Beauty And The Ferocious Lycan Beast

CHAPTER 3

CAEL'S POV

A wave of nausea hit me like a current as I stifled a groan, trying my very best to mask the heat curling beneath my skin. I balled my hands into fists, watching slowly as Mr. Bucker’s gaze roved over my features.

“If you think acting sick will help you out, you've got to be joking.”

His voice chirped in, giving me ten more reasons why I should leave the club as soon as I got another job. Getting jobs in the packs was hard nowadays. For starters, being an omega was part of the limitations.

The danger that lurked in the club's walls was coated with indifference. The women here weren't as soft and peachy as you'd imagine. They were wild, toxic even.

And the men…

They were epitomes of muscled bricks. Physically and both mentally. Over here, logic and wits were useless. Power reigned. Authority ruled.

For an omega like myself to blend in without getting crushed or stamped on, I made sure to mask my scent. I couldn't have any muscle brains in the club knowing I am an omega. If they find out, I'd effortlessly become a victim of weakness.

Mr. Bucker hated being weak.

He made me go through several training tests to make sure I could face the worst. Training with Calvin made it easier for me to scale past the first half of his training. I failed the other half, but he offered me the job regardless after I told him I'd get used to the job over the next few weeks.

Well, newsflash— I didn't.

Even now, I still felt a throbbing sensation whenever he gave me a punishment. The bar was my safe space. Anywhere other than that made me more accessible to the wolves in the pack. I got cornered and nearly r***d once; if not for my feasible combat skills, one of the masked men in the club have pinned me against the concrete wall and had his way.

“Are you going to spend all day standing there like a deer caught in headlights, or are you going to get your sore p***y into the dressing room?”

Heat curled up my bloodstream. I knew that voice. Raising my chin to glance at Mr. Bucker's side, I met Gavin’s gaze. He was my boss's assistant, a.k.a. the second in command. Highly written on the lists of reasons I wanted to leave the club as soon as possible was him.

He was my biggest bully so far. He was the only one in the club who knew I was an omega— a full-blown scumbag if you asked me. I balled my hands into fists before flashing my gaze in his direction.

His green eyes darkened as he met my gaze. My breath hitched. Each time I crossed paths with him, I made sure to look away or avoid him, but that never worked. I knew better than to ignore him; that would only make him want to prey on me.

He mostly took a quota of my daily wages as a bribe to prevent him from revealing my identity to the members of the club. Recently, Mr. Bucker, being the stingy brute he was, decided to start handing out the payments himself, and that saved me from a confrontation with him. I was able to save my earnings over the past few weeks.

I was able to pay some of the bills in my apartment. I hadn't seen him for weeks, and now that he was back, fear clawed at my heart. I stayed still, pursing my lips as Gavin's voice cut the air.

“What are you looking at? Why don't you head your sore puss into the dressing room? We've got horny wolves waiting.”

His voice yanked me out of thoughts as I pushed forward on weak legs. I made it into the dressing room, got dressed in a skimpy stripper outfit, and wore a pink masquerade mask with golden trims.

I brushed dusty particles off my mask with pale fingers before heading towards the main stripping hall. The heated air in the room wrapped around me like a suffocating void, but I shuffled through. I got to the center of the stage, and as the music started playing, I gripped the metal pole.

I started dancing slowly, swerving my hips to the excitement of the horny bunch of wolves in the audience. “Come spend a night with me, damsel. I bet your ass must taste like heaven!”

I ignored the comment as I wrapped my legs around the pole and slowly glided down. I arched my back slowly, giving them the view they longed for.

“Come suck my d**k!”

“I bet you ride d***s better than my wife. f**k you, Susan, I want her!”

“Y-yeah, give it to me… That's it—f**k, I'm coming!”

The last comment zapped through the music in the room, causing an uproar. I searched through the crowd for where it came from only to find one of the men in the seats in the regular section had brought out his c**k and was jerking off.

My eyes widened in an instant, unease clawing at my chest as I gulped hard. “We can do this.” I muttered the words to myself before flashing my gaze in Mr. Bucker's direction. He was standing stiffly by the VIP section, eyes dark, cigarette in hand. He watched me with a frown that said Don't f**k this up, kiddo in bold letters.

