CHAPTER 02: THE MORNING AFTER

VELARA’S POV

The instant I wake up, a piercing ache slashes through my skull. As soon as my eyes open, a dazzling stream of morning sunlight that is coming through sheer curtains attacks me strongly. The regret that weighs heavy in my chest is continuously echoed by the pounding in my mind, which feels like war drums. The room whips around me in a crazily nauseous blur, and I grunt hoarsely, suffering as I make myself sit up. Everything feels unfamiliar, deeply wrong.

My throat tightens with panic as I look around the room. Where the hell am I?

I take a deep breath, desperately willing my foggy brain to piece together the night before. Fragments return in jarring flashes: the annual Alpha meet-up, the grand masquerade ball filled with laughter, music, and too many glittering costumes. I remember my sister tugging my hand, both of us sneaking away from our parents’ watchful eyes to mingle with the other future Alphas. My father always pushes me to network, to bond with the powerful heirs of our world. “Make alliances. Know your competition,” he always says. After all, in just a few short months, I’ll take over the pack and become Alpha myself.

But then… nothing. A blank.

My heart races faster as the dread in my chest builds ferociously. I rub my temples, hoping the migraine doesn’t steal what little clarity I’m beginning to gain. My mouth is painfully dry, my skin clammy. The remnants of alcohol still burn in my bloodstream, making every movement gratingly sluggish and disoriented. I shift beneath the silky sheets, trying to sit up more, but then I freeze.

There’s an arm around me. A warm, muscular, undeniably male arm, heavy against my waist like a steel chain anchoring me to a mistake.

A cold wave of horror violently washes over me.

I jerk my head to the side, heart hammering in my chest as I silently pray that I’ll see my sister beside me. Maybe we passed out together somewhere in a drunken haze. Maybe this is just one of those ridiculous, embarrassing stories we’ll laugh about later.

But no.

The moment I lay eyes on the man beside me, I nearly scream.

Naked. Sleeping soundly. His dark, tousled hair spread over the pillow like a halo of sin. His arm still wrapped around me, like we’re lovers curled in an intimately shameful embrace. And then the final, cruel realization slams into me like a freight train.

Alpha Damon.

The Blood Alpha.

The man feared by most and respected by all. He’s the ruthless Alpha of the Ironclaw Pack, our sworn rivals, powerful, dominant, and utterly off-limits. And I, daughter of Alpha Viktor of the Shadowmoon Pack, am very naked next to him. I yank the sheet up to cover myself, heart in my throat, bile rising as I glance down.

No clothes. No memory. No mercy.

"Shit," I mumble, my voice shaking in shock.

I don't want to know, and the dull ache between my thighs tells me just that. I had intended to intentionally and meaningfully give up my virginity to a person of my choosing, but now it's gone. And not only gone, but surrendered in a haze I can’t even remember.

There’s no fairy tale here. No sweeping romance or fireworks. Just alcohol, poor decisions, and a man who should never have touched me.

What did I do?

What did we do?

I glance at his face again, trying to see him as a man instead of a legend, the Blood Alpha, who now unknowingly owns a part of me I can’t take back. I cover my mouth to stifle a bitterly sharp laugh, trying not to crumble under the weight of it all.

Of all the people in the world… it had to be him.

My father will kill me. No, he’ll slaughter him first, then disown me for good measure.

As reality mercilessly closes in, I grip the covers even more tightly. I must leave this place. I need answers. But first, I need to get as far away from Alpha Damon as I can before he wakes up.

And before I have to face the consequences of whatever the hell happened last night.

A sudden buzz jolts me out of my thoughts, the sound vibrating against the floor beside the bed like a warning shot. My eyes dart down, spotting the soft glow of my phone. With the grace of a drunken deer, I leap off the bed and clutch the carpet, almost slamming my face into it. When my sister's name appears on the screen, my heart begins to race even more.

I answer instantly, pressing the phone tight to my ear and whispering, “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you?” Astrid’s voice screeches through the speaker, high-pitched and frantic. “Dad is going ballistic! I told him you were with me last night, but now he’s demanding I come home, with you!”

I wince, pushing aside the sheet and quickly scanning the room again for some sort of landmark, anything that could help me orient myself. My eyes land on the window, and I shuffle toward it, squinting past the sunlight pouring in like a spotlight on my sins. The familiar skyline outside confirms my growing dread.

“I’m still at the Banks Hotel,” I mutter under my breath, furiously cursing.

There’s a pause on the other end. A sharp, dreadful silence that stretches for too long.

Then Astrid gasps. “Oh my God. Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Alpha douchebag,” she hisses.

