The Alpha’s Pen Pal (Crescent Lake Book 1)
The Alpha’s Pen Pal: Chapter 46

HAVEN

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Imogen as I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom of her penthouse apartment.

“About what?” she replied, leaning closer to the mirror to put on her red lipstick.

“All of it?” I answered. “The hair, the outfit, the shoes… it’s just… Well, it’s not really me.”

“What are you talking about? You look hot. Own it!” Ramón yelled from where he lounged on Imogen’s bed, sipping a glass of red wine.

“He’s right, you look hot,” Imogen agreed. “Wesley is an idiot,” she added.

My lips twitched halfheartedly, but I said nothing in response to her words.

“I TOLD YOU, WE BANNED THAT NAME FOR TONIGHT, IMMY!” Ramón yelled from the bedroom. “That’s another shot for you!”

Imogen just shrugged and turned away from the mirror. “Maybe I said it on purpose. Maybe I wanted to take an extra shot,” she said with a wink at me.

I laughed a little again, turning back to the mirror to put on my own lipstick. Then, I stepped back to give myself a final once over.

Imogen had straightened my hair and pulled it up into a sleek, high ponytail. She’d drawn dark eyeliner on my eyelash line and added mascara onto my long lashes. It drew focus to my big blue eyes, she’d said.

I tugged on the straps of the black spaghetti strap bodysuit, pulling it up so the neckline lay higher on my chest. Not that there was much to spill out or be exposed, but it was still a lower neckline than I was used to, and the champagne-colored sequined skirt was shorter than I usually wore. And paired with the strappy black heels Imogen insisted I wear, I felt out of my element for sure.

But Ramón and Imogen both said I looked great, so I was going to go with it and make the most of this night out.

Imogen was right. I needed it. Needed a distraction, and needed fun. And needed to work on my friendships with my fellow dancers.

“Wesley who?” I muttered under my breath, standing up straighter and tossing the end of my ponytail over my shoulder.

His cold shoulder—a real one, this time—was hurtful, and it stung, but I wouldn’t let it bring me down. I would have fun with my friends, and then, over the weekend, I would drive to Crescent Lake again and confront him. I had been too timid to follow through with that idea, but no more. He would get a piece of my mind.

“That’s one shot for you too!” Ramón called to me, and I laughed as I walked out of the bathroom to join them.

We made our way out of Imogen’s building and down the street to the club. The others from the company who were coming would meet us there. Imogen linked her arm through mine, the long sleeves of her glittery silver dress scratching my skin slightly.

Ramón linked with my other arm, his leather jacket cool against my skin. I was grateful for his presence because, one, Imogen and I would stand no chance against any men on our own, and two, because I hated the feel of eyes on me, especially when I wore something as revealing as I was wearing to go to the club.

“Don’t we need to wait in line?” I asked as Imogen bypassed the people waiting outside and walked straight to the door.

“Nope,” she said. “We’re on the list.”

The bouncer at the door nodded at us, not even asking for ID, and stepped aside so we could enter.

As soon as we were through the door, the thumping of the bass greeted us. It vibrated from the floor up through my feet and made the air itself tremble.

The sound resonated in my chest, and my heart worked to match the beat. The flashing lights of the neon signs and the spotlights above the dance floor cut through the otherwise dark club, casting an otherworldly glow over all the occupants.

Imogen led us straight to the bar, moving through the crowd with ease, like she’d been there hundreds of times. She shouldered her way to the edge of the backlit counter, squeezing in between a tall blonde man and a shorter, dark-haired female with full lips.

“We need six melon ball shots!” Imogen ordered over the loud music. “And two beers and…” She looked at me, waiting for me to tell her what I wanted.

“Oh, um…” I pursed my lips together in thought as I looked around the club, taking in the pulsing energy and the people’s movements on the dance floor. I searched my brain for the name of a drink—any drink—and said the first one that came to my mind. “A mojito?”

“And a mojito for the birthday girl!” Imogen finished, turning back to the bartender.

“Birthday girl?” he said, his brow raised as he glanced at me. “Your twenty-first?” he asked me, and I nodded. “First drink is on the house,” he said, flashing his pearly whites at me and tossing me a wink.

“Thanks,” I muttered, turning away from him to check for Ramón.

Ramón met my eye and threw his arm over my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze and pulling me slightly closer to him. I don’t know if he was just being friendly or if he sensed my discomfort with the flirty bartender, but I would not question it.

Imogen paid, and we stood there as he fixed our drinks. The brunette girl on the other side of Imogen watched the bartender intently as he mixed my drink and poured our shots, her eyes flicking up to the balcony where there was a giant, flashing VIP sign.

The darkness cloaked the occupants of the booths up there, so while we couldn’t see them, they could see us. I tore my eyes away from the furthest booth where she had thrown her glances, even though I could sense eyes on me from there.

“Thank you!” Imogen called to the bartender as he took her tip and walked away. “Cheers!” she yelled, passing us each two of the shots and our drinks.

Ramón lifted both of his shots, one in each hand, and nodded at me, waiting for me to grab mine. Imogen had hers ready, too, so I lifted one into my hand as well. We clinked our glasses together, then downed our shots, throwing our heads back.