I signaled towards the regular section, and he got out of his seat immediately. I watched as he moved to a side of the room, pulled one of the bodyguards standing by the hall’s walls, and whispered incoherent words to him.

It didn't take long for the man to be dragged out. He tugged helplessly in the firm grip of the bodyguards, throwing and kicking his arms in the air. “Hey, why the hell did you send my bud out?!”

A voice beamed, and I paused slowly with dread curling up my spine. My eyes rolled at the sight. I was used to this drill. It was obvious this was going to be another one of the dangerous nights in the club. Fights mostly rose from bids placed on strippers or in-house arguments.

The man who seemed to be sitting behind the man being dragged out sprang up and punched one of the guards. The guards retaliated, and before I knew it, fists, bottles, and threats were being thrown around. Disgust curled in my breath.

The attention of several onlookers in the crowd shifted. Everyone's gaze flung off my body and waved in the direction of the regular section, which was at the back. All but one.

I felt the weight of a gaze press into my back as I let out a heavy whiff of air. I heard the heavy sound of my own heartbeat over the sound of the low-tuned music in the air. It pounded in my ears. Thump. Thump.

With each thump, I felt dragged closer to the edge.

Closer to the direction in which the gaze zapped from. With my breath catching in my throat, I groggily raised my chin and flashed my gaze in the direction of the man seated on the corner of the VIP seat.

The colorful lights buzzed over his features. He was tall, 6’5— maybe ‘5. He had dark features and long, unruly hair that cascaded down to his neck. Unruly strands brace the edge of his face as the lights flash white for a second. I caught a glimpse of his eyes.

They were green. Dark green.

Dressed in a slightly unbuttoned black silk shirt on black pants and shoes that looked like they were made for walking over lesser wolves. Wolves like me.

I tried to sniff him. The scent of dark amber and danger curled into my nostrils, steering heat in my wolf as I felt the ground beneath me tilt. I gripped the stripping pole for support, steeling myself as my heart raced harder than it had ever done in a long while.

The last time my heart pounded with this much frequency was when I met him. My parents mur—

I held his gaze sharply, waves upon waves of fear building up my spine when all of a sudden, he tilted his gaze to the side and pulled a lady close to him. I recognized her to be Cecilia, a private escort who had once worked in the club but had retired after capturing the attention of a billionaire alpha from the club.

His hand cupped her jaw possessively, pulling her close as if to kiss her, but he paused halfway and muttered an order. It didn't take long before Mr. Bucker strutted towards me.

Once close enough, he muttered. “You see that man over there—”

I didn't need to turn my gaze towards where he was pointing for me to know it was him. The man whose scent had successfully stirred my wolf uncomfortably.

I clenched my jaw tightly, eyes fixed on him. How could a man be so stiff yet so… I shook off thoughts in my mind as Mr. Bucker's voice chirped in. “He’s the biggest mafia mogul alpha in all territories. He barely visits, and even if he does, it's rare for any of our strippers to get his attention. Last time, it was Cecilia and Cael— it was three years ago. The thing right now is….”

Hesitation clung to his voice.

“What?” I prodded.

“The thing is he wants you, Cael. That rarely happens. He wants a private dance with you. No one's going to be there. I advise you to take your time in seducing him. Getting his full attention can get you a contract to be one of his toys.”

A mask of rage flashed over my features. “I’m not interested. And for all I care, he can choke on his own dick.”

I've heard stories of the man Cecile left the club for. I heard stories of how rude he was and how much power he controlled. I heard rumors that all of his past flings disappeared mysteriously after their contracts expired. Many people would've straight up thought they traveled to different parts of the world to restart their lives, but I knew there was more to it.

More to him.

I walked towards the stairs leading down the stage without sparing him a second glance when all of a sudden, I heard a voice. “Don't walk out of this. He plans to reward you handsomely.”

“I said I don't care. He can go f—”

“$10,000!”

The crowd roared. The music stopped, and so did I. And just like that, the devil placed a price on my soul—and it had four damn zeroes.