In the Arms of the Alpha King

[Elena Sinclair] Girls just want to have fun and, if possible, dance the night away, but their mamas will never understand. Music blare, the bass throbbed through my veins as I swayed to the rhythm; the lights flashing as the music reverberated through the packed club. Sweat clung to my skin from the dancing, The world felt electric, pulsing with a kind of reckless energy and the thrill that comes with been young as we ground our bodies against each other. I and my bestie, Ruby. My phone buzzed in my pocket, barely noticeable against the pounding music. I ignored it at first, lost in the moment, but then it buzzed again and again. Reluctantly, I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, the name flashing there instantly sobering me: *Mum*. A sigh escaped my lips. “b***h, f*****g save that last dance for me,” I yelled at Ruby, voice at the top of my lungs. She flipped me a f**k you sign, yelling back, “Yours already, bitch.” I pushed myself through the throngs of dancing bodies, the sound of the music growing distant as I found my way to a quieter corner near the exit. The air was cooler here. I pressed the phone to my ear and answered. “Hey, Mum,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The last thing I wanted was for her to know I was at a club. “Elena, where are you?” Her voice was sharp, with that familiar edge of displeasure. “I’m just out with some friends,” I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t press for details; why did she even call? It was not even of her concern if I spent the night out; she never cared. “Out where? It sounds noisy. You’re not... at one of those clubs, are you?” Her tone shifted, deepening into something more serious. I hesitated. Why is she suddenly interested in my whereabouts? “No, not really. Just at a party. You know it, Ruby’s birthday; she is throwing a girl’s fun night.” She sighed, and I could picture her pinching the bridge of her nose with her long-manicured nails. The way she did it when she was trying to keep calm, but she doesn’t know, makes her look like the devil's advocate. “Elena, please tell me you are been responsible; I don’t want you doing anything stupid, especially tonight. Remember, we are moving into Volkov House tomorrow; this is a one-huge chance to stardom; I wouldn’t appreciate you ruining it for me with your silly, youthful nonsense.” I eye rolled at her remarks. How could I possibly forget when she had been ranting about it all day? The jackpot she has hit, she could cut the crap for all I know she is after the man’s pocket and fame; she doesn’t even love the man, and I hate being part of her pawn games. It wasn’t that I dislike him; he is a good man, which my mum sure doesn’t deserve, but the thought of moving into his house and having him as stepdad made my stomach turn; it felt too fast, too much, and it would be pointless to argue with mom over it. “I know, mum, no liquor, and I will be home soon,” I said, hoping she would end the conversation quickly. “Do you think I should wear that red body hug gown? You know, to bring out my assets, the boobies, and the asses... Oh, Roman loves when I flaunt them out.” I cringe at her, trying so hard not to picture her in the dress. It was too sultry; leave nothing to imagination; sometimes I wonder who the girl is between us; total stark contrast to each other. “Whatever you choose, you will look good.” I reply. “Good, too bad you’re not here; I will have used your help with the jewelry set; nevertheless, I will figure it out.” I nodded at her, like she could see me. An incoherent, loud moan came from nearby. “Was that someone moaning?” Mum inquired, old but sharp ears. I quickly ended the call to avoid further interrogation and explanation that I’m not ready to indulge too. Sighing, I stood there for a moment, the phone still in my hand, trying to shake off the uneasiness I was suddenly feeling. The moans came louder than last; it was from a room nearby, and the door left slightly open for passerby-free viewership. Great, able to secure the room, but not thoughtful enough to bolt the door. well; I’m not certainly interested in your live porn. I begin to inch away from the door, but then I hear it. “Oh yes, Sebastian, f**k me harder.” My blood ran cold. I knew I shouldn’t care, that name could be anyone, right? Why then is my boyfriend the only one on my mind? I should just walk away, yet something compelled me to take a look. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system, or maybe it was just morbid curiosity to prove my doubts wrong, and I found myself creeping closer, the moans growing louder as I approached the door, paying deaf ears to the warning alert blaring on my head; keys were hanging in the key lock; the door left ajar. The moment seems to freeze as I stare at the unfolding scene. There they were—Sebastian, my boyfriend, the guy who had sworn he loved me, scantily clad together in a heated wild f**k with our academy popular girl Natasha as he pounded into her. His hands roamed her body, her moans filling the air as their lips met in a passionate, aggressive kiss. They were oblivious to everything around them, lost in their own world of lust and betrayal. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I just stood there, frozen, as the reality of what I was seeing crashed down on me. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. But it was. And there was no denying it. I was stunned to act, couldn’t move, or talked as I watched in disgust, torn by betrayal. We had come together, and he had left to get us drinks. Guess he had his filled with the juice of my nemesis. Of all people, he had to bring me tears, was her he chose, heartbreak is one thing, and my ego is another. Why embarrassed me this way? I was tongue-tied. Natasha seems to have noticed they had voyeur company; sighting it, she smirked devilishly at me. “Oh, Serb baby,” she feigned, moaning out loud, “harder baby, break me. Oh god, you’re so good,” she taunts wickedly while the i***t obliges, f*****g her wildly. I felt utter disgust towards him. “Tell me, baby, tell me I’m better than that insolent b***h Elena,” she mocked. “Yes, Tasha,” he grunts, “you are way f*****g better than that b***h, so plain and boring.” He hurls words as my heart shatters, breaking into pieces as I stare, clenching my fist, knuckles turning sheet white, having this urge to pounce on them, but I maintain my composure, glaring hard at Natasha. Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled back, my chest tight with the effort of holding in a scream. I turned and walked out the door, bolting it shut, but on a second thought, I walked back, locking it from the outside as I stowed the key away, out of sight. They could f**k for all I care; the image of them burned into my mind. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get away to escape the pain that was tearing me apart from the inside. I felt betrayed and devastated; it would have been better to live with the ignorance of not knowing, living with the idea that Sebastian been the perfect boyfriend. With a dampened mood, I walked back to the room. The noise and lights hit me like a wall, but I barely noticed. I made my way to the bar, the neon lights casting eerie shadows over the rows of liquor bottles, the only thought in my mind being to drown the pain. “Shots,” I ordered at the bartender; once it was served, I took it in a gulp, grimacing at the taste that burned down my throat. Good, I want to be sober, numb all the pain away. “More” I pushed the glass at the bartender; he eyed me. “Everything’s all right, ma’am?” his Scottish accent is thick. “Do your f*****g job?” I rudely reply, my tone sharp and horsed. Geez Elena, not the poor guy's fault you got dump. I berate myself; he eyed me long but quickly adhered to the instruction, “Make it stronger too.” I ordered while he mixed things, placing it before me. “Here you go.” Thirty minutes later, I was all sober and regretting my life. I am a failure, a labelled rogue w***e daughter, and I couldn’t keep a boyfriend. I drowned in my misery, laughing at my pathetic self. I scanned the room, my friends rocking the dance floor. I contemplated joining them, but tossed the idea. I was all alone; my wolf had shut off all connection with me today. I will have shift and go howl till dawn, my pains out, till I can’t feel my voice. Another reminder of my weak omega ability. The hair in my skin picked up, and there was an intoxicating scent and pull. Feeling like I was being watched, I turned, and then I saw him. He was standing at the end of the bar, watching me with a gaze that seemed to pierce right through me. Dark hair, chiseled features, an aura of mystery that made him stand out even in the dim, chaotic atmosphere of the club. His eyes were intense, like he could see every broken piece of me, and yet there was something comforting in that gaze, something that made me feel less alone. There was something about him that drew me in—something dangerous and alluring all at once. I wasn’t thinking clearly, the alcohol and heartbreak mixing into a toxic brew that clouded my judgment. The alcohol buzzed in my veins, giving me a boldness I wouldn’t normally have. I sauntered seductively over to him, swaying slightly on my feet as I met his gaze head-on. No word spoken; he scanned me; I did likewise; he was beyond captivating, the lust and haze kicking in, as well as my arousal; he has an aura I couldn’t resist submitting to; exactly what I need at the moment, someone older to dominate me and seize control; show me how it has been done. My arms navigated his neck, holding him close to my reach, and I slammed my lip against his and Goddess. It was magical; it was like I had unlocked an insatiable desire as the current flowed right at me, so electric and addicting “f**k” I pulled out, missing the feeling of his lip against mine. Breathlessly, I slurred, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Let’s cut the chase; admit it, I am hot. Wanna have a night with me? Show you what a girl I can be.” With a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips, he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against my skin, giving me goosebumps. He was intimidating and domineering; he grabbed me by the waist, pulling me closer, hands gliding down to squeeze my ass. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” men His voice was the sexiest deep I’ve ever heard from a man, so alluring, it reverberated across my entire system, sending shockwaves down my spine, making me go hot and feral. I traced my finger on his lip. “Less conservation, baby, more touch my body,” I tease him. “Mmm,” he bit my earlobe, sucking them wet as I squirmed in his touch and feral action, my c**t throbbing and aching for touch. He seemed to notice as he slid his finger in between my legs, teasing me as I moan out in his lips. “So hot. Make me want to punish you in all sinful ways of s*x,” he rasped, fingering me as I moan more in his mouth while he devours me. “Tell me, darling,” he pulled out his finger, tasting me, the action hot, making me more aroused. “What type of girl will you be?” He tucked the strand of my hair that had sprouted out of place. “I could be wild for you tonight; why don’t we move it from here and see for yourself? The question is, can you handle me?” I challenged. “Alright, princess,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Let’s see what type of girl you are.”