I turn, slowly, glancing back at the bed where the so-called "douchebag" lies, sprawled out and dead to the world. Alpha Damon. The infamous Blood Alpha. His perfectly sculpted chest rises and falls in a peaceful rhythm, completely unaware that my life is collapsing right beside him.

His dark hair is a tousled mess, his lips slightly parted in slumber, and his arm is still stretched out like he’s possessively claiming the space we shared. The space I gave him.

I swallow the lump rising in my throat. If Dad finds out I ended up naked in the same bed as him, a man with a scandalous reputation, from a rival pack no less, I won’t survive it. Not socially. Maybe not literally. My father might actually conspire with Damon to kill me and make it look like an accident.

I force a breath out. “No, of course not,” I lie smoothly, keeping my voice light. “I just passed out in one of the rooms here. Alone.”

Astrid doesn’t answer right away, and I can already feel her suspicion crawling through the line. She’s not great at secrets and even worse at lying.

“Velara…” she says, her voice lower now. She knows I’m hiding something.

“Don’t start. If Dad questions you, just tell him I stayed with Lou and you,” I say firmly. “Keep it simple. Don’t complicate things.”

“Fine,” she sighs, defeated. “I’ll tell Lou to swing by. Be outside in five. Fix your face, cover the glitter, and try to look like you didn’t just get railed by the city’s most dangerous Alpha.”

Click.

I toss the phone onto the bed and move fast, heart hammering as I scoop up my clothes from the floor. The tight little black dress from last night is wrinkled and clings uncomfortably as I force it back on. I grab my heels, then glance down at the ridiculous fairy wings I wore as part of my costume.

"Absolutely not," I mutter, storming into the bathroom and tossing them into the trash like the shame they represent.

I flip the light on and stare at the reflection in the mirror. What greets me is both tragic and hilarious: glitter clings to every inch of my skin, like a crime scene dusted for fingerprints. The painted mask Astrid had drawn over my eyes is smeared, leaving streaks of blue and silver across my cheeks. My hair’s a tangled mess of curls, but not in a sexy, I-just-had-the-night-of-my-life way more like I lost a fight with a confetti cannon.

I run my fingers under the tap and dab at my cheeks, trying to salvage whatever’s left of my dignity. I laugh harshly, bitterly as I scrub at the glitter. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember talking to him. Damon. His voice, low, commanding, magnetic kept me grounded in the chaos of that party. I remember feeling drawn to him in a way I couldn’t explain, like the air around us cracked with electricity every time he looked at me.

But now? Now all I feel is shame, confusion, and a strange hint of curiosity.

I glance back at his sleeping form one last time.

He looks so… peaceful. Innocent, even. But we both know that’s a lie.

The worst part is, I don’t remember who leaned in first, who started what, or how far it went before I surrendered. For all I know, he might be waking up soon with the same questions, the same confusion. And that terrifying thought creeps into my mind like poison:

What if neither of us meant for this to happen?

And what if this one night, this one mistake, changes everything?

With one final glance at the sleeping Alpha sprawled across the bed, I clutch my heels in one hand, my clutch purse in the other, and resolutely steel myself as I bolt for the door. Every stride I take is accompanied by panic as my heart continues to pound in my chest. Desperate to get out before Damon wakes up and reality hits, I rip the door open in one quick stroke.

Instead, I slam directly into a wall of muscle.

I let out a shocked gasp as I crash into someone, hard. I stagger a little backward and blink up at the tall man who is now standing in the corridor, looking at me as if I've just landed.

It only takes a second to recognize him, Damon’s Beta. I remember him being introduced at last night’s event, though he likely wouldn’t remember me. I was tucked far in the back, hiding in the shadows as usual. Thank the Moon Goddess for the heavy makeup still painted on my face, between the glitter and the mask-like paint, he hopefully doesn’t see who I really am.

He quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glances behind me at the door I just burst through. “Let me guess... my Alpha’s inside?”

I drop my head and nod quickly, avoiding eye contact. I try to sidestep him, praying he won’t press for anything else.

But he speaks again, his voice dripping with sarcasm and curiosity. “You okay? Need a ride home?”

I freeze for a moment, blinking at him. Seriously?

I tilt my head and force a dryly wry smile. “What, do you offer rides to all of your Alpha’s overnight guests?”

He grins, clearly unbothered. “Nah. Only the pretty ones.”

I roll my eyes so hard it nearly gives me whiplash."Charming," I murmur, slipping by him before he has a brilliant idea about arranging a meeting or figuring out who I am.

With the weight of the night still pressing down on me like a second skin, I dash along the corridor without turning around. My father is probably pacing the floors by now, imagining the worst. And honestly? He wouldn’t be far off.

I need to find my sister, fast. Before Dad declares war just to find us.