The Alpha I Should Never Have Met

If I had known that stepping into that nightclub would change my life forever, I never would have opened its doors.

I always believed that bad luck had its limits.

It turned out I was wrong.

This morning, my landlord threw me out of my apartment because I could no longer afford the overdue rent. I tried to explain that I only needed a little more time, but the old man refused to listen. To him, money mattered more than any excuse I could offer.

My belongings were tossed into the hallway as if I were nothing more than a nuisance. As if I were not a tenant who had spent the last two years living there.

By the afternoon, I lost my job.

"Congratulations, Lira," I muttered bitterly. "In a single day, you managed to lose both your home and your job."

And now, tonight, I stood alone on a city sidewalk with a small suitcase and a future I was too afraid to think about.

The night wind brushed against my face as I stared at the distant skyline. Towering skyscrapers stretched into the darkness, their lights glittering like man made stars. They looked beautiful from afar, yet felt painfully cold when you were standing among them.

A quiet laugh escaped my lips.

The sound felt strange even to my own ears.

Perhaps because there was nothing remotely amusing about my life anymore.

My phone still displayed the last message from the café manager.

"We cannot keep an employee who damages the reputation of this establishment."

I read the message for what felt like the hundredth time before locking the screen.

There was no point.

The words would not change.

Just as the reality of being unemployed would not change.

Just as the fact that my savings were nowhere near enough to rent even the cheapest room in the city would not change.

For a moment, I considered calling someone.

Then I remembered there was no one to call.

I grew up in an orphanage.

I had no family.

No siblings.

And most of my college friends were struggling to pay their own living expenses.

A bright red neon sign glowed above a nearby entrance.

MOONLIGHT CLUB

The heavy pulse of music could be heard even from outside the building.

I stopped walking.

Normally, I would never step into a place like that. I certainly was not the type to waste money on things that were not necessary.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, I was too exhausted to think rationally.

Too exhausted to worry about bills.

Too exhausted to worry about the future.

I just wanted to stop feeling broken.

In another part of the city, someone was fighting a monster hidden beneath his skin.

The highest floor of Moonlight Club was surrounded by dark glass walls overlooking the sea of city lights below.

Inside one of the private VIP rooms, a man stood alone before the floor-to-ceiling window.

He was tall.

Powerfully built.

Dressed in an expensive black suit that looked flawless to anyone who saw him.

Yet that flawless appearance was nothing more than a mask.

Because beneath his human exterior, something was trying to break free.

Lucan Fiermox gripped the edge of a table so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His breathing was heavy.

Uneven.

The gray color of his eyes slowly reflected flashes of silver.

Several men dressed in black stood behind him, their expressions tense.

Not one of them dared to speak.

They recognized the signs.

They had witnessed them countless times before.

The transformation.

"I can control it."

Lucan's voice was low.

Dangerously low.

As though he were speaking more to himself than to anyone else in the room.

"Alpha..."

One of the men finally found the courage to speak.

"We should return to Silvermoon territory."

"No."

Lucan's answer came instantly.

"Leave me alone. And wait for the woman who was arranged for tonight."

His voice was cold.

Absolute.

The man immediately fell silent.

No one argued further.

They all knew that when Lucan spoke in that tone, the decision had already been made.

****

The moment the door opened, a wave of music and the sharp scent of alcohol rushed toward me.

Blue and purple lights danced through the air, creating the illusion of another world where everyone seemed carefree and happy. Bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music, but I had no interest in joining them. All I wanted was to sit in silence and drown my thoughts in alcohol.

I chose a seat at the bar and lightly tapped the counter.

A female bartender looked at me with a faint smile.

"What can I get for you tonight, miss?" she asked.

"The strongest thing you have," I replied without hesitation. "I want something strong enough to make me forget my own name."

The blonde bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing. With practiced movements, she poured a drink into a clean glass, added a few ice cubes, and slid it across the counter toward me.

I swallowed it quickly.

The liquid burned its way down my throat and into my chest, but the pressure inside my head refused to disappear.

"Another one," I said.

The bartender studied me for a moment before silently refilling my glass.

You were careless enough to make the boss's mistress furious, and now you've been fired because of it.

Damn it.

After two years of working overtime without a single proper break, that was my reward?

I lost my job because of the lies of a jealous woman.

The third glass was probably a bad idea.

Or maybe it was the fourth.

I wasn't sure anymore.

I had already stopped counting.

Music thundered from every direction while colored lights spun across the ceiling of the club. Every now and then, someone's loud laughter rang out nearby, making the pounding in my head even worse.

I rubbed my temple.

"I should go home."

The words sounded ridiculous even to me.

Go home where?

I didn't even have a place to return to.

The thought tightened painfully around my chest.

Trying to distract myself, I pushed away from the bar stool.

A huge mistake.

The floor immediately tilted beneath me.

I grabbed the edge of the counter before I could collapse.

The blonde bartender watched me with concern.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded too quickly.

The world spun again.

"Of course."

"You can barely stand."

"I can."

Then I nearly fell over a second time.

The bartender let out a long sigh.

"I'm calling a taxi."

"No."

I shook my head firmly.

"If I take a taxi, I'll have to tell the driver my address."

She blinked.

I laughed bitterly.

"I don't have one anymore."

For a brief moment, her expression softened.

There was sympathy in her eyes.

Somehow, that made me feel even worse.

I didn't want pity.

I just wanted this night to end.

"Where's the restroom?" I asked, my voice almost drowned out by the music.

The bartender glanced toward the hallway.

"Turn right after the staircase and keep walking until the end. The door is marked Ladies. Just don't go into the wrong room."

