Mesmerised by the Alpha

Chapter 18. Nicky Boy

I stormed off from the barbecue, my mood blacker than the clouds that had threatened all morning. A low growl built in my throat as I passed the flower bed by the east side of the hotel—one of those bloody patches Jasmine and George had planted together like the perfect little gardening duo. I didn’t even think. My boot swung forward and crushed a bunch of fresh pansies. The soil scattered, petals torn and twisted beneath my sole. I kept stomping, ruining their little project with every step. Good. Let them see it and remember I was here.

Why the hell was Jasmine such a stuck-up b***h?

I couldn’t stop the thoughts spinning through my head, fast and fiery. She'd never even given me a proper chance. Not once. I still remembered the first time I laid eyes on her—long raven hair that shone like ink, blue eyes like an endless ocean I could drown in. But it was her lips I couldn’t stop thinking about. Full, pink, made for sin. My groin tightened just remembering.

I’d tried, hadn’t I? That first night, I’d even been polite—gave her a smile, said hello. She waved back, smiled... and then sat next to George. Of all people. George, the silent, broody one. Her and the cook—what was her name? Dana? Didn’t matter. I didn’t make time for women unless they were worth the chase.

And Jasmine? She was worth everything.

George had always rubbed me the wrong way. All cool looks and calm control. That first night, when he took the seat next to Jasmine, it was like a line had been drawn in the sand. Him or me. And she’d picked him.

I tried to forget it. Even followed her and Dana into town one afternoon. Just to see if I could catch her alone for a second. But no luck. Jasmine always seemed to slip away, like smoke between fingers.

Except that one night. The hot springs.

That was supposed to be my moment. I’d meant to go to her room, make a proper introduction. Lay on the charm. But then I’d seen her heading out, towel in hand. So I followed. Took the shortcut, waited in the shadows near the springs. Perfect.

She had no idea I was watching as she peeled off her clothes—smooth skin, curves in all the right places. Like a bloody siren. She slid into the water with a sigh, and I nearly groaned at the sound. Couldn't resist stepping out then, letting her know I was there.

But again—frost. Defensive. Accusing. Like I was some kind of creep.

And then, as if summoned by her bad attitude, Nate had shown up. Always lurking, always judging. He had a thing for her, too. I could see it plain as day. He just didn’t want me getting there first.

Still, I knew better than to blow my chance. Nate might be my boss here, but that wasn’t the real reason I was at St Amstein.

Ezra had given me my mission: find the alpha. Get proof. Do that, and I’d be rewarded. He’d finally turn me. I was close—so close. One more meeting tonight and I’d have what I needed. But I had to calm down first.

I shoved open the hotel doors and kicked them shut behind me.

“There you are…”

The voice slithered from behind one of the stone pillars, sweet and sticky like poisoned honey. I turned, already smirking.

“I see you’re having yet another difficult day, Nicky boy?” she purred.

She stepped from the shadows, careful to avoid the cameras. A real pain in the arse, those things—half the hotel covered now. Had to keep ducking and dodging. But for her? Worth it.

She crooked her finger, beckoning. That sly smile on her lips. My trademark grin stretched across my face, the one I knew drove women wild. I strolled over, slow, deliberate. She grabbed me by the shirt collar and yanked me forward. Our mouths met—hot, urgent.

“So you’ve missed me then?” I asked, a cocky lift in my brow.

She didn’t answer. Just opened a door behind her and pulled me into the darkened storage room.

It smelled like bleach and damp stone, but none of that mattered. She dropped her shirt to the floor—nothing underneath. Glorious.

Her body was a work of art. Small, but strong—tight little waist, hips with just the right curve, and perky breasts that fit perfectly in the palm of my hands. Skin like porcelain with just a hint of heat beneath, like she was lit from within.

But what really did it—the thing that made my blood rush and my breath catch—was the glint in her eyes. That wicked, knowing sparkle. Like she was always five steps ahead, like she could own me without even trying.

I undid my buttons slowly, enjoying the way her eyes followed every move.

Heat rolled off us in waves as we closed the distance. She dropped to her knees without a word, her eyes locked onto mine, and took me into her mouth. I let out a low, guttural groan, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping the edge of a nearby shelf for balance. Her rhythm was relentless, purposeful. Pleasure surged through me in sharp, dizzying pulses.

Just before I reached the edge, I pulled away with a hiss, grabbing her under the arms and hauling her to her feet. Our mouths met in a fierce kiss—biting, desperate. I spun her around, pressing her against the cold stone wall. She gasped, the chill against her heated skin making her shiver.

And then I was inside her. Hard. Fast. Unapologetic.

She moaned, arching against the wall, nails scraping at the rough stone. Each thrust echoed in the small space, a raw, rhythmic collision of need. Exactly how she liked it.

We stayed like that until we collapsed, tangled and sweaty on the floor. She began dressing quickly, brushing dust off her bare legs.

“Leaving already?” I asked. “Come on, don't get dressed, let’s go again.”

She smiled without warmth. “Think of it as a courtesy, Nick. I wanted it. You wanted it. But it’s done. As are you”

I frowned. “As am I?”

She tilted her head. “Yes, Nick. You’re done.”

Then she slowly unbuttoned the shirt she’d just put on. My grin returned. Bloody women—could never resist me.

“You’re right,” she said, letting the fabric slip again. “Better not wear anything for this.”

I was still lounging on the floor, smug and half-hard, when she stepped forward with terrifying speed. Her eyes glinted—and then she pounced.

Pain. Sharp and immediate.

Her fangs tore into my neck.

I tried to scream but no sound came out. The world spun. My limbs wouldn’t move. The b***h was a vampire. Or something worse.

I faded, vision swimming. But I felt it—felt her dragging me, heard the scrape of my body against stone. Then the clang of a chute opening. A garbage chute?

I couldn’t even lift my head.

This couldn’t be happening.

No. No, no, no.

This isn’t how it ends.

My vision blurred, dark at the edges. Every nerve screamed. My body wouldn’t move, but my thoughts were racing, frantic.

I made a deal.

Ezra promised. I was supposed to be turned. To become one of them. I’d done everything he asked. I’d risked everything. I was so close. So bloody close.

I wasn’t meant to die here—in some dusty storeroom, thrown out like trash.

My heart thundered weakly in my chest. This was wrong. Wrong.

I tried to speak, to plead, to scream—but only a choking gurgle escaped.

Then came her voice, low and sweet in my ear, like honey over poison.

“Goodbye, Nicky boy.”

And with one final shove, I was kicked backwards, free-falling into blackness.