Chapter Five

Alexander’s POV

     A club is the last place I want to be after finding out my Luna has been cheating on me, but, according to my friends, that’s exactly why I should go. 

     The crowded limo pulls up to The Witching Hour. There are six of us in total: myself, Luke Silver Tooth of the Silver Tooth pack, Richard Shredder of the Shredder pack, Archer Swift Paw of the Swift Paw pack, Benvolio Morbius of the Morbius pack, and Eliott Crimson of the Crimson pack. A “celebration of my being single,” they called this little adventure, but I can already tell it’s just a coverup to get me into a business meeting.

     Still, I could use a good strong drink. 

     Or ten. 

     We walk into the club and settle into my private box. The other alphas huddle around me, eyes shifting around the club to make sure no one will be listening in. The box is fairly secluded, though, closer to the back and away from prying ears. I made sure of that when I first secured it. 

     “So,” Benvolio says as we all sit down, “Alexander, we were all shocked to hear the news about you and Cora–”

     I shoot him a glare. He swallows nervously, gray eyes glinting. “Don’t.”

     They may be my friends technically, but I’m also the most powerful out of all of them. They know where they stand. 

     “I just can’t even begin to imagine how that would’ve gone down,” Rowan says, voice thick with sympathy. Strands of dyed green hair fall in his face. “I mean, I know she was an Omega, but still–”

     “It’s ridiculous that she’d really be willing to leave you,” Richard cuts in. “We’ve all met her. We thought she was too good for…”

     “So did I.” I speak into the silence his words leave behind. “And I’ve already said I don’t want to talk about it. I thought this was a social call?” Lies, and we all know it. “Let’s all get drinks, at least.” 

     “Right!” Archer says with forced brightness, waving over a waiter. “Waiter, I’d like three bottles of whatever your finest wine is–”

     “Sorry to interrupt, Alpha.” The waiter inclines his head respectfully. “But I figure it would be best to tell you before you order that all of the drinks tonight will be paid for by an exceptionally wealthy woman.”

     Archer’s eyes widen. “Is that so?” He marvels. “Never mind, Waiter. We’ll order later.”

     “Now, why’d you do that?” Eliott complains as the waiter walks away.

     “Because,” Archer says, “If there’s someone here, a woman, of all things, wealthy enough to pay for all the drinks here…”

     “I don’t care about that,” I state. 

     “Come on,” Luke says. “With all the chaos that’s gone down thanks to Cora, you really need to start thinking about your future again. You can’t let her humiliate you like this.”

     “You need to marry Erin,” Richard chimes in.

     My heart skips a beat. I whirl towards him, glaring daggers in his direction until he sinks back into his seat. “I’m not thinking about that yet.”

     “Shouldn’t you be?” Archer asks. “What else do you honestly think there is to do at this point but get your pack a new Luna?”

     “Plus, it’d mean Cora’s fair game for the rest of us,” Rowan adds with a chuckle that makes me want to shred his skin into ribbons. 

     Slowly, I turn towards Rowan. “What did you say?” I ask him slowly.

     His eyes widen in fear. “I–I–um–”

     I consider, for a moment, hurting him dreadfully. Killing him, even. I could do it. I’m stronger than him, and he knows it. I open and close my fists, claws extending.

     But more tension between packs is the last thing I need.

     I let the fire die out from my eyes. “I can’t deal with you lot right now,” I spit.

     I stand up and leave the box, feeling suffocated by the presence of the other alphas. I need a walk. I need a goddamn break. I start to move away from the box, stepping into the lobby of the bar. I scan the interior of The Witching Hour, looking for something–anything–to distract myself with.

     And that’s when I see Cora onstage, dancing like a fucking stripper. 

     I’ve never seen her like this. The song is heavy, sweaty, and dead sexy, and Cora’s dancing to the music as if it was written just for her. A wicked red corset hugs her figure, no shortage of perfect cleavage in view. As she spins and arches her back, crowd whooping and cheering, I catch a glimpse of the red laces crisscrossed along her spine like a work of art. A too-short black miniskirt edges up her perfect thighs. There’s a scandalous slit cut up the side, all the way up to the top of her hips, exposing every inch of her long legs. Her hair tumbles down her shoulders, and it’s already mussed. Her makeup is smudgy and blurry. She looks like a hologram. She looks like a daydream. She looks like a ghost fated never to leave me alone. 

     Everyone in the club, I realize, can see her like this. 

     I want to rip their eyes out. Every last one of them. 

     In the back of my consciousness, my wolf laughs. You deserve it. You let her go.

     “Shut up,” I growl under my breath, eyes glued to the stage.

     The music fades out. The crowd immediately erupts into thunderous applause, and I want to kill everyone here. 

     She walks off the stage and gets lost in the crowd. I can already see the men scurrying to follow her footsteps, drawn to her almost magnetically. I am too, more than any of them, and I hate myself for it. 

     Was she the woman who paid for everything? She must be. 

     Cora’s moving in my direction, I realize. Does she know I’m here? I doubt it. I can’t imagine she does. Coincidence, surely.

     Or maybe not. She’s tricky. She’s crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was all planned–every single moment of it. She never really loved me. I wouldn’t put it past her to fake it for three years.

     There’s a man, I realize, to my left. He’s pulling something out of his pocket. His posture is sturdy, confident. Cora is walking towards him. She’s grinning. She’s angled away from me–I can see her, but I don’t think she can see me.

     I act without thinking, without knowing what I’m doing. I rush forward, towards Cora, towards the filthy maggot of a man talking to my mate without my permission. My teeth are bared. I knock him out of the way and grab Cora by the shoulders.

     I swear it's not like I still have any feelings for her. What's more, I've already rejected her.

My body was one step ahead of my mind when dragging her out of the club.