Chapter 2

The Blackwood Bar was alive with music, its heavy bass thrumming through the floor as bodies moved in rhythm under dim, flickering lights. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, perfume, and the electric energy of the night.

Dominic stepped inside with Cameron, Elena, and her friends close behind. The moment they entered, Elena tugged on his arm.

"Let's dance," she whined, pressing herself against him.

"Drinks first," Dominic said, his voice firm as he led her toward the bar counter.

Behind the counter, Freya was busy mixing drinks, her hands moving instinctively as she poured and stirred. She didn't expect to look up and find Dominic leaning in, suddenly so close.

"Can I get a Wilderness Whiskey and a Moonlight Brew?" he asked, his voice smooth yet commanding.

Freya froze, her fingers tightening around the bottle in her hands. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, burning, searching. For a second, she forgot to breathe.

Dominic flicked his fingers impatiently, breaking the moment.

"Yes...," Freya murmured, blinking back to reality.

A slow smirk curved his lips. "Did you even hear what I just said?"

"Relax, babe," Elena cooed, sliding her hand down his arm, her touch possessive.

Before Freya could respond, a man stepped up, a familiar face to both Dominic and Elena.

"Wilderness Whiskey and Moonlight Brew, coming right up," he said, already reaching for the bottles.

"Thanks, Shane," Elena said, flashing him a smile.

Freya exhaled, forcing herself to focus. "Sorry, I'm kind of new here," she admitted.

Dominic's gaze softened slightly. "It seems like it. And... sorry if I came off rude."

"You didn't," Freya said, quickly shifting her attention to the next customer, trying to steady the sudden racing of her heart.

Shane returned with their drinks, setting them down on the counter.

Elena picked up her glass, swirling the liquid before glancing at Dominic. "My mother's fallen ill. I need to visit her tomorrow."

Dominic nodded, his expression unreadable. "That's important. Do you want me to come with you?"

A small smile touched her lips. "Sure, we can go together." She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Before he could respond, a voice boomed through the speakers.

"Attention, everyone! This is your man, Jardine, and I'm here to rock you with a brand new song!" The musician stood on the stage opposite them, as the crowd erupted into cheers.

Elena's eyes lit up. "Let's hit the dance floor."

Dominic took a sip of his drink. "Go ahead, babe. I'll join you in a bit."

Elena stood and sauntered off, joining Cameron and her friends as the new music pulsed through the room.

Dominic turned and caught sight of Freya. A strong pull tugged at him, urging him toward her. She was focused on the stage, her lips curling into a quick, bright smile as Jardine's voice filled the room.

The crowd was lost in the music, but Dominic barely noticed.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in. "Hey, why don't we be friends? Hang out, get to know each other... platonically."

Friends. The word felt foreign the moment it left his mouth. Why had he even said it?

Freya's smile faded slightly as she glanced toward Elena, who was laughing with her friends on the dance floor. "I really don't think that's a good idea..."

Dominic smirked. "I get it. You're afraid you won't be able to keep your hands off me."

Freya let out a soft chuckle. "In your dreams."

"True," he admitted with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I promise to be a gentleman."

Freya hesitated, then extended her hand. "Alright."

He took her hand and gave it a gentle shake.

"Cool," he said, holding her gaze. "We'll be friends."

Dominic tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing on his lips. "So, can I get another drink, or what? Pal."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Alright, chill out, buddy. I'll make you something."

She turned and walked toward the shelves, but Dominic wasn't far behind, casually following her to the end of the counter.

Earlier, she had watched Shane mix drinks, paying close attention to the one he had given Dominic. She replayed the steps in her mind, grabbed the bottles, and got to work.

A moment later, she slid the drink toward him.

Dominic took a sip, raising an eyebrow. "Fast learner. Earlier, you looked like you had no idea what I was talking about."

Freya shrugged, a hint of pride in her expression. "Yeah, I pick things up quickly."

Dominic chuckled, his gaze lingering on her just a little too long before shifting to a dartboard across the bar counter. He smirked. "Want to play?"

Freya glanced at it, then back at him. "Sure."

Three rounds in, and Freya was dominating. She threw another dart, watching as it landed dead centre, joining the rest of her perfect shots. Dominic's darts were close to the bullseye but not close enough.

"Drink up," she said, grinning.

Dominic exhaled, shaking his head as he took a sip. "You're kicking my ass."

