How did it come to this? Drinking alone in Club Knotty on a theme night where everyone else is dressed like superheroes. This may be an all-time low, but it was either drown my sorrows or return home to mope.
I scowl at the students around me, posing in their silly costumes, their stupid capes slapping my arms as they pass. I grimace as I get another eyeful of another guy’s junk in an ill-fitting Spider Man costume.
Clubs aren’t usually my scene. It’s the first time I’ve ever been to Club Knotty outside of a work shift. Being deafened by a group of squealing girls raving about the recent announcement that Jagger Knight will be releasing a solo album soon already makes me question my decision to come here.
After grabbing another beer, I’m heading back to my quiet, dark corner when a stupid jerk wearing an SVU Foxes jersey bashes into me.
Behind him, I spot a few of Sabs’s volleyball teammates and familiar faces that I recognize from the beach party. Looks like some of them have decided to end the night here.
Hope pulls at my heart as I eagerly scan the crowd, longing to catch a flash of red hair among the sea of orange jerseys, but no luck.
“I can’t believe Adler went home with her!” The blonde I overheard talking about Sabs earlier is still harping on the subject. “What does she have that I don’t?”
A red-hot poker of anger pierces my chest, imagining Adler Ace’s hands all over Sabs.My Sabs.
“Forget about him, Cindy.” An alpha with his back to me who has an abnormally rectangular-shaped head sidles up to her, obviously trying to get his dick wet. “I don’t know why he’d pick some volleyball slut over you. She’s probably just easy. I bet she’d spread her legs for anyone.”
My fury reaches its boiling point. I’m not sure whether I’m angrier at learning what andwhoSabs is likely doing this evening or listening to how this asshole is talking about her.
I step from the shadows as the guy turns, squaring my shoulders. The mouthy alpha notices me right away, his back straightening and nostrils flaring. I recognize him. Only last week my colleague, Rook, had to pull this asshole off a drunk freshman for trying to scent mark her without consent. Calling Sabs a slut is the last straw.
“What are you staring at?” he growls at me. “Do you have a problem?”
I put my beer down. “Actually, I do.”
Someone’s got to teach him a lesson.
“Oh yeah?” He steps closer, the smell of liquor on his stale breath causing me to grimace. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Alcohol and alpha pheromones don’t mix, especially not with this thumbtack, who has probably lost the majority of his brain power from being hit by hockey pucks.
A crowd circles us, and what happens next a blur under the flashing neon lights. He raises his fist to throw the first punch—that, at least, I’m sure of—but seconds later, it’s me who has him pinned to the floor. My hand is around his throat, my tensed arm raised in the air, ready to make him regret ever disrespecting her.
“Ge’off me.” His words come out as a wheeze, his face turning a dark shade of purple, but I’m past seeing reason.
My body simply reacts without thinking, moving with a terrifying, fluid efficiency that is governed by pure primal instincts. The relief of finally being able to unleash my anger leaves me feeling the freest I’ve been in weeks.
This is exactly what I need. And though my brain registers that it’s sick, a wave of satisfaction ebbs through me when my fist makes impact with his face.
“Stop!” I continue acting on impulse, ignoring the shrieking from the sidelines. “He’ll kill him!”
Numerous hands come from out of nowhere, hauling me off him. I look up to see I’m surrounded by a group of fuming hockey players who look to be out for blood. Taking on one alpha was easy, but five of them at once? With all my simmering rage, I probably don’t have a chance, but I’ll fucking try.
The guy whose nose I just broke scampers to his knees, whimpering. Tension bubbles in the air as I look at my bloody hands, then one of the hockey dicks lunges at me. He’s powerful yet uncoordinated, so I maneuver my body in a way that makes him bounce off me, giving me a chance to push him into a table. There’s a crash as glasses fall to the floor and smash around him.
“Want more?” My lip curls into a sneer, not recognizing the roared words that come from me.
As the group circles me, the other people in the club either flee or gather to watch. When the club lights flicker on above us, I squint under the stark, white blast as a familiar figure approaches.
“Enough!” Rook’s voice reverberates through the space, the other alphas hurriedly stepping back. His bark has no effect on me, but how dare he try to influence me? Rook has an extremely potent alpha bark, which means that even alphas outside of his pack have a hard time not complying with his orders.
This is your chance, a menacing voice in the back of my head encourages me. I dust myself off, readying for another attack before my logic has time to catch up.
Rook isn’t alone, flanked by Damon Cross and a few other security guards. They all share the same expression—surprise mixed with concern—at witnessing my undoing. We all work together. They’re not supposed to be cleaning up a mess that I’ve made.
“Drax?” Rook surveys my blood-spattered clothes. “What happened?”
“Let me finish what I started,” I grunt. “Don’t stop me.”
