TWENTY-FOUR
Despite his loft being empty, the bathroom is surprisingly untouched. It’s as if the movers skipped over it, that or Nik couldn’t be bothered to take a few towels and the soap dispenser. Part of me is thankful. There’s no way in hell I’d do this between the three rows of sinks downstairs, staring in the mirror while others crowd around adjusting their makeup with an undeniable look of pity in their eyes. No, thanks. I don’t regret a goddamn thing, and the last thing I need is another stranger judging me.
He's at the counter when I rejoin him, his bare torso glistening with the sheen of sweat. God, his body is as hard as the marble beneath my feet, seemingly etched out of stone after hundreds of hours of chisel work. If I thought I could survive another round with him, I might’ve brought the towel out with me. My legs threaten to buckle as I step forward, and fighting the pit building in my stomach proves difficult. Rocks seemingly stack in my gut, an ornate row leading to my throat and preventing any of the air I wish to suck in. It isn’t just what happened in this loft, but what was agreed to. I said yes. I told him I’d leave, but it’s impossible to know if it was truly my decision, or the side effect of being too close to the man that can make saying a simple sentence turn into utter gibberish.
“You okay?” he asks, concerned brows tugging together. “Your heart is racing.”
Right. Werewolf ears. Guess there isn’t a lot I can hide from him after all.
“You could help us both out and put on a fucking shirt,” I say and narrow my eyes, even arching one eyebrow after I rake my gaze over him completely. Those lines. Those four distinct scars splitting his perfect skin down the center. It makes me wonder how he even survived something like that. And it also appears his father didn’t expect him to. The scars don’t bother me. The pain each horrible gash brought with it does. The disgrace he must’ve felt. The way his whole pack might’ve looked at him like some failure. Is this why Nik is so different? Why he even bothers chaining himself up every full moon so he doesn’t give in to the bloodthirsty creature begging to get out?
Nik grins just long enough to notice. “Or you could take off that dress and join me.”
Fuck. If it were only that simple. I’m not sure if these large windowpanes are one-sided, but if they aren’t, the entire club had a clear view of my ass while I was suspended above them. There are a lot of emotions swirling around my head right now, and regret isn’t one of them.
“I’m human, remember? No super healing. I’ll need at least a day before I’m ready for,” I pause and motion my finger to the crotch of his pants, “that again.”
“Shame,” he says and closes the distance, holding me at my waist. Nik kisses me, letting his mouth linger long enough to send another one of those fucking waves crashing against the shoreline of my better, less lustful, judgment. “I wanted to spend all night inside you.”
Again, there’s only one word splitting my skull. Fuck. Why must everything this man do churn this impossible urge inside me? An irresistible longing to fold under the weight of his round lips breaking into a grin. His glowing gold eyes inspecting every inch of my face as if committing it all to memory. When Nik looks at me, any control I possess cracks into a million pieces.
He chuckles to himself. “Your face says no, but your heartbeat.” Nik puts his palm on my chest, searing the exposed skin my dress leaves uncovered. A kiss on my forehead. A soft, gentle kiss. “Your heartbeat says yes.”
Words fumble in my throat. Words. Phrases. Fucking hand signals, I can’t manage a single one! “I—”
Nik rubs his thumb over my lips, silencing me and keeping my body still. “Don’t worry. We have time to enjoy each other. Let’s just hope they have soundproof walls in Italy, too.”
A blush skitters up my neck to my cheeks. That’s right. Italy. Tomorrow we’re going to Italy. I almost forgot after … Well, it’s not unusual for Nik to make me forget a lot of things, mostly my own train of thought. It’s a scary one, though. Terrifying, really. Jumping on a plane with him and fleeing the country? What am I going to tell my parents? More importantly, what am I going to say to Courtney? I’m moving away with Nikolai. Don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll call you! God, I can almost hear her yelling at me now. She’d be right too, of course. Just another reason why she’s the sister I never had, and certainly not the one I deserve.
