Chapter Six- Moonlight Mates
555 Words
The hallway was a sanctuary of cool stone and dim lighting, but as Elara pushed back out of the restroom, the silence only made the frantic pounding of her heart louder. Her mind was a hazy swirl of champagne and the rhythmic bass of the music still thumping through the walls.
She leaned against the wallpaper, a soft, tipsy giggle escaping her lips as the floor seemed to tilt beneath her heels. But the giggle died in her throat as the temperature in the corridor surged.
The air at the end of the hall didn't just move; it thickened. A scent—heavy, dark, and devastatingly potent—hit her like a physical blow. It smelled of cedar, cold rain, and a raw, metallic edge that made her wolf let out a long, low moan of absolute surrender.
Silas POV:
The scent had hit me like a physical strike the moment I stepped into the corridor. My beast roared, a deafening, primal sound that demanded I hunt. I turned, my movements predatory and fast, following the trail of sun-ripened peaches and something older—something ancient—that made my blood burn.
There, leaning against the wall, was a vision in shimmering champagne silk. Her hair was a deep, fiery red, cascading over her shoulders in messy waves. I adjusted my dark leather mask, feeling the heat of my own wolf’s amber eyes beginning to glow behind the slits.
I didn't want her to know who I was. I didn't want the Alpha’s crown to sit between us yet. I just wanted to find the creature who carried the scent that was currently rewriting my soul.
Elara’s POV:
Down the long, shadowed corridor, a massive silhouette was moving toward her. He was a mountain of a man, his broad shoulders filling the hallway, his presence swallowing the light. He moved with a terrifying, silent speed.
Elara froze, her breath hitching. She couldn't see his face behind the heavy, dark mask, but she could feel the dominance radiating off him. It was a pressure in the air that made her want to drop to her knees.
He didn't stop until he was inches away, his shadow looming over her. The heat coming off him was a physical force, melting away the last of the champagne fog and replacing it with a sharp, desperate hunger.
He stepped into her space, his large hand coming up to pin the wall beside her head. Before she could scream, before she could even think to run, he leaned down. His nose brushed the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear, and he took a deep, shuddering inhale.
The sound that came from his chest wasn't human. It was a low, possessive growl that made her entire body go rigid.
"Mine," he rumbled, the word a jagged, possessive rasp against her skin.
Elara looked up into the dark mask of the stranger, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She didn't know his name. She didn't know his face. All she knew was that the heat in her blood was answering his call, and for the first time in her life, her inner wolf was screaming a single, undeniable truth.
Mate.
- Writer
