CHAPTER TWO: That Night
1074 Words
~ Mira ~
That night, the party stank of cheap beer, body heat, and perfume too sugary to be taken seriously. My cup of warm ale sat untouched on the wobbly coffee table while my cheek rested on my fist. My head? Somewhere else. Spinning, actually—caught between the throbbing guilt of missed work hours and that stolen kiss with Damon Blackwood.
Damon, Alpha of the South. He was the worst kind of mistake—the kind your body craved before your brain could protest.
My lips still tingled with the memory of his mouth on mine. Heat stirred in my belly every time I thought about the way his tongue had teased the inside of my lip, the way he tasted like control and danger. I hated it. I hated how much I wanted more. And now I was stuck in some senior’s apartment while half the modern lit department got sloshed and fake-flirted their way through weak vodka shots and stronger egos.
“You’re brooding again,” came a voice to my right.
I glanced up.
Sasha Reyes. Calculated. Beautiful. Controlled to the point of obsession. Her hair was slicked into a perfect coil at the back of her neck, her heels had never once scuffed the floor, and her red wine was sipped like she was attending a political fundraiser—not a college beer crawl.
“I’m thinking,” I said.
“You always are,” she replied, eyes scanning the room like a predator watching the stock market. “Let loose. Just a little.”
A whoop echoed from across the room, and my other friend flung herself onto the couch beside me, nearly spilling Sasha’s wine.
“Daaamn, Mira, that guy from the business department just looked at you like he wanted to devour you.” Zara—chaotic, impulsive, the type of girl who wore glitter eyeliner to breakfast—grinned like a fox. “Was it the hoodie? It’s giving… innocent with a side of trouble.”
“Can we not?” I muttered, but she was already sipping someone else’s drink and swaying her hips to the music playing over Bluetooth.
“Come on, you’ve been ghosting life ever since your ‘library meltdown,’” Zara teased. “Spill it. What happened with the hot Alpha? Tell me he pinned you against a bookshelf.”
I stiffened. Sasha raised a brow. “Alpha?”
Zara gasped theatrically. “You don’t know? Damon Blackwood. He’s the Alpha of the South, babe. As in one of the four. His name could un-enroll you if he wanted. So if he kissed you—”
“I didn’t say he kissed me,” I cut in sharply, but my cheeks betrayed me.
Zara squealed. Sasha’s lips curved ever so slightly. “So he did.”
Before I could protest, a strange hush fell over the room. The atmosphere shifted.
I felt it before I saw it. That prickling tension—like a storm was about to break through the windows.
The door opened.
Damon Blackwood stepped into the apartment with the effortless power of someone who never questioned his welcome. He didn’t need to. He owned every room he entered. His frame was wrapped in a dark shirt that clung to every muscle, and his obsidian gaze skimmed the room once before landing on me.
A pulse of heat shot straight through my chest.
But he wasn’t alone.
Behind him strolled Chip Rivera, Alpha of the East.
If Damon was storm and darkness, Chip was fire and chaos. With caramel skin, braids that brushed his shoulders, and a silver tongue that could melt anyone’s spine, he was the kind of man who set fire to a room just by laughing in it.
“s**t,” Sasha muttered. “Two Alphas. This is bad.”
Zara’s grin doubled. “This is delicious.”
I stood up too fast. My knees trembled. I didn’t know where to look—at Damon, whose eyes still burned holes into me, or Chip, whose smirk promised sin without a single word.
They parted the crowd like royalty.
“Mira,” Damon greeted, his voice gravel and seduction.
“Little bookworm,” Chip added with a wink. “Heard you made quite an impression.”
“I don’t want to talk to either of you,” I said, stepping back.
But I didn’t get far.
Chip caught my hand in his, lifted it to his mouth, and pressed his lips to my knuckles. His scent hit me—warm amber and danger. A stark contrast to Damon’s sharp, woodsy musk.
“Mira,” he said softly, still holding my hand. “You smell like unanswered prayers.”
My breath caught.
Damon’s jaw flexed.
“Back off,” Damon said, not to me—to Chip.
Chip arched a brow. “You don’t own her. Yet.”
I yanked my hand away and stumbled back, only to bump into Damon’s chest. His arm circled my waist before I could blink.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low near my ear. “You always fall into me.”
God help me—I liked it. Every inch of me responded like a traitor. His hand was a brand on my side, and Chip still watched, his eyes trailing down my body like a second heatwave.
“I’m leaving,” I choked.
“Mira—” Damon tried again.
“I said I’m leaving.” I broke free and stormed out, the cold night biting my cheeks. I didn’t stop until I reached the quad.
My heart hammered, and my whole body vibrated with a fever I couldn’t shake.
Two Alphas. One had tasted my mouth. The other had just tasted my skin. And both had looked at me like I was prey.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
- Writer
