Chapter Three – Mr. Mysterious
825 Words
**Damon**
The nightclub was too loud.
Too bright.
Too full of people pretending they were happier than they actually were.
I owned Eclipse.
That didn't mean I enjoyed it.
It meant I knew exactly how much money people were willing to spend convincing themselves they were having the best night of their lives.
From the mezzanine overlooking the dance floor, I watched Marcus finish speaking with the security team.
"No incidents?"
Marcus shook his head.
"Nothing worth mentioning."
"The VIP arrivals?"
"All checked in."
"The minister?"
"Already left."
"The footballer?"
"Too drunk."
I sighed.
"Throw him out."
Marcus smiled.
"Already did."
I grabbed my jacket.
"I'll do one more walk-through."
"You know you don't have to."
"I know."
"But I always do."
Eclipse had never been about money.
It was about information.
People revealed their true selves after a few expensive drinks.
Business deals were struck.
Affairs began.
Enemies made mistakes.
For an Alpha...
There were few better places to listen.
---
I settled into my usual seat at the end of the bar.
"Your usual, sir?" the bartender asked.
I nodded.
"Double whiskey. Neat."
The amber liquid had barely touched the glass when my wolf stirred.
Restless.
Uneasy.
It paced beneath my skin.
Waiting.
Listening.
Then...
A scent.
Vanilla.
Fresh lemon.
Something clean.
Something intoxicating.
My wolf slammed into me with enough force to steal the breath from my lungs.
**Mate.**
My fingers tightened around the whiskey glass.
"No."
**Mate.**
Absolutely not.
I didn't believe in fate.
I didn't believe the Moon Goddess chose my future.
My wolf didn't care.
It surged forward again.
**Mate.**
I turned slowly toward the staircase.
She was walking straight toward me.
Black hair that caught the light with every step.
Electric-blue eyes.
A fitted black camisole and dark jeans that somehow made the entire club fade into the background.
Confidence radiated from her.
She wasn't trying to impress anyone.
She simply knew who she was.
And she was...
Human.
No wolf.
No trace of magic.
Nothing.
My stomach tightened.
Impossible.
An Alpha didn't have a human mate.
My wolf growled low in my mind.
**Mine.**
She stopped beside me.
Folded her arms.
Studied me for a moment.
Then smiled.
"You know..."
Her voice carried just enough amusement to make me look at her.
"...you look like you've just come from burying a body."
I stared at her.
No fear.
No hesitation.
Just curiosity and mischief.
Exactly the sort of woman my wolf would choose.
I hated that thought.
So I did the only thing that had ever worked.
I pushed people away.
"If you're looking for attention..."
My voice was cold.
"...try someone with lower standards."
Her smile disappeared.
"I was making conversation."
"I'm not."
She held my gaze.
"I noticed."
I looked back toward my drink.
"You've had your entertainment."
A beat of silence.
"Now leave."
The words landed harder than I'd intended.
For a brief second, disappointment flashed across her face.
Then...
It vanished.
She reached for my whiskey.
I didn't stop her.
Neither did the bartender.
She lifted the crystal tumbler.
"I was wrong."
She smiled sweetly.
"You don't look like you've buried a body."
I raised an eyebrow.
She tipped the glass.
Ice-cold whiskey cascaded over my hair, down my face, and onto my shirt.
The entire bar fell silent.
"You look like the body no one wanted to bury."
Gasps rippled through the room.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The bartender looked as though he'd forgotten how.
Marcus had frozen halfway across the room.
No one...
No one...
Had ever humiliated Damon Ashcroft inside Eclipse.
She set the empty glass on the bar with a soft click.
"For someone so handsome..."
She tilted her head.
"...your personality is tragic."
Then she turned and walked away without looking back.
My wolf didn't roar.
It laughed.
**I like her.**
"I don't."
**Liar.**
She disappeared into the crowd, where another woman—presumably her friend—threw an arm around her shoulders before dragging her toward the dance floor.
Champagne appeared.
Music swelled.
They danced.
They laughed.
As though she hadn't just committed social suicide.
Then a man approached her.
Tall.
Well dressed.
Confident.
He asked her to dance.
She accepted.
My jaw tightened.
The stranger rested a hand against her waist.
My wolf surged forward so violently I had to grip the edge of the bar.
**Touch her again.**
"No."
**Break his arm.**
"No."
**He's touching our mate.**
Around me, glasses rattled almost imperceptibly against the polished wood.
The bartender wisely took two steps backward.
Marcus appeared at my side without a word.
"You need to leave."
"I know."
"Now."
Across the dance floor, she laughed at something the stranger had whispered.
My wolf snarled.
Mine.
I closed my eyes.
Forced one slow breath into my lungs.
Then another.
When I opened them again...
I turned away.
For the first time in my life...
Walking away from a fight took every ounce of strength I possessed.
- Writer
