Chapter 21
Karina
Ican feel her under my skin, scratching and clawing, desperate to break free as the moon calls to her. It's an itch I can't scratch, a burn I can't soothe, and it's getting worse with each passing minute.
“Miss Greene, please,” Gabriel says, his hand firmly pressed against the small of my back as he guides me through the unmarked side entrance of Crimson Howl.
The heavy metal door closes behind us with a resounding thud that feels too final for comfort. The scents hit me immediately—sweat, arousal, expensive cologne, and beneath it all, the unmistakable musk of other wolves. My nostrils flare involuntarily, and I fight the urge to bare my teeth.
“This way,” Gabriel directs, steering me down a dimly lit corridor. “Mr. Marek was very specific about the arrangements.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself despite the sensory overload. Then, before I can second-guess myself, I reach out along that strange, new connection that thrums between Damien and me.
How far away are you?
For a terrifying moment, there's nothing but silence. Then I feel it, a pressure against my consciousness, heavy and intense.
Close. Stay with Gabriel.
“Let’s go. We need to be in position before Lockhart arrives,” Gabriel grumbles under his breath.
I nod once, my throat too dry to speak as Gabriel's hand guides me forward.
The club is pulsing with life around us, but Gabriel deftly navigates us away from the main floor, his movements precise and practiced.
I catch glimpses of shadowy figures through doorways—bodies entwined, masks glinting in the low light.
A group ahead of us blocks our path. I shift to move around them, but Gabriel tugs me to the left, subtly changing our course.
I glance up briefly and immediately understand why. Along the far wall, a row of private booths house several alphas. I can smell their dominant pheromones even from here. Gabriel smoothly steers me down a different path, putting several dancing bodies between us and the alphas.
We reach a cordoned-off section marked with a subtle gold emblem—VIP only. A bouncer twice my size stands guard.
“We’re expecting Alpha Lockhart shortly. Make sure he’s admitted,” Gabriel orders the man standing guard before he pushes me inside.
Inside the VIP section, the room stands empty except for Gabriel and me, the plush couches and private viewing areas eerily silent compared to the throbbing pulse of the main club.
“Sit there,” Gabriel instructs, pointing to a black couch positioned directly in front of the one-way glass overlooking the main floor. “Front and center. That’s where he wants you.”
I hesitate only a moment before obeying, settling into the cool material. The seat faces outward, offering a perfect view of the chaos below while putting me on full display to anyone who enters this private room.
My fingers find the zipper of my jacket and pull it down with a metallic hiss that sounds far too loud in the stillness.
I ease it off my shoulders, revealing the harness beneath.
Thin black straps cross over my chest, leaving little to the imagination and even less to comfort.
I tug one band higher, making sure it conceals the mark at my throat.
Gabriel’s sharp inhale breaks the silence. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, snapping his gaze away. “If Lockhart doesn’t kill me tonight, Damien sure as hell will for seeing you like this.”
“Not before he kills me for wearing it,” I reply, trying for humor and failing. My hands smooth down the straps, the gesture more nervous than I intend. “It’ll be fine. At least, it’s supposed to be. This is all part of the plan.”
Gabriel makes a noncommittal grunt, positioning himself near the entrance where he can monitor both the door and the main floor below. “Plans change when jealous mates see other men looking at what's theirs.”
I'm about to respond when that familiar pressure blooms in my mind again, stronger this time. More urgent.
He's here. Lockhart just walked in.
I thought you were coming after Lockhart showed up.
My pulse spikes instantly, and I grip the arm of the couch to keep my hands steady.
I told you I’d keep you safe, kitten. I can’t do that if I’m not here. He won’t see me coming until it’s too late.
Gabriel's phone buzzes, and he glances at it before moving closer to me. He pulls a tiny spray bottle from his pocket, handing it to me. “Heat pheromones. Spray it all over you, and the couch.”
I take it from his hand, and press down on the top, spiritizing the liquid onto my wrist. The acrid smell makes me recoil. “This smells like piss.”
“Not to males. Now spray it and give me back the bottle once it’s empty. We don’t have much time.”
I do as Gabriel requests, spraying the foul scent all over me, taking extra care to spray my neck. With the remaining two pumps, I spritz the couch before handing him the bottle back.”
“It reeks in here,” I almost gag.
“That’s the point.”