“You’re in your own head again. I can almost hear the thoughts rattling around in there,” Nik says, eyeing me curiously.
I chew on my bottom lip, the same one he can’t seem to glance away from. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Courtney …”
Nik contemplates for a moment, his smirk shifting serious. “She’s your friend, right?”
“Mmhmm,” I say and nod.
“And she wants you happy?”
I nod again.
“Do I make you happy?” His voice lowers to a gravelly pitch. His eyes comb over every inch of me, but always end up back on my mouth, like the answer he’s desperate for will suddenly plop out.
I run my fingers through his long and dark hair, bringing my face closer to his. When his lips are a breath away and tremendous heat begins working up my sternum, I kiss him. His mouth opens enough for our tongues to slide against one another. I don’t know if a simple yes will justify how I feel. How this man has taken hold of my life like a fucking vortex, swirling me into this never-ending circle and bringing me back to him. Only him. But it’s all I can say. It’s all I can think. Yes, he makes me happy. Yes, I can’t imagine anyone else in the city, in the world giving me the same horrible pain in my stomach when he’s not there.
“Yes,” I say finally. My reply is short but sincere. “Yes, Nik. More than I have ever been.”
One side of his face tilts upward in a grin, flashing an even row of polished white teeth. “Then, she will understand. Go talk to her. I’ll take you both home after I track down a shirt.”
I drag my hands over the scars, following the way they railroad to the deep V near his hips. His skin is blistering to the touch, heating my outstretched fingers like an oven. Although I’m still riding the aftershock of one, maybe even two explosive orgasms, there’s this unabashed ache to enjoy him all night if I could. It’s as if all my willpower, any restraint I am capable of disappears the second I touch him, and when he touches me? God, I can’t remember my fucking name.
I pull my hand away and smirk at him, tallying up every feature I find desirable. I lose count after five. “See you downstairs.”
Opening the hatch, a blast of thunderous music and cheers breach in, awakening his silent loft with the chaos of Volk. While other nights might’ve been at a respectable five on the Richter scale, tonight, the noise has been wrenched to an earth shattering nine. Screams. Clapping. Chest pounding beats. It doesn’t just hurt to listen to but seemingly alters the blood flowing through my veins, sending vicious throbs throughout my entire body.
Taking the stairs proves more difficult than it has every other time, even the night I ran down them during the full moon. But it isn’t fear making me struggle. No, it’s the way my legs wobble with pure exhaustion. Fire ignites in each worn muscle, and when it becomes too damn unbearable, I hug the guard rail, clinging to it until solid ground is beneath my feet. The bar is somehow busier than before, and the stage itself has to be nearing max capacity. Dodging those carrying drinks to their groups, I find a small spot toward the end with leftover glasses and crinkled napkins. I glance from one person to the next, even standing on my tiptoes for a better look at the clubgoers shouting for drinks.
“Courtney?” I yell, or at least try to but my voice is nothing more than a whisper battling the noise. “Courtney!”
Only the people closest to me turn and look, and each time there’s an embarrassed or annoyed glare in my direction. I pay them no mind and focus on the dance floor. Between the lights and the sea of bodies moving to the music, it’s impossible to recognize anyone.
“Courtney?” I scream again to no avail, catching more annoyed glares. My voice dies less than a foot in front of me. It’s pointless tonight. I can barely hear my own thoughts.
The bartenders busy themselves amongst the crowd, pouring three if not four drinks at a time. One, two, five. There’s five of them tonight. It’s funny, they never look the people on the other end of the bar in the eye. They only nod, hand them a drink on a bloodred napkin, and move onto the next. One stands out, though. The man I know has seen Courtney before.
I walk carefully around the crowd to the other end, fighting my way through until he is within earshot. “Alek!” I shout and place my hand on the bar top.
He peers up at me for a small moment, then returns his attention to the cocktail he’s preparing. “Da,” he replies, his voice short and irritated.
