Chapter Six #2
My eyes widened. “Does ‘no’ mean something different in Lycan?”
He turned to me with a speed I failed to register. “Look around, Joanna. Humans here don’t say no.” Marcus’s voice was deeper than I’d ever heard it, his eyes never leaving mine.
I held his gaze, goosebumps rising on my skin. “I can handle myself.”
He bent forward, his hot breath tickling my ear. “Can you? Because from where I’m standing, it looked like you were about to become dinner.”
I swallowed hard, pride making it easy for me to lie. “I had it under control, Alpha.” Asshole.
Marcus dropped back onto the stool. “Sure you did.” He held out the jacket again, his eyes daring me to refuse.
I snatched it from him, draping it over my shoulders. The leather was warm and soft, the scent of Marcus enveloping me. I had to resist the urge to sink into him. “Happy?” I snapped.
He turned back to the bar. “Ecstatic.”
We sat in silence for the next twenty minutes.
Each time a human approached the bar for a drink, I showed them a picture of Toya, only to be disappointed.
To make matters worse, I felt Marcus’s gaze glued to my every move.
But whenever I tried to talk to him, he turned away with a grunt.
The asshole was making the night awkward as hell.
A figure approached us, the normalcy of the aura meaning he was human.
I looked up at the man smiling at me with a set of sexy white teeth.
He wasn’t much taller than me, dressed in a sleek, fitted white jacket that tapered to a narrow waist. Beneath the jacket, his white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, revealed a hint of tanned skin.
His dark jeans tucked into black cowboy boots, adding a rugged yet stylish edge.
“Hola, bonita… Uh… My friend… She says you might want to dance?” Very sexy accent.
I turned to see which friend he was referring to. At a VIP booth near one of the speakers, my thick Latina line-buddy raised a bottle of Patrón in salute, taking a swig straight from the bottle.
I smiled. “Okay. Sure.” I started to rise when I felt a hand slam down on my arm.
Staring at Marcus with a bewildered look on my face, I pulled my arm from his grasp. I removed his jacket from around my shoulders and tossed it to him without looking back.
As I let the handsome stranger lead me onto the dance floor, the pulsing rhythm of the music seeped into my veins.
The crowd was a throbbing mass of bodies, moving in sync with a beat that vibrated through the walls and floor of the club.
I could feel the heat of the other dancers, the brush of their skin against mine.
My dance partner spun me around, pulling me close to him. His hands found their way to my hips, guiding me with a confidence that was both thrilling and slightly unnerving in such a short dress. But I let the music take over, my body moving in time with his.
He dipped me low, his arm supporting my back, and I couldn’t help but laugh, a breathless sound swallowed up by the music. As he pulled me back up, our faces were inches apart.
I could see the desire in his eyes.
I let my hands wander, tracing the lines of his shoulders and his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his shirt. His hands returned the favor, exploring my body, his touch respectful yet hungry. The air between us charged, the heat of our bodies mingling with the vitality of the club.
As we danced, I lost all sense of time. There was only the music, the heat, the raw energy that coursed through us.
I felt alive, free, and consumed by the moment.
But as I spun around, wanting to feel the hard chest of the stranger against my back, my eyes caught sight of the bar.
And a jolt of ice shot through my veins.
Marcus was leaving the club, his face dark with an animalistic hunger. The woman he dragged behind him kept her eyes locked onto the Alpha, her gaze filled with sexual need. The sight sent a pang of something unexpected through me.
Jealousy, perhaps?
But why?
Marcus had made it clear he was nothing more than my mute babysitter for the night.
I pushed the feeling aside, turning my focus back to my dance partner. But I’d shattered the moment. The spark was extinguished, the warmth from the stamp on my hand dissipating.
I pulled away, offering him a small smile. “Thanks for the dance… Mind if we sit?”
He nodded and led me to his friend’s booth.
“Ay, Pedro,” the Latina greeted, “I told you she was sexy as fuck. You looked like you were gonna come in your pants, motherfucker.”
The Latina and her group of friends laughed. Pedro threw the napkin he was using to wipe the sweat from his brow at her.
“Pero, chica, where’s that fine-ass giant that was with you? I was worried y’all were together or something.”
I shook my head with more aggression than necessary. “Coworkers,” I replied.
She took a swig of tequila. “For your sake, I hope they don’t allow fraternizing. He looks like he’d tear your pussy in two.”
“Camila!” Pedro exclaimed.
As the laughter faded, I passed around the photo of Toya. I watched their faces—scrutinizing every breath, every tic—for any sign they might know something. But all I saw was curiosity.
“She’s pretty,” one girl said, handing the phone back to me. “Is she missing?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you could say that… For a while now. I was hoping someone might recognize her, though.”
The group exchanged glances, shaking their heads.
“Sorry, chica,” Camila said, her voice filled with genuine concern. “We don’t know her. But we can keep an eye out, yeah?”