I take a deep breath, stowing the growing need to vomit down as much as I can, and shift my weight on the leather couch. The harness straps dig slightly into my skin as I adjust my posture, attempting to channel whatever femme fatale energy I can muster.
Damien’s reassuring voice speaks down our bond. You can do this, kitten. This will all be over soon enough.
I've never been bait before. Never faced down an alpha who's already proven how dangerous he is. The memory of Lockhart's hands on me, my first time coming to this very club, makes my skin crawl, but I can’t let that happen. Tonight is about ending this once and for all.
He's coming up the stairs now.
I swallow hard, my fingers nervously tracing the straps across my collarbone. Where are you exactly? I project back, unable to stop myself from scanning the room again.
Close enough to rip his throat out if he tries anything.
Gabriel shifts his stance, one hand casually drifting toward what I suspect is a concealed weapon.
“Showtime,” Gabriel mutters under his breath, nodding toward the entrance.
I hear footsteps outside the door and then the metallic click of the handle turning. My breath catches in my throat as the door swings open.
Thomas Lockhart strides in like he owns the air itself, his broad frame blotting out the doorway.
The black mask does little to disguise him.
I would know that cruel smirk in a crowd of thousands.
His attention lands on me instantly, dragging over every inch of bare skin with a hunger that makes my stomach knot.
“Well, well,” he purrs, closing the door with a soft click that feels louder than a gunshot. “Karina Greene. What a pleasant surprise.”
I shift deliberately, crossing one leg over the other. His focus follows the motion. “Is it really a surprise,” I counter, “when you’ve been hunting me?”
“Hunting,” he repeats with mock disapproval. “Such an ugly word. I prefer…pursuing.” He advances a step at a time, deliberate as a stalking predator. “Though I didn’t expect to find you here alone. Dressed like that and smelling so divine.”
Gabriel shifts subtly at my side, drawing his attention for a fleeting second. Maybe he was right about the pheromones after all.
“Your watchdog can leave,” Lockhart says, not even bothering to face him. “We have private matters to discuss.”
I force stillness into my body, keep my pulse from betraying me. “He stays.”
Lockhart’s jaw works, irritation darkening his features. “So demanding, Karina. All I want to do is talk about our future.”
“Future? You presume too much, Thomas. I know who I am now, and with that knowledge, it means I have my pick for a mate.”
He laughs, the sound sharp and unpleasant. “So you’ve decided to ditch the pup for someone with more power.” He takes another step toward me, his cologne making my nose itch. “Smart little wolf. He isn’t deserving of a female of your worth.”
“And let me guess you are?” I roll my eyes intentionally. “Sending your goons to kidnap me isn’t exactly how a female of worth, as you called me, should be treated.”
Lockhart’s smile stretches thin, a flicker of irritation breaking through his arrogance before he reins it back in. “A necessary misunderstanding,” he says smoothly. “Soon, you’ll understand why I did it. A female like you deserves an alpha who can give her everything she’s been denied.”
Inside me, my wolf snarls, pacing behind my ribs. She hates this act, hates letting him think he’s in control. Through the bond, Damien’s presence presses against my awareness like a hand at my back, steadying me. You’re doing fine. He’s showing his hand. Just a little longer.
I angle my body slightly, shifting so the harness cuts a sharper line across my skin. His eyes flick down before he can stop himself, and the bastard’s tongue flicks over his lips before he catches it.
“I don’t know what story you’ve told yourself, but you’re not impressing me.”
He steps closer, closing the space between us until his scent brushes the edge of my nose.
My wolf thrashes, claws against my skin, but I stay still.
Slowly, deliberately, I drag my palms over the tops of my thighs, up my stomach, across the bare strip of skin above the harness, rubbing warmth into my skin as if trying to comfort myself.
In reality, I’m pushing the scent of my heat into the air, letting it bloom around me.
Lockhart inhales sharply, pupils dilating. His smile twists into something darker. “Moon above… you smell incredible,” he murmurs. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, little wolf?”
I tilt my head, feigning confusion, though my heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my teeth. “Do tell.”
His nostrils flare again as he leans in, voice dropping low and hungry. “Your heat is calling to me. Begging my wolf to breed you. Every breath you take is a promise.” His eyes glint like a predator’s. “And you think I’m the one not impressing you?”