Chapter 2

“Another?” the bartender asked, his voice cutting through the haze.

I barely glanced up at him. “Yeah, keep them coming,” I replied, downing the last of my drink and shoving the glass toward him.

He hesitated, looking at me with a mix of concern and wariness. “You sure? You’ve been going hard.”

I smiled—a bitter, hollow thing. “Just do your job.”

He nodded, though I could see the doubt flickering in his eyes as he poured another round. “Rough night?”

I chuckled darkly. “You have no idea.”

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar. “Wanna talk about it?”

I looked up at him, studying his face for a moment. He wasn’t bad-looking, with kind eyes and a gentle smile. But I wasn’t here to pour my heart out to a stranger. I was here to forget.

“I don’t need a therapist,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended. “Just give me the damn drink.”

He sighed but slid the glass toward me. “Suit yourself.”

I took a long sip, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in my chest. The images of Damian and Lilian—wrapped around each other like I didn’t exist—played on a loop in my mind. I wanted to scream, to break something, to make the pain stop.

But I couldn’t. Not here. Not in front of all these people who didn’t know or care who I was.

So, I drowned it instead. I drank to erase the pain, to blur the edges of my broken heart until I couldn’t feel it anymore.

As the bartender moved on to serve other customers, I felt the weight of eyes on me. Men, wolves—predators, watching me from across the room. Their gazes lingered too long on my figure, their intentions all too clear. It was the heat cycle, and they were looking for easy prey.

But tonight, I didn’t care. If they wanted to look, let them. Maybe I wanted to be seen. Maybe I wanted to feel wanted, if only for a moment, even if it was a lie.

A voice interrupted my thoughts, low and smooth. “Drinking alone is never a good sign.”

I turned slowly, blinking to clear my vision. A man stood beside me, tall, well-dressed, and far too close for comfort. His cologne was overpowering, mixing with the scent of alcohol and sweat. His smile was polite, but his eyes were anything but.

“I’m not interested,” I said flatly, turning back to my drink.

He didn’t leave. Instead, he slid into the seat next to me, his presence unwelcome but persistent. “Come on, now. Don’t be like that. It’s a shame for someone like you to be here all alone.”

I ignored him, raising the glass to my lips.

He chuckled, the sound grating against my nerves. “You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

I set the glass down, my patience wearing thin. “I said, I’m not interested.”

“And I’m saying you look like you need company.” His hand moved to touch my arm, but before he could make contact, another voice cut through the tension.

“Didn’t you hear her?”

The voice was deep, commanding, and immediately sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of dark, penetrating eyes. The man standing behind me was tall—taller than the first, with a broad, powerful build that screamed Alpha. His gaze was locked on the man beside me, and the threat in his stance was unmistakable.

The first man stiffened, his bravado faltering. “Hey, man, I was just talking.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” the newcomer said coldly, his eyes narrowing. “So why don’t you move along?”

For a moment, the two men sized each other up, the air thick with tension. But the first man wasn’t stupid. He knew better than to pick a fight with someone that commanding. With a muttered curse, he stood, throwing one last look my way before retreating into the crowd.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my heart still pounding in my chest. I hadn’t needed saving, but I wasn’t about to turn down the help.

“Thanks,” I muttered, not meeting the man’s gaze.

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still following the other man’s retreating form. “Men like him give wolves a bad name,” he said, his tone softening as he turned his attention back to me. “You okay?”

I shrugged, taking another sip of my drink. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He slid into the seat the other man had vacated, his movements slow and deliberate. “You don’t look fine.”

I bristled at his comment. “What’s it to you?”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Nothing, I guess. Just seems like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“You don’t know me,” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He didn’t flinch at my tone, didn’t even blink. “No, I don’t. But I do know that drowning your problems in alcohol isn’t going to make them go away.”

I laughed, the sound bitter. “And what would you suggest? Therapy? Talking about my feelings? Because that’s worked out so well for me in the past.”

The man’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable. “Maybe not. But it’s better than letting the pain consume you.”

For a moment, I didn’t say anything. I just stared into my glass, the amber liquid reflecting the emptiness I felt inside. His words stung because they were true. The pain was consuming me. And I was letting it.

“What’s your name?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Annabel,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, as if my name meant something to him. “I’m Elijah.”

The name sent a ripple of recognition through me, but I couldn’t place it. It felt familiar, like something I should know, but in my haze of alcohol and pain, I couldn’t grasp it.

“You’re a Beta’s mate, aren’t you?” His question was soft, but it cut through me like a knife.

I stiffened, my grip tightening around the glass. “How do you know that?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “It’s a small world.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The noise of the club buzzed around us, but it felt distant, like we were in a bubble, separated from everything else.

“You should go home,” Elijah said finally, his voice gentle but firm. “This isn’t the place for you.”

“I don’t have a home,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker in his eyes—pity, maybe, or understanding. “You’ve got somewhere, don’t you? Even if it doesn’t feel like home.”

I looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

“Let me take you,” he offered. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

I hesitated, my mind screaming at me not to trust him. But something in his voice, in his eyes, made me want to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t like Damian. He wasn’t like the others.

“Fine,” I said quietly, standing up and grabbing my coat. “But just a ride. Nothing else.”

Elijah smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Just a ride.”

When we reached a lonely walkway, Elijah stopped, his hand gentle yet firm as he held me in place. “This is where I stop. You should be safe from here,” he said, his tone final, as if dismissing the idea of further interaction.

But I wasn’t ready to let him go. I looked up at him, my eyes pleading as I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper, “Please don’t leave me, I mean if you could bring me here, there has to be a reason,” I flirted, my fingers trailing down his chest as I tried to pull him closer.

My dress clung to my body, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal the swell of my cleavage. I wanted him, needed him to erase the pain that had wrapped around my heart like a vice. 

As I leaned in, his silence was deafening. I began to turn away, embarrassed by my own desperation, but then he grabbed me back, pulling me into his arms.

His grip was firm, possessive, and I melted into it, biting my lower lip as I looked up at him. The tension between us crackled like electricity, and I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Elijah's eyes held a mix of amusement and something darker—desire, perhaps.

He cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, and I gasped, feeling a thrill shoot down my spine. I didn’t break eye contact, letting him see how much I wanted this, how much I needed to be devoured right here, right now. 

He seemed to sense it too, because with a swift motion, he pushed me gently against the wall, his lips crashing down on mine.

The kiss was deep, intense, a stark contrast to the innocent façade I’d put up earlier. Our tongues entwined, battling for control, as I ran my hands over his chest, savoring the feel of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

I didn’t care that we were outside, didn’t care who might see us. All that mattered was the way he made me feel—alive, desired, and utterly lost in the moment.

He pulled away slightly, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “You really are in that mood, but I won’t take advantage of you.” His voice was commanding, yet there was a softness there, a restraint that left me breathless. His fingers traced the curve of my exposed cleavage, teasing, taunting, leaving me completely at his mercy.

I let out a low moan, a sound that seemed to please him as a sexy, cute smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He held my gaze, his eyes dark with intent, as he reached out his hand to hold mine. “Mind if we continue this at my place?” he asked, his tone full of promise.

I didn’t even need to think twice. “My pleasure,” I replied, a mischievous smile playing on my lips, already anticipating the night ahead—one that would make me forget all about Damian and the pain he had caused me.

Elijah looked away, a knowing smile on his face as if fully aware of the power he now held over me.