Chapter 3: One-Night Stand With A Stranger

SEBASTIAN’S POV

I thought fleeing from BloodMoon pack would bring some sort of peace to my soul but that was a big lie. I had fled to Novela, craving a life of peace and solitude for the remaining days of my life, but somehow the Moon Goddess, Hecate, had other plans—this mysterious girl in front of me. I’d so wanted to mind my business when I saw her walk-in dripping water like she had just taken a swim and had forgotten to dry off before coming here, but I couldn’t, not with my wolf being restless, its claws scraping my soul, sensing something I couldn’t name.

She was a storm in a soaked blue dress, nineteen and fearless, or maybe just broken. I watched her slam tequila shots, her hands trembling, her green eyes hollow. When those three drunks cornered her, their hands groping, my wolf snarled, a primal urge I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t play hero—never had—but something about her pulled me, like a thread stitched into my bones. I moved, my fists a blur, bones cracking under my knuckles. They hit the floor before they knew what happened, my Lycan speed a flicker of the supernatural.

Now, she stood before me, swaying, her lips inches from mine. Her breath was tequila-sweet, her words a reckless dare: “I’m saying do you want to fuck me?”

I froze, my jaw tightening. What the hell? Her eyes, wide and glassy, burned with a mix of pain and desire, but she looked drunk, her dress practically transparent, her curves outlined like a fucking invitation. I stepped back, my hands fisting to keep from touching her. “You’re out of your mind,” I said, my voice rough. “You need a bed to sleep it off, not… that.”

She laughed, sharp and bitter, stumbling closer. “I’m not drunk, okay? I know what I’m saying.” Her voice cracked, but her gaze was steady, defiant.

I stared, my wolf growling low, stirred by her scent—jasmine and rain, laced with something wild. She was a mystery, a drenched girl in a bar full of wolves, not the furry kind, but the kind who’d eat her alive.

My anger flared, hot and sudden. “Are you fucking stupid?” I shouted, my voice echoing over the bar’s hum.

Heads turned, but I didn’t care. “You waltz in here, dripping wet, flashing your tits in that dress, and think you’re safe? This place is a lion’s den, and you’re bleeding meat. You could’ve been raped—or worse—and you’re asking me to fuck you like it’s a game?”

Her face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks, catching the light like shattered glass. She sank onto the stool, her shoulders shaking, sobs tearing from her throat. My chest tightened, guilt clawing at me. I’d seen her kind before—broken, beaten down—but her tears hit differently, like a blade to my gut. She was a puzzle, a girl who didn’t cry when those bastards grabbed her, but broke when I raised my voice.

“Shit,” I muttered, stepping closer. I crouched, my hands hovering, unsure. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” I sighed, my wolf whining, urging me to fix it. I pulled her into my arms, her wet dress soaking my shirt, her body trembling against mine. “It’s okay,” I whispered, my lips brushing her hair. “You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped around me, her fingers digging into my back, and a jolt shot through me—a pull, like the Moon Goddess herself had tied us together. My wolf howled, recognition sparking: Mate. I stiffened, my pulse racing. No fucking way. She couldn’t be… But her scent, her warmth, it was undeniable. I shoved the thought down, my body tensing. There was no way.

I scooped her up, her weight light over my shoulder, and tossed cash on the bar. “Keep the change,” I told the barman, who nodded, unfazed. The Den had private suites upstairs—mine, a perk of my… connections. I carried her, her breath hot against my neck, and kicked open the suite’s door. The room was dim, a king-sized bed dominating the space, its black sheets crisp. I set her down, her sneakers squelching on the hardwood.

“Sleep,” I said, pointing to the bed. “You need rest, not trouble.”

She stood, swaying, her eyes locked on mine. “I don’t want to sleep.” Her voice was low, a challenge. She stepped closer, her fingers trailing my chest, igniting fire under my skin. “I want you.”

My wolf roared, my control fraying. She was a siren, her red hair wild, her dress hugging every curve. I grabbed her wrists, pinning them, my breath ragged. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do,” she whispered, leaning in, her lips brushing my jaw. “Please.”

Her kiss was a spark, setting me ablaze. I groaned, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her flush against me. Her body was soft, yielding, her hips pressing into mine. I kissed her back, hard, tasting tequila and desperation. My tongue claimed her mouth, her moans vibrating against me. I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carried her to the bed, laying her on the sheets.

Her dress rode up, exposing pale thighs, and I growled, my hands tearing the wet fabric, the rip loud in the quiet. Her bra was lace, her breasts straining against it, nipples hard. I unhooked it, tossing it aside, and sucked a nipple into my mouth, her gasp sharp.

“Mmm… yes, fuck,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair pulling me closer.

I kissed down her stomach, my stubble grazing her skin, and tugged her panties off, the scent of her arousal driving me wild. My fingers found her, slick and ready, but she tensed, a flicker of fear in her eyes. I paused, my hand stilling. “Are you a virgin?” I asked, my voice rough, realization hitting like a punch.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. But I want this. I want you.”

I cursed, my mind reeling. A virgin, offering herself to a stranger, a fucking Lycan. “You sure?” I asked, searching her face. “Won’t you regret this tomorrow?”

“I’m sure I won’t,” she said, her voice fierce. “Fuck me already.”

I kissed her, slow, promising gentleness, but my wolf had other plans. I shed my clothes, my cock straining, longer and thicker than most, a fact I knew from locker room taunts. I positioned myself, the tip pressing against her entrance, her heat drawing me in.

“I’ll go slow,” I lied, my control slipping.

I thrust, shallow at first, her tightness gripping me. She gasped, pain flashing across her face, and I froze, blood staining the sheets—her hymen broken. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I said, but she grabbed my shoulders, her nails digging in.

“Keep going,” she panted. “Please, fuck me.”

I moved in, deeper, her moans shifting to pleasure. “Mmm, that feels so good…” she whispered, her hips rocking, matching my rhythm. I thrust harder, my cock filling her, her walls clenching. “Yes… right there…” she cried, her voice a melody of need.

I angled my hips, hitting that spot, and she screamed, “Harder… please…”

Her words unleashed me. I pounded into her, the bed creaking, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. I sucked her other nipple, my teeth grazing, her moans louder, raw. “Fuck—so good—” I growled, my wolf clawing for control.

Her back arched as a sharp cry escaped her lips, eyes fluttering closed, body shaking under the intensity as she gasped. “Oh my god—!” And in a minute she released her very first squirt of her life.

“Oh—goddess—yes… I’m—ah—coming!” I growled as I followed, my release surging, filling her, my roar shaking the room.

We collapsed, panting, her head on my chest. Guilt gnawed at me—I’d taken her virginity, a stranger’s gift I didn’t deserve. But her eyes, soft now, held no regret. “Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing my jaw.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the howl came again, closer this time—guttural, and unmistakably BloodMoon. My blood chilled. They weren’t hunting me. They were hunting her.