Chapter 3

Macey

Who was he?

Her mind whirled as she danced, twirling and turning this way and that, ignoring the whoops and cheers of the mostly-drunk patrons of the club.

Only five minutes ago, she had begun her routine, dancing to a beat she barely recognized. The DJ was in top form tonight, she thought with a slight smile, and the beats were enticing to move to. The beauty of the dance, however, was shown in the skill.

And being a pro by now, she was skilful, and showed it off with every twitch of muscle in her body.

Before long, she had noticed a burning stare on her. She was used to being looked at while performing, in fact, it was a given. Business would fail if they were unable to catch the patrons’ attention. This feeling, however, was different.

Macey’s eyes searched out amongst the crowd as she kept dancing, her body having a mind of its own It was only after she had dropped nimbly into a spilt and gotten up just as quickly, that she finally knew.

With a whip of her head, she turned to meet the eyes of the man. She could not help but let out a gasp, a strange fire burning within her just as their eyes met.

Who was he?

She had never seen him in her life before. If she were to wager a guess, he was probably not from around here. Los Angeles might be a big place, but she knew the faces of everyone who came to the club by now. Macey had never seen his face before. No, she had not. She would have remembered those amber eyes of his, or his strong jawline and cheekbones. He would have been unforgettable.

She turned away, beginning to grind on the pole, her heart pounding faster for some reason.

She felt the burning inside her caused by this stranger begin to translate into her wild movements, and she swayed for a bit before gaining control. Macey threw herself into the dance, fully giving in to the music. The beats pounded in time with her heartbeats as she began to move even more seductively, emphatically rolling her hips to the music. If the increase in screams of the patrons were anything to go by, then they were loving it. She was loving it too, and as she danced, shutting her eyes, the only thing she could see behind her eyelids was him. The stranger who had set her aflame.

Who was he? She asked herself this question, turning around and letting her hair fan about her. She met his eyes again, this time she was daring him with a look on her face. He seemed to tense, gritting his teeth in response to her. A tinge of curiosity filled her, and she tried to keep eye contact with him, trying to figure him out as she ended her first performance of the night.

Unfortunately, soon, the music ended, and as it did, she panted, short of breath and still staring at him.

Their eyes were still locked as her fellow dancers began to stand and exit the stage. She needed to join them, but she could barely move. Her knees were weak just looking at him.

Then, as if it was a dream, she noticed his facial muscles twitch, and the stranger glanced away. A feeling of emptiness filled her, and she began to finally move, walking on her heels with precision and experience, out of the stage and down to the locker room.

Yet, as she took a bit of refreshment and touched up her makeup, the feeling of wonder had not decreased by any means.

Who was he? She mouthed the question without a sound coming from her lips, eyes trained on her reflection as she sat at a formerly-empty dressing table. Who was this stranger that ignited this fire in her body? Who was he, that with just a mere look, made her wild? How did he do this to her? Where was he from? What was he made of? Who was this enigma that had made her confused?

And why had he looked away?

A feeling of disappointment now washed over her as she realized that the man had sported a not-so-happy look at the end of it all. He even seemed to be clenching his hands into fists, as if trying to hold himself back from something. What had upset him?

Why had he looked away from her?

Why did she want him to keep looking?

A thud resounded in the locker room, jolting Macey out of her thoughts, and she turned to see one of the girls sporting a shoe with a broken heel. She winced in silent apology, watching as another girl handed their colleague with the broken heel a sparkly silver pair of heeled sandals with platforms even higher than the ones Macey had just worn. Recalling that she needed to change, she reached for her shoes whilst raising her leg a bit higher to unbuckle them from her feet.

After that, she shook herself, leaving the dressing table, which was immediately occupied by another girl. Macey went to her locker 203, and opened it, reaching for her bag to remove another outfit. This time, it was a lacy lingerie set, made to be removed. The first performance might have not had her removing much, but this next performance was going to be wild. She turned to enter a small alcove in the room, speedily shedding her sequinned outfit and putting on the black lacy lingerie, complete with a garter belt and black stockings. After adjusting herself, she moved to put on another pair of shoes, this time, black leather heels with a smaller platform.

