Chapter 2

The Obsidian Club wasn't a building; it was a fortress buried beneath the city streets.

The bass hit us before we even cleared security. It thumped against my ribcage, a rhythmic, predatory heartbeat. The air inside was thick, humid, and smelled overwhelming. To my dull human nose, it smelled of expensive cologne, sweat, and iron. To Lila, it probably smelled like a riot.

"Stay close," I whispered, gripping her arm.

The crowd was a sea of apex predators. Beautiful, lethal people moved with fluid grace, their eyes reflecting the strobe lights. Some were shifting partially—eyes glowing gold or violet, claws extending to tap against crystal glasses.

I kept my head down. Eye contact was a challenge here, and a challenge from a human was a death sentence.

Lila, however, was in her element. She walked with a new strut, her head held high. She guided us through the throngs, ignoring the leers directed at me. I felt like a dazzling accessory, a shiny bauble hanging off her arm to prove she wasn't just a street rat.

We reached the bar. The bartender, a hulking brute with scars crossing his nose, slid two drinks across the slate counter without asking for an order.

"Drink up," Lila shouted over the music. "Liquid courage."

I took a sip. It was sweet, masking a bitter undertone. I scanned the room. "I don't see your Beta, Lila. Can we go?"

"Relax," she said, checking her phone. "He’s coming. I just... I need to go to the powder room. Fix my lipstick."

Panic flared in my chest. "Lila, you said we stick together."

"I'll be two minutes!" She squeezed my hand, her grip clammy. "Stay right here. Don't move. Don't talk to anyone. You're safe. You're with me."

She pulled away.

"Lila!" I called out, but the music swallowed my voice.

She disappeared into the crushing mass of bodies, the red of her own dress vanishing into the dark.

I stood alone at the bar, exposed.

The space around me seemed to shrink. I felt eyes on me—not the casual glances of earlier, but heavy, weighing stares. I turned back to the bar, staring at my drink, wishing I could dissolve into the floor.

"You are vibrating."

The voice was low, smooth, and terrified me down to my marrow.

I froze. Slowly, I turned.

A man was standing behind me. He was tall, wearing a suit that cost more than my entire life’s earnings. His hair was the color of raven feathers, and his skin was pale, flawless marble. But it was his eyes that pinned me in place. They were a piercing, electric blue—Alpha eyes.

He didn't look at me like a person. He looked at me the way a collector looks at a rare painting. He stepped into my personal space, inhaling deeply.

"Fear," he murmured, a small smile touching his lips. "And lavender. A lovely bouquet."

"I'm waiting for a friend," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling. "She’ll be right back."

"A friend?" The man circled me slowly. He reached out, his cold fingers tracing the line of the red dress across my shoulder blade. I shuddered, but I didn't dare pull away. "You are very well-groomed for a stray. This silk... it’s imported. Very high quality."

"Please," I said, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might bruise my ribs. "You have the wrong person."

"Do I?" He stopped in front of me, tilting his head. "I was told the package would be wrapped in red."

I blinked. "Package?"

The crowd parted. Not for me, but for the security guards flanking a woman walking toward us.

Lila.

She wasn't coming from the bathroom. She was coming from the VIP section. And she wasn't looking at me.

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