Damian
The city was a beast, breathing smoke and neon. Its heart beat loud in the bass of nightclubs and the gunshots echoing from alleys. And tonight, Damian Blackwell owned it all.
He stepped out of his car, sharp suit cutting through the haze, scent rolling like smoke and steel. Pedestrians moved out of his way without being told. Alphas like him didn't need guards—their presence was enough.
But then he felt it.
A ripple in the air. A scent—sweet, sharp, forbidden.
His eyes landed on the alley beside the club. A figure leaned against the wall, hood pulled low. An Omega.
Not masking. Not bowing.
Staring straight back at him.
---
Ash
Stupid. Reckless. Death wish.
Ash knew all of that as he gripped the knife hidden under his jacket. His handler's words echoed: Cut him down, and you're free. End the Alpha, end the chain.
But Damian Blackwell wasn't just any Alpha. He was power in a human body, cold gray eyes scanning like blades, scent curling through the air and dragging at Ash's instincts until his pulse skipped.
His body screamed to yield. His mind screamed to kill.
The Alpha stopped a foot away, voice smooth as poison.
"Omega." His lips curved in a dangerous half-smile. "Do you know what happens to prey that bares its teeth at a predator?"
Ash's knife was out before Damian finished speaking, pressed against the expensive fabric over his heart. Close. Lethal.
"I'm not prey." His voice was low, steady despite the traitorous heat rising under his skin.
---
The First Spark
For the first time in years, Damian's composure cracked. A laugh rumbled in his chest, dark and delighted. He leaned into the blade, gray eyes glinting like stormlight.
"Good," he murmured, his voice curling over Ash's skin like smoke. "Because I don't fuck prey."
The words hit harder than the scent—the heat rising, the space between them charged, knife trembling in Ash's grip. He should have driven it in. He should have ended this.
But Damian was closer now, close enough that Ash could feel his breath, close enough that instincts and desire blurred into one unbearable truth:
The Omega wasn't hunting the Alpha.
He was already caught.
Ash
The knife trembled, not from fear but from rage—and something worse. Every breath Damian exhaled curled against his skin, heavy with Alpha dominance, sharp enough to make Ash's body betray him.
He pressed the blade harder, enough to nick fabric, enough to taste power for a fleeting second. "One step closer," Ash hissed, "and I'll gut you."
But Damian didn't flinch. Didn't even blink. Instead, he leaned into the steel, gray eyes burning with something feral.
"Do it," he whispered, voice low and taunting. "Cut me open. See what happens when you put your teeth in the throat of a wolf."
---
Damian
The Omega's scent was chaos—sweet vanilla tangled with gunmetal, heat wrapped around defiance. It was intoxicating. Maddening. He hadn't felt this alive in years.
The blade pricked his chest. He welcomed the sting. He wanted more—wanted to see how far the Omega would go before instincts broke him in half.
Damian's hand moved lightning-fast, clamping around Ash's wrist. He twisted, not enough to snap, but enough to send the knife clattering onto the pavement. In the same motion he slammed the Omega against the alley wall, forearm braced across his chest.
Ash's breath hitched, not from fear but fury. And yet beneath it, Damian caught the tremor of instinct—the Omega's body reacting, betraying.
Pinned. Fighting. Shaking. Wanting.
---
Ash
The wall was cold against his back. Damian's weight pressed down, Alpha scent flooding his lungs until his knees threatened to give out. Ash thrashed, snarling like a cornered animal, teeth bared inches from the Alpha's throat.
"Let me go," he spat.
Damian's lips brushed close to his ear, voice dark silk.
"Say it like you mean it."
Ash hated the shiver that ran through him, hated the fire pooling low in his belly, hated that his body burned when every part of him wanted to kill. He jerked forward, snapping his teeth—barely grazing Damian's jaw.
A mistake.
The Alpha laughed, low and dangerous, grip tightening on his wrist.
"You bite me, little Omega?" Damian murmured, gray eyes flashing. "Then I bite back."
And then his mouth crashed against Ash's—violent, consuming, a kiss that felt like both a battle and a claim.
Ash gasped against it, every nerve alight, knife gone, instincts screaming, body betraying—because this wasn't surrender.
This was war.