THE LYCAN'S STRIPPER MATE

CHAPTER 2

KIERAN BLACKWOOD

Jason, you're blind to the risks we're facing because of your actions. Humans wouldn't be a threat if it weren't for your recklessness in feeding."

He looks at me angrily, rising from his chair and glancing at each of us.

"Do you all believe this story? We're stronger than humans; we could easily take control of this world. I'm tired of hiding who I really am. They should know about who we are."

"Jason!"

"No, I understand now why you protect humans so much; she won't come back anymore; she's dead, Kieran. Maya is dead, and she won't come back to you."

"Don't talk about Maya!"

"It wasn't the vampires who killed her, it was the humans, and yet you still protect them; those people killed your mate, and you did nothing to stop it because you're weak, Kieran!", Jason shouts.

"That's enough! You've only brought us problems upon problems every day; two hunters were injured the night before and reported seeing a dangerous animal in the forest."

I decide it's time to act. I open the folder I brought with me, revealing a series of photos to everyone present at the council.

These are images that show the devastating results of Jason's actions, including mutilated and burned bodies as a result of his relentless pursuit of our kind.

Silence falls over the room as each person absorbs the images before us. It's a brutal reminder of the consequences of our actions, a reminder that the world is a safe place if humans don't know our identity.

Jason looks at me with more anger, and I look at him the same way. I can't allow this to continue.

I can see anger flashing in his eyes as his fists clench.

"The most important rule of our pack is not to kill humans, and you violated that in the past few weeks. As the alpha of our organization, I can no longer allow this kind of behavior."

"You're weak, Kieran. You're so weak that you never deserved to be the alpha of this group; I'm stronger than you, and I could have protected Maya that night, and now she's dead because of you."

I clench my fists tightly, and I see him getting closer to me. I try to keep control, but I know Jason won't give up until he has control of our pack.

"She screamed your name as she was dying, and you couldn't help her!"

"Shut up, Jason!"

"Your mate is dead, and you do nothing to punish the humans."

The atmosphere in the meeting room becomes heavy, charged with the tension that builds between me and Jason. His sharp words cut deep, challenging not only my leadership but the very principles that uphold our pack.

I feel anger bubbling inside me, like a beast ready to break free from its chains. I try to contain the fury, taking deep breaths and seeking to find the calmness that's so familiar to me. But as Jason continues to challenge me, questioning my decisions and undermining my authority, it's as if an invisible thread finally snaps inside me.

In a fit of rage, I lose control. In one swift, powerful movement, I push Jason forcefully against the nearest wall. My eyes change color, glowing with a wild intensity, while my claws emerge, sharp and menacing.

I feel fear stirring within Jason—a cold, sharp sensation that grips him as he stares at the strongest Lycan in the pack. He knows he's at a disadvantage and that he stands no chance against the relentless strength I now exhibit.

I don't hesitate. With firm hands, I rip the necklace from Jason's neck, a pendant shaped like a wolf on the mountain, a symbol of his connection to the pack and the secret organization we swore to protect.

"I, Kieran Blackwood, am banishing you from our organization and pack for breaking the most important rules of our nature. From now on, you're free to do as you please."

The words echo in the room, a final verdict that resonates with the weight of tradition and justice. Jason looks angry, his eyes sparking with indignation as he stares at me with restrained fury.

"You'll regret this, Kieran.", he says with a low growl, the threat hanging in the air between us.

"You don't know what you've done."

I remain unflinching, my gaze steady and determined. I know I've made the right decision, as difficult as it is. Jason may be a threat now, but I can't allow disrespect for the pack's rules to put everyone in danger.

I continue to look at him angrily, and in his pupils, I can see Maya's face smiling at me, her laughing the way I've always loved.

And seconds later, I can hear her screams, screaming my name and begging for help.

I quickly released Jason, seeing him leave the room quickly.

"Are you sure you made the right decision? Jason is completely unpredictable and can cause more problems now."

"He's free now, but his choices may kill him."

The city lights flicker like distant stars as I drive through the streets, my body tense and my thoughts tumultuous. The memory of Maya, my mate who is now dead, weighs on me like an anchor, pulling me into the abyss of sadness and pain.

There's nothing I can do to bring her back—nothing that can change the cruel fate that separated us.

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white under the pressure. Each beat of my heart echoes with the memory of Maya's sweet voice, saying she loves me.

It's as if she's here with me, even if only inside my mind, bringing a fleeting glimpse of comfort amidst the darkness.

I drive faster as if I could escape the pain that consumes me. Speed is a drug, a way to numb the mind and push away the dark thoughts that haunt me. But even as I speed through the empty streets, the pain persists, digging deep into my chest like an open wound.

Then, my eyes catch a glimpse of flashing lights in the distance, some kind of large bar or nightclub. An idea springs to my mind, an irrational impulse to seek relief in alcohol, to drown my sorrows in a sea of temporary forgetfulness.

I furrow my brow as I approach the establishment, a mixture of uncertainty and desperation clouding my judgment. But deep down, I know it's an escape, a way to temporarily evade the unbearable pain that consumes me.

I park the car in front of the bar, the engine still purring softly as I sit there, taking deep breaths and trying to gather the courage to enter.

The muffled sound of music seeps through the building's walls, a seductive invitation to forget, to leave behind the weight of the past and lose myself in the mists of the present.

With a resigned sigh, I step out of the car and cross the street towards the bar. Every step is an effort, a small act of courage amidst the whirlwind of emotions consuming me.

The air, thick with cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, envelops me as I enter the bar, my vision adjusting to the glittering lights and atmosphere saturated with lust.

But something seems out of place here. It's not just a simple bar; it's a strip club, where wealthy men gather to satisfy their darkest desires.

My eyes scan the chaotic scene before me, where patrons shout and throw money toward the nearly naked women dancing on the stage. It's a depressing spectacle, an expression of human decadence in its rawest form.

I decide to push forward, ignoring the curious glances of the bouncers as I make my way to the bar.

I sit on a worn-out stool and ask the waitress for the strongest drink they have.

"Dalmore 62 years old."

I need something to numb the pain stirring within me, something to make me forget, even if just for a brief moment, the devastating loss I've suffered.