Chapter 9
The deafening beat of the music thundered through the club, rattling against my eardrums until I thought I might go deaf. Yet, instead of recoiling, I felt strangely drunk on the rhythm, intoxicated though not a single drop of liquor had touched my lips.
Maybe I was a lightweight. Or maybe a heavy drinker. The truth was, I had no idea. In my previous life, my fragile body had never allowed me the luxury of alcohol. I had avoided it entirely. But here and now, in Hazel's body, every sound, every thrum of bass, every flicker of light made me feel alive.
I pushed forward, weaving through bodies pressed together, sweat glistening, pheromones thick in the air. I hadn't come for trouble—I had come for fun. For release.
When the bartender slid a glass into my hand, ruby liquid sloshing within, I accepted it without hesitation. The wine burned faintly on my tongue, sweet yet sharp, as I stepped onto the dance floor.
And then it happened—Hazel's body remembered.
Her slender waist swayed, her hips rolled, her legs carried rhythm with an elegance so natural it startled me. I had never danced before, not in my past life, but her memories guided me, shaping me into something like a professional. My movements drew attention immediately. Eyes turned. The air shifted. But the moment I noticed the swarm of men inching closer, I retreated.
I would not allow myself to become sandwiched between leering bodies, nor permit filthy hands to grope Hazel's form as though it were public property.
Instead, I settled into a chair, lifting my glass again, watching the strippers perform under flickering neon. They were perfect for the stage, sculpted bodies twisting with practiced seduction. Yet… nothing stirred within me.
No arousal. No excitement.
Nothing—except the intrusive replay of that night with Val.
My grip tightened on the glass. Why now? Why here?
I dared not admit that I liked it, but I couldn't say I hated it either. The memory overlapped everything, leaving me restless and unsettled.
"Damn it," I muttered, ruffling my hair. Frustration coiled inside me, and in defiance, I tossed back the rest of my wine in a single gulp.
Another drink followed. And another.
It was then that I felt it—a hand slinking around my waist. Fingers creeping along my side, slow, possessive. My stomach twisted. A wave of sheer disgust surged so violently that I almost vomited.
Jerking upright, I tore myself free, shoving away the touch as though it were poison. My eyes snapped toward them—men with lust painted across their faces, eyes glimmering with calculation and filth.
They wanted me. They thought I was prey.
I stepped back toward the counter, my hands curling into fists. Their gaze stayed locked on me, their lips curled in smugness. I knew exactly what they were planning.
My instincts screamed. Get out.
I threw money onto the counter and paid my bill. Better safe than sorry. I could not even handle Val when he pressed his full weight of danger upon me—how much worse would it be if multiple alphas cornered me together?
But the exits—damn it—they were everywhere. Blocked. Every door, every path, shadowed by men who lingered like wolves awaiting their kill.
If I walked into the restroom, I might as well hand myself to them on a silver platter.
Think. Move. Survive.
My legs carried me swiftly into the lodge area, each step faster, sharper, desperate. Behind me, I felt their eyes, their intent, their hunger.
Pheromones exploded around me, suffocating the air. Heavy, dominant, pressing.
But instead of buckling, anger erupted in me. My body reacted on its own, releasing my own pheromones, sharp and cutting like glass.
I was an alpha too. But against many? Running was the only choice.
I darted around a corner, feet pounding against the floor, lungs burning. The lodge twisted endlessly, corridors winding into darkness. My breath quickened, chest heaving, and then—
The smell hit me.
Metallic. Acrid. Blood.
The stench was so thick it coiled into my throat. My instincts screamed—go back, now!
But when I turned, I froze.
They were there. Their gazes glowed unnaturally, tinted with a lust that had stripped them of reason. Animals in heat. Their eyes burned red, feverish, ravenous.
It reminded me of Val that first night. His gaze had not been red, but gold. Gold that burned into my soul, terrifying and captivating.
My chest tightened with something dangerously close to regret. He was the safest for me… and yet the most dangerous to everyone else.
My legs buckled. Betrayal. My body failed me, collapsing to the ground.
Not now. Not here.
They advanced, smirking, savoring every inch of my helplessness.
My blood went cold. My heartbeat roared, a thunderous, panicked drum.
Was this it? Was I about to be raped? Was this the fate victims spoke of, the despair they carried when they whispered their truths?
Hopelessness. Weakness. Shame.
No.
My fear twisted into rage. I would not surrender to this. I had died once—I would not die again.
Heat flared in my veins. Strength surged from nowhere. My body moved before my mind caught up.
With a snarl, I sprang up, running with everything I had, the floor blurring beneath me. Hope flared—but then it died.
Halfway down the corridor, my body was yanked upward, lifted effortlessly. My stomach lurched as I was thrown over a strong shoulder, like a sack of grain.
"No… no, no, no!" I screamed, thrashing, fists pounding against iron-like flesh. "Not like this! Not with them! I don't want to be raped!"
My struggles, my threats, my wails—they only fueled their hunger. To them, it was music.
My heart pounded. My blood ran ice.
Will I survive this?