Freya chuckled, walking over to retrieve the darts. She handed them back to him with a smirk. "Lesson number one, never play darts against a bartender."

Dominic let out a low laugh, twirling a dart between his fingers. "Noted."

He held her hand, taking the darts, as they both felt a strong connection between them. Her fingers trembled, not from fear, but from something she couldn't seem to place.

As he worked to free the darts, their eyes locked. They both can see a promise of something deeper in each other's eyes.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face as she felt his hot breath brushed against her skin, mingling with the faint of adrenaline, the intensity of the moment seemed to draw them even closer as they leaned in, their forehead touching.

"See I, for one, think this whole platonic thing is going great. It's not, not torture at all," he murmured.

Freya looked shy and confused, feeling his breath match the quick beat of her heart.

"I'm gonna go to the restroom," she stammered, stepping away and heading for the restroom.

She stood in front of the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. "I don't care how drunk you are or how hot he is. Keep it friendly, Freya. Friends only. Boundaries exist for a reason, and one night can turn into a mistake you'll regret. Just enjoy the evening..."

Before she could finish, a man walked into the bathroom.

Freya turned to face him. "Oh-uh, hey. Ladies' room is occupied, buddy," she said, trying to sidestep him.

"Hello, Freya," the man said in a rough, raspy voice. He seemed to be in his thirties, but his gaunt face, sunken eyes, and twisted scars made him look older and more menacing.

Something about the way he said her name made her stomach tighten.

"Hi... stranger."

His grin widened, dark and unsettling. "Now that you're young again, I can finally have you as my toy, do whatever I want with you."

A chill ran down her spine. She was about to leave, but he blocked her path with a swift step.

"Even if you don't remember me, even if he dragged you back from the grave... you're still Freya."

Her breath caught. "Okay, I think you've got me confused with someone else. Freya's a pretty common name."

She tried to slip past him, but his grip clamped onto her wrist. In one rough motion, he shoved her against the wall.

She gasped, fear spiking through her.

His voice dropped to a hiss. "I asked you to be my bride, and you rejected me. All I did was get a little angry, so what did you do? You turned me into a baby and threw me into an orphanage." His fingers tightened around her arm. "Well, guess what? This time, I'm not just going to hit you. I'm gonna do a lot more"

Panic flared in her chest. "Dominic!" she shouted. "Somebody! Dominic!"

"Stop that-"

"Somebody, help me!"

"I said shut up!"

"Help me! Dom...,"

A flash of silver caught her eye. He pulled a knife from his jacket and pressed it to her neck. The blade was cool against her skin.

"Quiet! Don’t make a sound!" he threatened, his voice low and growling, each word edged with menace.

Her heart pounded. "Just let me go," she pleaded. "Please."

His eyes flicked to a scented candle sitting on the sink's edge. He snatched it up, shoving it into her hands.

"My magic's rusty. I was never as talented as you." His lips curled into a sneer. "Which is why you're going to cast the spell. Take this."

Freya stared at the candle in disbelief. "You want me to cast a spell... with a scented candle?"

"Yes, we are!" he spat. "Now take a deep breath and repeat after me. Tempus verto, vita ad infans..."

He began chanting words in a language she didn't recognize.

"I don't speak that," she gasped.

The knife pressed harder against her skin. "Yes, you do, Freya. Yes, you do. Now say it."

Freya was about to speak when her vision blurred. Her head swayed, and darkness crept at the edges of her mind.

And then everything went black for her.

The man shook Freya's limp body, panic flashing in his eyes. "Wake up," he hissed.

The bathroom door burst open.

Dominic stood in the doorway, his eyes glowed a deep, fiery red, burning like embers in the darkness, as he took in the scene. In a flash, he closed the distance, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

The warlock's face went pale. "A-Alpha," he stammered, his entire body trembling.

Cameron rushed in just as Dominic hurled the man across the room. He crashed into the sink, his head striking the mirror with a sickening crack before slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Dominic turned to Cameron. "He's a warlock. Handle him the ancient way."

Cameron nodded grimly. "And her?"

"I'll get Freya home."

Cameron narrowed his eyes. "How do you even know her name? Or where she lives?"

Dominic barely spared him a glance. "She told me her name." He crouched down, scooping Freya into his arms with surprising gentleness. "As for her house..." He inhaled deeply, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll follow her scent."

And with that, he carried her out the door.