Chapter 1: WHAT'S GOING ON? 

GIA O'LEARY 

I grabbed onto the shiny pole in the center of the curbed area in the strip club, just as every other night, this was supposed to be easy. 

My eyes scanned my audience through my mask, a habit to be certain no one in the crowd was familiar enough to recognize me even with the mask on. 

I was on display just as every other Friday night, the sickening gazes of these lustful men devoured me ravenously like cackling flames, their leering faces bore unmasked lust. 

Cheers erupted from the crowd, 'Black Swan' getting chanted from the dark corners of the bar, excited to finally have me on display for them. Wild display. 

The dim lights cast a golden glow on my skin, accentuating every curve in me as I twirled around the pole. 

I knew all of the regulars by heart, these boisterous lecherous men ogling at every move I made by the pole were regulars. 

But tonight, the sudden change of air at the bar stemmed from the unfamiliar face in the VIP area, his piercing green eyes dwelt on the ring, his chiseled jawlines tight, curiosity etched on his sensuous lips as I grabbed onto the pole and began to sway. 

From the second I waltzed towards the shiny pole in nothing but a custom-made stripper suit— a gift from one of my weirdly obsessed fans, and the black swan mask hiding my face, the crowd went wild, chanting my stage name, but it wasn’t their cheers that threw me off.

It was this man in a nicely tailored brown coat and an air of dominance around him, a frigid expression on his harshly attractive face that seemed  to make me go all out just to appeal to his vision. 

He didn’t cheer. Didn’t grin. Unlike the rest of the men in the bar, this man didn't ogle. 

And somehow, that felt way more threatening and somewhat exhilarating. 

The crowd as usual were at the edges of their seats in gross anticipation, entranced by every seductive move I made in the ring, generous patrons emptying their fat wallets ogling with uncaged desire yet, this tall and stoic looking man just sat there in his Armani coat, his gaze polite and I could see his mind was only half with me. 

Did he know who I was? 

None of these men knew who I was for my safety and mostly my reputation. I couldn't risk rumors flying around town that one of Keegan O'Leary, the High Priest's daughter, was a stripper at a bar outside the ClawVille pack. That would certainly cost my head. 

I couldn't let anyone know I had the crescent-shaped birthmark engraved on my back. If I did then the bad guys were coming for me. 

I concealed this mark perfectly with a fake tattoo sticker but tonight, just the full coverage beauty foundation was left to do the trick, the dragon fake tattoo stickers went missing from my supplies at home. One of my snoopy and evil sisters must've taken it. 

Tonight felt different, and I really hoped the anxiety bubbling inside me wouldn’t show in my performance. I knew I was the crowd's favorite for a reason, but this time, I could feel the weight of self-awareness hanging over me.

My gaze swept back to the only man in the bar that made my skin prickly with aimless anticipation. 

There was no doubt he was different and distinguished, making it difficult for him to blend in with the regulars. Who could he be?

I didn't give my absolute best in the performance tonight but why did these men empty their pockets and cheer like I was high on adrenaline rush?

His challenging eyes roved over my sheeny skin to every move I made on the pole to settle on my masked face as though daring me to take the mask off.

The entire crowd blurred out and it felt like it was just us two in the bar, his distant brows effortlessly won him all of my attention. 

Some burly men walked into the club, their gazes darting around every table but dared not get closer to the VIP. They came in when I was off the pole heading towards the locker room. I confirmed the lock to the bathroom door to be sure I didn't have to deal with a pervert while in the shower. I washed off the sweats and the leering gazes of men on my skin, tried to block off their comments about my body. 

Men were the most dangerous creatures and the best thing a girl could do was to avoid them as much as possible. 

Keegan wasn't wrong on this. I saw the truth in his words every time I came here. These drunken messes were no good. 

I stepped out of the changing room with my carry-on bag, off for the weekend. I just couldn't wait to get home and stretch. The money in my bag utterly uplifting. If things continued this way I'd be going to college earlier than I imagined. 

As I was about to walk past the janitor's closet, the door swung open, and a firm hand grabbed my wrist, yanking me inside.

A scream almost tore from my throat, but a large, calloused palm sealed my lips before a sound could escape. I struggled, my black swan mask slapping uselessly against his bulging arm. My pulse spiked, fear clashing with the heat radiating from the stranger pressing me into the dimly lit space.

"Shh, keep quiet," he said, his deep voice gravelly and urgent. "I need your help."

Help him?

"Just stay still. It's the only way we both make it out of this."

What?

He shrugged off his coat and tossed it behind a pile of baskets.

"I can't shift, my wolf's going through a phase and they're bad guys so you just have to help..." His hand tore my dress apart and my hands connected with his hard jaw. 

The heavy footsteps thudding in the hallway and the loud bangs on stall doors made me weak in the knees. My heart in a weird way hoped for this hunky guy before me to defend me. 

I met his gaze. Right then, I recognized him. 

My least entertained audience. My guards were down for a bit, my nerves reeling as I grew aware of our proximity, somewhat flattered to have him here with me. His heavy breathing brushed against my face as he leaned in closer.

"What—" I tried to ask, but his fingers gripped my jaw, tilting my chin up just as the footsteps drew dangerously near.

He left me with no options.

In a swift, deliberate motion, he pulled me toward the bed, his body pressing me down as he towered over me. My breath caught in my throat as his warmth enveloped me, the intensity in his green eyes stealing the air from my lungs.

"Make it look convincing," was all he said before he made an unexpected move to seal our lips in an ardent kiss.  

The initial shock of his lips against mine faded, replaced by an overwhelming urge to respond to his sweet invasion.

Nothing seemed to matter to me but this moment, not even the alarming noise of the stall doors down the hall bursting open or his rough hands that continued to rip my dress off to expose my satin skin, leaving me completely exposed.  

This was wrong, against everything I stood for. Getting this involved with a man was a sin in the eyes of the goddess, stripper or not, but this sin felt better than any thrill I'd ever experienced.

My heart raced as he lifted me and pressed me against the bed, securing my legs around his waist. His lips explored, tasted, and sought with his tongue sliding and teasing inside my mouth, transforming the kiss into a fiery, insatiable encounter. He tasted intoxicating, like tequila and a dream come true.  

This was everything and way better than I'd dreamt my first kiss would be but nothing in my wildest fantasy would've made me suggest it'd be with a total stranger out of the blue here at the club. 

His arm encircled my waist possessively, pulling me closer to his solid frame as he continued to ravage my mouth with his lips and tongue.

A moan escaped from deep within me.

His lips left mine to wander the supple of my neck and in the heat of the moment our door flew open but he didn't stop his assault on my neck even though I grew vastly aware of the company we had 

Two imposing men with red eyes loomed at the entrance, their expressions fierce and menacing. One wielded a silver axe, while the other brandished a pistol.

This wasn't good! But we didn't pull apart from each other. 

The stack of baskets shielded us a bit from their drilling gazes but we didn't go undetected. I heard their curses and turned back from the closet, but the kiss lingered on. Not yet over. 

His hand explored my body, and after a moment, he withdrew, pulled out his phone from his pocket, sent a text, and was about to step out of the closet but turned to face me.

"You did incredibly well. Leave immediately." He exited the janitor's closet, his powerful hands extended.

It all transpired in an instant.

Shaking, it took me a couple of minutes to gather my thoughts. My dress was torn and ruined, and his discarded coat became my only option.

Then it hit me—my mark. I'd just been exposed. 

Who was that man and why were those vicious men after him?