I nodded and pushed myself to my feet.

My steps were unsteady.

The floor seemed to shift beneath me as I gripped the edge of a table for support.

A few people glanced my way and chuckled quietly.

I knew I looked terrible, but I didn't care.

I just needed cold water on my face before my head exploded.

The music grew louder as I pushed through the crowd.

The flashing lights made everything around me blur together like a beautiful nightmare.

"Hey, beautiful. Want some company on the way to the restroom?"

A man's voice called from behind me.

Low.

Cheap.

Filled with unwanted flirtation.

I felt someone's hand nearly brush against my arm, but whether it was luck or instinct, I stepped away before he could touch me.

"Go away," I muttered without turning around.

They laughed softly but didn't follow.

When I finally reached the door marked Ladies, I nearly crashed into it.

With considerable effort, I pushed it open and stepped inside.

My reflection stared back at me from the mirror.

Pale.

Exhausted.

Broken.

I turned on the faucet, and cold water poured out immediately.

As I splashed it onto my face, droplets slid down my neck, sending a slight shiver through my body.

For a moment, I smiled at my reflection.

A bitter smile.

An empty smile.

One that felt more like mockery than amusement.

"Look at you, Lira," I whispered.

"Even the mirror barely recognizes you anymore."

The room slowly tilted in front of me.

I reached for the wall to steady myself.

I couldn't remember which direction I had come from.

So I simply walked.

Following instinct.

Or perhaps hoping my feet somehow knew the way out.

My steps wavered, and several times I nearly stumbled forward.

A few moments later, I noticed two men dressed in black standing in front of a large door.

They were tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Their arms folded across their chests.

I squinted.

My vision had become blurry, but through the haze of alcohol, the door looked remarkably similar to the entrance I had passed earlier.

That must be the exit.

Without thinking twice, I headed toward it.

Each step felt heavy and unsteady, as though I could collapse at any moment.

Still, I kept moving.

I had only one goal.

To leave this place before I completely lost control of myself.

I approached the two guards with almost staggering steps.

One of them glanced at me briefly without saying a word.

The other straightened slightly but made no attempt to stop me.

Their gazes were sharp and cold enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

I ignored it.

"Thank you," I murmured softly, barely audible beneath the distant music.

The moment the door closed behind me, everything changed.

The pounding music that had filled my ears faded into a distant echo.

The room was quieter.

Darker.

Colder.

I swallowed hard.

Every instinct in my body immediately told me something was wrong.

This wasn't the exit.

I turned around and grabbed the doorknob.

It didn't move.

Locked.

My heartbeat began to quicken.

That was when I realized someone else was in the room.

A man.

He sat on a large sofa near the window, much of his figure concealed by shadows.

The city lights beyond the glass illuminated only the sharp line of his jaw and the black shirt stretched across his broad frame, its top buttons left undone.

Several half-empty bottles of liquor rested on the table before him.

I froze.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

A pair of sharp eyes settled on me.

Perhaps it was the alcohol.

Perhaps it was the strange lighting.

But for a moment, I could have sworn his eyes gleamed silver.

"You're late."

His voice was low.

Deep.

And unmistakably impatient.

I blinked in confusion.

"I'm... sorry?"

My words were cut off by his kiss as it deepened without warning. And damn it, I liked it.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation that slowly erased every noise and worry crowding my mind.

The scent of alcohol on his breath grew stronger. He was truly drunk. I could feel it in the way he moved without hesitation, without pause, as though the world beyond this room no longer existed.

And perhaps that was exactly why I allowed myself to sink into it with him.

Instead, I found myself moving closer.

My head tilted back slightly, giving him access without me even realizing it. My eyes fluttered shut, as if it were the only way to escape everything that had been crashing down around me.

My breath caught again when his lips trailed lower along my neck, sending a shiver through my entire body and making my heart race wildly.

"Don't stop.." I whispered before I could think.

At that point, I no longer cared how pathetic or reckless I seemed. Maybe sleeping with a stranger made me no better than the desperate woman I felt like tonight. But if this could make me forget my problems, even for a few hours, then maybe it was worth it.

My arms tightened around him, no longer clinging for balance but holding him willingly.

"I like that wild side of yours," he said, his voice low and intense. "Like a starving animal. And I intend to satisfy it."

His gaze locked onto mine as he reached for my hand.

The strength of his grip alone left me unable to resist. With one swift movement, he pulled me toward him and I fell onto the sofa.

He claimed my lips again with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. His kisses were demanding and relentless, completely devoid of gentleness. He kissed me again and again, leaving no room for thought, no room for doubt.

"That cheap shirt of yours shouldn't be this tempting," he muttered as he finally pulled away, allowing me a chance to breathe.

A broken sound escaped my lips as my fingers curled against his shoulder.

His hands moved impatiently to the buttons of my shirt, undoing them one after another until the cool air brushed against my skin.

I gasped when his attention shifted lower. Every touch felt scorching, sending a tremor through me.

"You.." I breathed, my words unsteady. "You're not going to remember this tomorrow, are you?"

He paused just long enough for me to meet his eyes.

"If being forgotten is what you want," he replied quietly, "then I can pretend it never happened."

My heartbeat quickened.

"Good," I whispered, forcing a faint smile. "Because I don't want to remember either."

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The city lights beyond the glass blurred together as the alcohol continued to cloud my thoughts.

"Then stop thinking," he murmured.

I closed my eyes.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Maybe tomorrow I would regret everything.

But tonight, I was too exhausted to care.

I simply wanted to forget.

And for the first time since my life had fallen apart, forgetting seemed possible.