Chosen By Fang

Alice’s POV The tall gates stared down at my confidence and crumpled them with just their impressive size. I smoothed my dress for the third time while the security guard scanned my invite. My heart must’ve been beating loud enough, because how else would he have known to give me a double take? “First time here?” he asked, glancing up at me. “It’s that obvious?” I smiled, pitching my voice somewhere between ‘approachable academic’ and ‘not here to steal anything, sir.’ He snorted, stamped my badge, and waved me through. “Relax. They don’t bite. Usually.” Comforting. As soon as I stepped past the gates, my phone buzzed again. Do you want to see him again or not? It sat there among a fluffy mess of back-and-forths. I had begged, cursed, told the messenger to f**k off and now, I was here. Doing their bidding. Inside the estate was humming with the kind of energy I had never experienced. The music was soft, the people murmured - not shouted - and yet, the air still held a charge. This was wealth - the quiet kind - the one that whispered and it felt like a screech inside your brain, commanding you to lean in. Scholars, donors, industry leaders, and a handful of students like me floated through the space like graceful swans around a gold-filling-littered lake. Internally, I could feel my aura change. The smile on my face became more genuine, morphing me into who I needed to be. The bright-eyed, curious academic protege. I drifted from group to group, asking questions about funding models and ethical innovation, nodding thoughtfully while older men grew animated at having their ideas admired. It helped that I did care…for about half of it, anyway. The other half was survival instinct dressed in charm. My youth helped and being attractive was a welcome bonus, adding up to what I knew was going to be my greatest advantage - being underestimated. And then I saw it. The Midnight Pearl sat inside a glass case at the far end of the hall, resting on black velvet that probably cost more than my entire outfit. It wasn’t large, but it caught the light in a way that drew out it’s value. It’s dark lustre threatened me warning me of it’s inherent danger, but I paid no heed. I moved closer, pretending fascination, but my fingers itched. I calculated distances, angles, blind spots. And then I felt it. The hairs at the back of my neck pickled, making me hyper-aware. Someone was watching me. I froze, keeping my fingers by my side before lifting my gaze. He stood a few feet away, his aura ominous, and handsomeness undeniable. As he stepped closer, few features I recognized from the articles began to show themselves - his unruly hair and high cheekbones. They made him look too beautiful, almost a purposeful facade to the monster he really was on the inside. The predator. “Damien Fang,” my voice faltered. Of course it was him. He approached with unhurried confidence, hands clasped loosely behind his back, his dark, abysmal eyes flicking briefly to the pearl before returning to my face. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. I swallowed. “I would say…alluring.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “The Pearl has been in my family for generations. Supposedly, it symbolizes continuity. Legacy.” “And here I thought it was just very committed to being dramatic,” I said lightly. His eyes darkened with amusement. “It tends to have that effect on people.” I held his gaze longer than was wise. My pulse betrayed me. “Careful,” he added quietly. “Some things don’t like being wanted.” A chill slid down my spine. He meant the pearl, right? I was unsure, but I was stubborn. I held his gaze, then tilted my head back and smirked. It wasn’t deliberate…at least, not until I thought about it. I walked out of the room scolding myself for what I had just done, but secretly hoping that he followed me. Why? I couldn’t explain it, but there was an itch…somewhere deep inside me, that it felt like only he could scratch. I had just met this man, and I already needed air, just to be able to breathe, because he damn near took all the oxygen in the room. “Christ,” I exhaled after taking in enough air to burst my lungs as soon as I got to a balcony. “Yes, it is a breathtaking view,” the dangerous hum came from behind me. He followed. I turned around, and was breathless again. This time, there was no pearl…no talking point, no attraction but those eyes that felt like I was staring into an abyss. Pitch-black, holding in an eternity of emotions. I was suddenly interested. I wanted to unravel him. At least, again, half of me wanted to. The other half of me was in the artifacts room, where the pearl sat, proud and lustful, calling my name. “No one’s hear, Alice. Makes it less dangerous to want something,” He was close to me now, too close for comfort. “How’d you know my name?” I asked, putting out a hand to stop him from coming closer. “Dane told me,” he smirked. He didn’t stop, and my hand didn’t stop him either. It just kept folding at the wrist with each step he took, then at the elbows. “What are we doing?” I breathed, as his mouth hovered over mine. “Who’s Dane?” “I have absolutely no idea,” he replied. I closed my eyes…waited a few seconds. Nothing. Then, it happened. I firm, possessive capture of my lips. My brain burned with desire such as I have never felt in my entire life and it didn’t make sense. How could I want this man so much? Common sense told me to stay away from him. He wasn’t in my league. Not just because I was a commoner and he was the most elite person in the city, but because he was also a freaking werewolf! Yet, his fingers were inside me. Freaking werewolf fingers! They caressed my lips and caused me to shiver like drops of icy-cold water was dribbled down my spine. "You like that, Alice?" How the hell? I nodded. I would've loved to say no. Tell him to back off, maybe kick him in the guts. But the pleasure? Not happening. I freaking loved it! The air was cool, and it became even cooler when it started hitting parts of my body that it shouldn’t have been able to, because Damien unraveled me. My dress was pulled down before I realized it, just below the shoulders…enough to expose my wanting rosebuds and he hungrily devoured me as he slid into my wet lips. All I could think about was…how? How was I in this position? How was I closing my eyes, gripping the hair of the most powerful man in the city as we danced sensually, to the beat of our sinful desires? It made no sense, but as long as I hadn’t strayed too far from my plan, the pleasure from such a capable man was welcome.