Macey went to stand in front of another mirror, surveying herself and blowing a kiss to her reflection. She looked good.

She was ready.

Omari

Fuck. Not this. Not here. Not now.

He clenched his hands into fists, trying not to react to the fact that he had just recognised his mate. Why had this happened, he questioned himself, mind now in disarray as he realized the severity of the situation. This was impossible.  He could not be mated to her, not to a human, no matter how beautiful she was.

And she was beautiful. He could not help but watch her until the end of her performance. Her eyes stayed on him, as if to say, “Look here. This act is for you.”

Omari could not bear to look away, his eyes mesmerized by the undulation of her hips, the sensual caresses she gave herself as she leaned on the pole. She was clearly giving her all into the performance,

Another wave of anger hit him, and a growl of frustration erupted from his lips without him knowing.

Of all the places he could have found his mate, it had to be here, in this damned city of Angels. To make matters worse, it was a human mate. That alone was a travesty.

Omari grit his teeth, mustering the strength to look away from her finally as her performance had ended seconds ago.  He was an Alpha, goddamnit. A human mate would make him look weak, and that was not what he needed right then. His pack had too many enemies, waiting for the first sign of weakness to take him down. How much worse would it be if word spread that Omari Scar, Alpha of the Scarlet Pack, had a human mate. It would only give his foes the drive to be bolder in waging war against them. it would make him a laughingstock, and he could not bear to imagine how the council would react when they found out who his mate was. No, no one could ever find out.

As soon as she exited the stage and another set of dancers had come on to begin their own performance, he stood, prowling over to the bar to order a shot of neat whiskey. He downed it the moment the wide-eyed blonde bartender handed the glass to him, letting the alcohol fill his body and ignite his veins. Much like that girl had.

His eyes snapped open, though he was unaware of when he had shut them, and he turned away from the bar, meaning to leave the club once and for all. He needed to get out of there before he lost control of himself.

However, just as he neared the door, his eyes turned to the stage once more, and he saw her again.

“Fuck,” he all but growled, watching her figure silhouetted by the bright stage lights behind her. She wore a black lacy bra and panties, along with a garter and sheer black stockings.

Against his will, he found himself drawn to her enticing figure.

What was she? He asked himself that question, as he stood, rigid and frozen into place by her aura.

The alluring scent which she had wafted through his nose again, and he took a deep breath in, enjoying the intricacies of its uniqueness.

He had bedded and left many other women before – werewolves like him, no less. He had been an object of desire by so many, and even now, in this club, he knew the way some of the girls had been eyeing him and wanting to get a chance to be near him. That was the power Omari commanded.

Then why was it that this human girl could do this to him?

Why was she so alluring? Why did she have to be his mate?

Why could he not just leave this club and bury himself in work tonight?

He was an Alpha, goddamnit! And he had never bent before. He would not give in to his baser desires now.

He watched with a glint in his eyes as the patrons cheered for her. One of the men pawed at the stage, practically flinging money at her. As he watched the men, he felt an intense emotion that he could not bear to admit. His eyes saw red, and he longed to get her off that stage and into his arms. He would tear the men’s arms off for even thinking to touch what was his.

Omari did not know when he made his way back to his seat, glaring at one of the many drunk patrons to move the hell out of his way. The moment he sat down, he turned his eyes towards her, and she shifted, tilting her head as if to find him. Their eyes met, and he could not help but smirk. He saw how her lips parted and mouthed “You” to him, as if asking him a question. He nodded at her, holding her in his piercing gaze. She bit her lips and began to breathe even harder, and the sight of it pleased him. He could see her nipples harden through the flimsy black lace from where he sat, and he longed to get up on that stage and put his mouth on them right then and there, biting them through the lace fabric and sucking until her legs were weak and unsteady. He now longed to taste her, all of her.

Yet, he held himself, only barely. He clenched his hands on his lap, his amber eyes still holding her dazed gaze.

Dance for me, darling, his eyes said to her. That look seemed to spur her out of her trance, and Omari was glad. He leaned back as she turned away. He could sport a soft smile on her lips before she straightened, striking a pose like a model on the runway as the music swelled up from the speakers of the club. The next act of the night’s performance had begun.

She danced, and the Alpha watched with immense pleasure.