Chapter 1 HEAT IN THE DARK

CHAPTER 1: HEAT IN THE DARK

SELENE’S POV

The trembling in my body refuses to stop. Every muscle quivers as if I’m standing on the edge of something dangerous, something I shouldn’t touch but crave with every part of me. Heat pulses through my veins like molten fire, curling in my belly and licking up my spine. I try to ignore it, to pretend I can keep it contained, but the ache is relentless, coiling tighter with every breath I take.

The bass thunders through the club, each beat vibrating in my bones, threading itself into my blood. The music doesn’t just play—it wraps around me, sinks its teeth into me, makes my body move with a hunger I can’t tame. Lights flash in shades of crimson and gold, blurring into a haze that makes the place feel even wilder, as though the shadows themselves are watching.

I shouldn’t be here. I know that. This place is wrong for me, forbidden. If my father finds out, he’ll be beyond furious—he’ll be catastrophic. The kind of furious that brings punishment I don’t even want to imagine. But right now? I couldn’t care less.

He pushed me here.

He made me this reckless.

And if my night ends in ruin, then he can bear the weight of it.

This—me being here—is my punishment for him. My silent rebellion against his cold, cutting words and the way he humiliated me in front of everyone. His voice had dripped with disgust, branding me as a weakness, a shame. The memory burns like acid in my chest.

I grit my teeth and shove it away. I don’t want to think about him. Not tonight. Not when the rage in me is burning as hot as the heat I’m trying to resist. I just want to lose myself. Lose the shame. Lose the rules. For once in my life, I want to stop being the Ravencroft daughter who’s always on display, always under control.

I’ve fought this curse for too long—this insatiable pull that flares even when it shouldn’t. My heat has haunted me for as long as I can remember, clawing at my composure until I’m left raw and shaking. Tonight, I’m done fighting. Tonight, I let go.

Three bottles of the club’s strongest liquor burn their way down my throat before I even feel the edge of my restraint fraying. My head feels light, the room spinning just enough to blur the sharpness of reality. I throw my head back and scream with the music, letting it vibrate through me until I’m dizzy with it.

Eyes are on me. I can feel them, dozens of them, some hungry, some curious, some already undressing me in their minds. But I don’t care. I’m beyond caring. I’m surrounded—locked in the wolves’ den by men whose reputations are as dark and dangerous as this place. Brutal men who could take me, use me, break me, and leave me in pieces.

To hell with all of it.

I’ve played the perfect daughter long enough, and all it’s given me is humiliation.

The flashing lights blur. My head swims. My body moves without conscious thought, hips swaying, hands sliding over my sides as I surrender to the pull of the beat. Somewhere through the haze, a touch brushes my back. I spin, and through the fog of alcohol I see him—a stranger with a wicked, knowing smile carved across his mouth.

His lips move. Words I can’t quite catch spill from him, lost under the pounding music. Before I can focus, another touch slides against my ass, firmer this time. I whip around to find another man there, his eyes dark and glinting.

That’s when I realize—I’m being surrounded.

The air shifts, thickening until every breath feels like a drag of smoke into my lungs. The men move closer, bodies rolling to the music but eyes fixed on me. They’re circling, biding their time like predators deciding when to pounce.

My heart kicks hard against my ribs. Somewhere deep inside, my wolf stirs.

"Selene, leave now."

Her voice—Lisa’s voice—is sharp, urgent, cutting through the alcohol haze.

I don’t move. I can’t. Or maybe I don’t want to. The alcohol still rules my senses, muffling her warnings into something I can ignore.

Then one of them grabs me. His arms are solid bands of muscle, crushing me against him until I feel the unyielding planes of his chest and stomach. Heat blooms in me like wildfire. The possessive way he holds me only feeds the sensation, makes me crave more.

I feel him—hard, thick, pressing against my lower stomach. My eyelids flutter at the contact, a rush of shame and need flooding me.

Not here. Not now.

I try to pull back, but his grip only tightens. His hands roam without hesitation, cupping my ass, pulling me harder against him. His lips graze the side of my neck, warm and insistent, and before I can stop it, a moan slips out of me—soft, betraying, dangerous.

The others have noticed. I catch movement in my peripheral vision—two, maybe three more men closing in. Their faces blur in the shifting light, but I can feel the weight of their attention, the collective hunger building around me. My teeth catch on my bottom lip, and gods help me, the idea of them closing in only makes the heat worse.

Lisa’s voice slams into me again, sharper this time. "It’s your mating heat, you fool! Get out now before—"

Her warning fades beneath the flood of sensation. My body trembles, my skin burning as the man behind me drags his hand lower, fingertips teasing along my thighs, slipping under the hem of my skirt, aching to touch what he shouldn’t. My arms lift almost on their own, looping around his neck as my back arches into him.

His mouth finds my throat again, tracing down toward my chest. My shivers make him chuckle, the sound low and rough against my skin.

“You must be a crazy little slut,” he growls into my ear, his tone both mocking and turned on. “Coming in here… with that scent. I can feel it—” his hand tightens on me, “—how much you’re craving to be fucked. And I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is come with me.”

“Oh, goddess…” The whisper escapes me before I can stop it.

I try to push away, I really do. But it’s like pushing against the tide. I finally understand why my father calls it a curse—this thing in me that refuses to be tamed. Other girls my age can control it, cage it until mating season. Me? I flare without reason, without mercy, pulling every male in range straight to me.

The insults from my peers echo in my mind—attention seeker, heat-chaser, slut. I’ve carried them for years. Maybe I am done carrying them. Maybe I should just give in, let this man—or every man in this club—take what they want. Maybe then the dizzying, clawing ache will finally go quiet.

Two more men step up behind me. One leans in close enough for his breath to ghost over my ass. The other grips my waist, his hands firm, trying to pull me from the first man’s hold. They’re all crowding me now, as if I’m the only living thing worth touching.

My body aches for it. My mind screams against it.

And then—

A voice cuts through the air like a blade. Deep, commanding, dripping with authority so raw it makes the walls themselves seem to tremble.

“Let. Her. Go.”

The music seems to falter under the weight of it. The men hesitate.

My brows knit in confusion. Who the hell—?

Before I can see, a rush of air brushes over my skin. Strong, unyielding hands grip me, pulling me out of their reach. The world blurs, shadows folding over me as I’m taken deeper into the club, into the darkness.

All I can feel is heat.

All I can feel… is him.