I smiled at her. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” Not that it would do any good.
Pedro leaned in, his voice deepening. “The men here… They’re not all… good. Ten cuidado, bonita.”
I stood up, smoothing down my dress. “I will… Thanks again, Pedro.”
He smiled with a sweet warmth in his eyes.
As I walked away from the group, I felt the weight of their concern. Pedro meant well, but his words only reinforced the danger I put myself in. I was literally dancing with wolves…. And I couldn’t afford a misstep.
I made my way back to the bar, combing the crowd in vain for any sign of Marcus. I took a seat and ordered another drink.
What the hell was I going to do if no one recognized Toya? Nicely request access to their security tapes? I was so fucked. I needed Marcus’s help after all.
As I nursed the rum and Coke, my fingers fiddled with the crystal pendant resting between my collarbones. That’s when I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck. I crossed my legs and turned, trying to survey the crowd without being noticed.
Shit.
The werewolf’s human eyes locked onto me with a predatory gaze. He was a red-headed giant, his skin glowing under the lights. He moved toward me, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, the intensity of his aura undeniable. An alpha.
I tensed, my hand moving to my boot, fingers brushing against my push dagger.
“Well, hot damn,” he drawled, leaning against the bar. “What do we have here?”
I turned to face him, my expression neutral. “A girl having a drink alone,” I replied, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.
He chuckled, his eyes roaming over my body. “A fucking Nubian Goddess. Pretty little things like you shouldn’t be alone in a place like this.”
I lifted an eyebrow, my fingers slipping over the dagger. “And why is that?”
He inched closer, his breath suffocating me. “Because there are big, bad wolves around. And they just love to eat girls like you.”
I grimaced, pulling away. “Is that so?”
He nodded, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Oh, yes. And I bet you taste delicious.” He licked his lips. “Let’s dance.”
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Look. Thanks for the flattery, okay? But I’m not interested.”
He chuckled again, but this time, I could feel his darkness spread. “I don’t think you understand, sweetheart. Declining ain’t an option.”
I rolled my eyes again. This asshole was pissing me off.
“And who the fuck are you supposed to be?”
He smirked, his eyes flashing with arrogance. “I’m the one who’s gonna have you face down, ass up.”
I’d had enough. Grabbing the crystal pendant, I stood up, shoving the werewolf back with enough force to send him stumbling. “Fuck off.”
He growled at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
Shit. I was in trouble.
But Marcus appeared out of nowhere, launching himself at the werewolf.
Their bodies collided with brutal force, sending a shockwave through the room. I watched in awe as Marcus’s muscles rippled beneath his skin, his body transforming into a monstrous half-wolf form. His eyes glowed, his teeth elongating into sharp fangs as he snarled and snapped at his opponent.
The other werewolf retaliated with an equal ferocity, shifting into the hybrid form only alphas seemed to possess. His claws slashed through the air, narrowly missing Marcus’s face as they tumbled across the ground.
It was a violent dance of fur and claws.
Marcus’s fist connected with the werewolf’s jaw with a sickening crunch. But the werewolf was undeterred, his eyes burning with an anger that seemed to fuel his strength. He lashed out, his claws raking across Marcus’s chest, leaving deep gashes that welled with blood.
As the fight raged on, I noticed something strange. While the shapeshifter club patrons were shamelessly enjoying the brawl, the humans seemed oblivious to the supernatural duel. Something else held their attention with a hypnotic grip.
I moved closer, trying to focus on the humans as I struggled to understand what was happening. And then I saw it—the stamps on their hands, pulsing with an eerie energy.
Realization hit me like a cold wave.
The stamps carried a spell that kept the humans docile and unaware of the true nature of the creatures they drank and danced with.
Marcus’s roar shattered my focus, yanking me from my discovery. His body twisted with an explosion of strength. He slammed the werewolf into the wall, leaving a crater in the brickwork. The werewolf slumped to the ground, gasping for air.
Marcus stood over him, chest heaving. “You better pray to the Moon you never see her again. Because if you so much as look in her fucking direction, I’ll kill you.”
The werewolf looked up at him, his eyes filled with loathing. “She’s unclaimed!”
Marcus’s snarl was a chilling sound that echoed through the room. “She’s mine.” His voice resonated with a possessiveness that made my heart race.
He turned away, leaving the werewolf crumpled on the floor.
The room was silent, save for the EDM still thumping through the speakers. Marcus made his way back to me, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Are you alright?”
I nodded, my heart still racing. “I’m fine,” I answered truthfully. “But you’re injured.”
He glanced down at his chest with a dismissive look in his eyes. “They’ll heal,” he said gruffly. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I knew better than to argue.
We didn’t speak to anyone as we made our way to the exit. The atmosphere in the club had shifted, the tension hanging thick in the air as patrons watched us. And yet, as we left, all I could focus on was Marcus’s warm hand resting on the small of my back.