Okay, Alek is still a prick. Good to know. “Have you seen my friend?”
Alek stabs a small plastic sword through the center of a cherry, adds it to the drink, and slams it in front of the woman next to me. Some splashes to the counter but he doesn’t bother wiping it away. “I am bartender. Not babysitter.”
Well, this is going better than I could’ve hoped. “Have you seen her or not?” I glare at him until he finally meets my gaze. He places his arms on each side of the ice well. We stare at one another until he ultimately glances downward. It might be defeat in his eyes, or he knows Nik can hear everything we’re saying right now. Like it or not, he’s going to fucking answer me.
“She left,” he says and starts the next drink. “Went with guy buying her vodka cranberries.”
I pull out my phone. No messages. No missed calls. She wouldn’t have left without saying something. Not Courtney. This is the first rule in her book. Never go with a potential partner without sharing your location. She didn’t, and the last text she sent was from this afternoon.
I stare at him curiously. “How long ago?”
Alek rolls his eyes and tilts the bottle, adding a shot of rum. “Vifteen minutes. Can I work? It’s busy if you haven’t noticed.” With that, he moves around the other bartenders, taking new orders from the people on the opposite end.
Something isn’t right. Dread settles low in my stomach, pushing all of my organs aside to make room for this newfound pain taking hold. She wouldn’t leave without saying something. She’s always texted me before she went home with a new guy as a safety precaution. And she always shares her location in case things go south. I don’t know any of the werewolves working in this club, but I do know Courtney, and while I can’t sense heartbeats like them … I know deep down, Alek is lying.
I swipe to my messages and click on her name. Thumbs to the screen, I type out the three words gnawing at my insides.
Where are you? I text.
It sends easily enough, and although the club seems to heighten in ear-splitting noise with the latest song, I focus on the three little dots signaling a reply. They stop as fast as they appear and start up again. Then, they stop altogether.
The message goes still, and my question is left on an alarming read status. The air in my chest hisses out in a sigh. Come on, Court. This isn’t like you. Maybe she’s pissed at me? I did basically ditch her to go up to Nikolai’s loft. Leave her at the bar only to be a muse to the single and sometimes married men who act like fucking vultures. She has every right to be mad if she is.
Are you okay? I text again.
The three dots appear once more and pause just as quick. I glance around Volk, hoping Alek is wrong and she’s still here. He could’ve been busy and didn’t see her go to the bathroom or out on the floor. My eyes land on Nik standing at the bottom step to his loft. There’s someone in front of him, his height rivaling Nik’s even a stair beneath him. Pinpricks pierce my skin from my arms to my feet.
Viktor.
My heart plummets.
I alternate glances between the unanswered message and the two brothers, but only one of them has his fists clenched tight. Nik. His brow lowers to a scowl, and although I can’t hear what he says, his mouth opens with inaudible and visceral shouts. Anger morphs all the features I tallied as irresistible into a pure, unrecognizable wrath.
Three more dots. Still no answer. What in the hell is happening? Why are they fighting this time? Why isn’t Courtney responding? Why is there always some other shoe waiting to fucking drop?
Nik’s rage-filled gaze finds mine, and a distinct amount of unease replaces the expression on his face. He shoulder charges past Viktor to me, not even giving his monstrous brother another glance.
“We need to leave. Now ,” he demands and grabs me by the wrist, leading me to the doors with incredible strength.
I follow as fast as I can, my camera bag slamming against my hip. He knocks back anyone that gets in our way, parting the sea of clubgoers for the both of us. Nik hurls open the doors, and before we pass through, I catch a glimpse of Viktor watching me, a ravenous glint in his gray eyes. His grin is deadly, spreading icy fear through each of my limbs. My heart rate spikes, leaving my hands and feet as numb as they are immovable.
“Now, Natalia!” Nik yells and rips me through the entrance. And when I’m on the other side, feeling the cool night air of Los Angeles soothe my cheeks, the doors of Club Volk slam shut.