Chapter 4

THE MEETING.

One week later...

LAVO NIGHTCLUB, NEW YORK

Ismena walked through the door of the club. All of the dancers were sultry-looking females, beautiful and nearly naked. Some of the men were laughing and dancing with these women. Some were taking shots of drinks at the bar-side.

Wisps of smoke cast a dream-fog around them, and pinpricks of starlight rained from the swirling strobe, illuminating everything inside the darkened nightclub in slow, sweeping circles.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a scintillating glimpse of a taut masculine ass pounding forward, back, forward, into an ecstatic woman. Ismena shook her head. These women that just bent to their waists and have sex in a club, how exactly do they manage to do so with reckless abandon?

She wants wild, but not this wild.

These past few days have been glorious for her. She walked towards the bar and ordered her drink, she was smiling as she remembered her fun time in the amusement park. She'd conquered her lifelong fear of heights when she'd ridden that rollercoaster.

"Just margarita?" The young blonde bartender asked her with a polite smile on his face.

"Yes, please. Maybe, with a little mix. Add tequila too." No intentions of getting drunk, but being very relaxed is not a bad idea.

It had been really hard in the beginning when she'd strapped herself into that rollercoaster, but eventually, she'd gotten the hang of it, especially when she grabbed the hands of the stranger beside her. She'd screamed half of the way, she recalled with a small smile on her lips.

But in the end, she rode the rollercoaster over and over again. Victorious and exhilarating, that was what she felt as she ticked off the 'Conquer a lifelong fear.' from her To-Do List.

Before morning, she'll be ticking off the one and two on her list. 'Go to a club.' and 'Have a one-night-stand with a total stranger'.

At the other end of the club, a man sat on the couch of that secluded area, sipping his vodka slowly. The wolf likes the drink, but the mountain lion is not onboard with the alcohol. Not that alcohol ever affects him.

Wolfariane Daminor Throne waited for Alphose to join him, even as his eyes calmly took note of everything that was happening around him. He saw her enter, the woman who has drawn the attention of half of the men in the club, even without seeming to be aware of it.

She sipped her drink, smiling to herself occasionally. Most of their eyes followed her every movement, and why wouldn't they? The woman looks like sex on legs.

In that tight-fitting flirty black strapless gown that clung to her shapely body like a second skin, the woman looks gorgeous. And with a face like that?

Oval, brown-colored eyes, oxbow mouth made for kissing, and velvet-black eyebrows that casts a shadow under her eyes whenever she lifts the glass of whatever she is drinking to her lips, she is exceptionally enthralling.

Add the pale-yellow hair that flowed over her shoulders and you get walking, breathing, work of art.

Not that he cares at all what she looks likes. He has no intentions of mingling with any human here, least of all, a woman.

He looked away.

His thumb played with the huge diamond sparkling ring in his middle finger for a while before he removed it and slipped it into his back pocket. It's a very special ring, he has no intentions of drawing the interest of human thieves to it.

His eyes following the movements of bodies on the dancefloor, taking another sip of his drink irritably. What the hell is keeping Alphose?

In the past few days, since he landed in New York City, he has been very busy at his company, trying to develop business strategies with Cronus, his packmates, and Alphose. After putting in so much work and sleepless nights, it's beginning to pay off. There have been some good positive changes in the sales of the new fertilizer products. But he has been feeling wiped out.

So, he'd come here for a little bit of relaxation while waiting for Alphose to get the remaining papers from Cronus and meet him here. So they can make plans of what next to do here, and when to go over to Oklahoma.

The smell of sex, drinks, and perfumes in the air of the enclosed space of this club has bombarded his nose, or he would have been able to scent Alphose—if he's close or not. It made him uncomfortable.

The black wig he had on to hide his unusual colored hair was making him uncomfortable too.

Unbiddenly, his eyes went back to the woman. Two men have walked up to her. The way their smiles are slowly dying off instead of broadening further told him that she must be turning them down. In a polite way too, seeing the smile that remained on her face.

Then, she got up, staggered a bit, and began walking away to the bathroom—if his guess is correct.

After she disappeared behind the door. The two men looked at each other. A look passed between them. A love of pure, evil intent. They followed her.

Not his business. He looked away.