.

I braced myself for the impact, even if it hit me, it wouldn't hurt me that much and I would heal quickly. But the crash never happened.

Instead, it was as if things went in slow motion. The bottle was right in front of me, ready to hit me, but then, a scent enveloped me. It washed all over my senses, pulling me deeper and deeper without me even realising it. I breathed it in unconsciously, my fingers twitching from the impact of the scent flooding me. Inside my mind, a voice that had been silent for years suddenly stirred. My wolf, usually a quiet presence, never speaking, never moving, a wolf I thought I had lost forever suddenly hummed.

“Mate...” she whispered, her voice filled with a reverence and happiness that made my knees weak. I opened my eyes. The bottle hadn't hit us; it had been caught mid-air by a large, gloved hand. I looked up, and my breath hitched in my throat. Standing before us was a man who seemed to command the very air he breathed.