I winced as the liquid went down, my eyes watering, but I didn’t let it show as I brought my gaze back to my friends.

Ramón was already wiping his mouth with his sleeve, setting both of his glasses down on the counter. Imogen did the same, only she used a napkin, dabbing daintily at the corners of her mouth.

I took the second shot quickly, seeing that my friends already had, then picked up my mojito to sip at it.

Imogen had her red lips wrapped around her bottle of beer, her hips swaying to the music as she drank. I smiled, watching her, vowing to myself that I would have as much fun as her tonight.

“Birthday girl!” the blonde man next to us said. “Let me buy you another drink.” He nodded at the almost empty glass in my hands.

“Um,” I hesitated, looking over my shoulder at Imogen.

I didn’t know how to navigate someone offering to buy me a drink. I’d never been to a club, and I wasn’t a huge drinker, anyway.

“He’s harmless,” the brunette girl sitting near us said, taking a swig of her beer. “And you’re not his type,” she added with a smirk, tossing her hair behind her, revealing her bare neck and shoulders exposed by her red off-the-shoulder dress.

“What is his type?”

“Male.” She chuckled, and my lips twitched.

Ramón shifted, turning to check out our neighbor, and I closed my eyes to hide them rolling.

“Ramón,” he said, holding his hand out to the man.

“Riven,” he replied, shaking it. “So, another drink?” he said, peering around at me.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. “Why not? I’m here to have fun and forget about dumb boys, anyway.”

“That’s the spirit!” the girl exclaimed. “Sarina,” she added, holding her hand out to me.

“Haven,” I replied, taking it, and she smiled as we exchanged a quick shake.

“When you’re done with your next drink, you and your friend should join me on the dance floor,” she said.

“Sure,” I replied, and Imogen lifted her arms in the air, screaming out a cheer at my response.

“YES! DANCING! No ballet!” she added, pointing at me.

“I know how to dance other styles, Immy,” I replied, taking the second drink from the bartender.

“Then chug that so you can prove it to me!”

I sighed but relented, downing my second mojito in just a few gulps. I smacked my lips as I finished, slamming the glass down onto the counter.

“Yes!” Imogen squealed, grabbing my hand and Sarina’s and dragging us to the dance floor.

As we reached our destination, the beat of the club music resonated deep in my body, awakening my senses and my soul. I loved ballet—loved the structure, precision, and gracefulness of the art form. But dancing like this—dancing like this was so freeing and exhilarating.

There were no rules with the type of movement evoked by club music. No specific way I had to hold or move my body. I could just move how I wanted, move with the beat and the feel of the music.

I was alive, alive in a way I hadn’t been since the night I’d spent with Wes. The weight of my worries and concerns slipped away, and I let the music take me to a place where nothing else mattered.

My body and hips swayed and twisted to the music, Imogen and our new friend Sarina moving right along with me. Sarina’s movements were wild and more exuberant than mine, while Imogen was more reserved with her dancing.

Others from the company came and went as we danced, greeting me and dancing with us and then going on their way with their own groups of friends.

I could feel eyes from every corner of the club watching the three of us. But it wasn’t much different from being onstage, and I was too caught up in the rhythm and the atmosphere to care.

Time seemed to flow differently on the dance floor, and before I knew it, Imogen said, “Havie, I need a break! My feet are getting tired!”

I wasn’t ready to take a break, but I also didn’t want to be left alone among a slew of people I didn’t know. So I followed Imogen and Sarina to the edge of the dance floor and back to where Ramón and Riven still stood at the bar.

“Ramón!” I yelled, hooking my arm through his and leaning my cheek against his arm. He’d removed his jacket, and his cool skin was soothing against my flushed skin. “Dance with me!”

“Have a drink with me first!” He laughed.

“No, later!” I said. “I’ve had too much too close together. I need to dance it all out.” I bounced around and shook my hips as I spoke to him, moving backwards and holding my hand out to him as I waited for him to take it and follow me.

He eyed my hand, then glanced at Imogen, who waved him away.

He took my hand, and I grinned in victory, then led us back out to the dance floor. The crowd parted, making room for Ramón’s tall form, and I giggled.

“We should have brought you with us the first time!” I told him, and he just shook his head at me.

Ramón’s presence next to me kept the other men at the club at a respectful distance as we danced together. I hadn’t noticed before how they’d been getting closer than necessary, but with him near me, I realized what had been happening when it was just us girls.

I lost track of time again as we danced until I felt a heavy gaze on me. People had been watching me all night, but this one was different—predatory. I moved closer to Ramón, my dancing slowing and eyes scanning the club, trying to replace the source of the stare that made me uncomfortable.

Ramón picked up on my cues and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his body, his hand on my lower back in a subtle gesture that told others to back off.

“Thanks,” I whispered as we kept dancing, and he nodded and gave me a tight smile before his eyes started scanning the crowd and the club.

“Let’s go back to the bar,” he suggested, his head dipping down to my ear, and I swallowed and took his hand, clinging to it.

But before we could reach the bar, the music scratched to a stop, and the lights shut off. The power in the club was completely cut.

The sounds of screams, shouts and rushing footsteps filled the club, and in the chaos, my hand was wrenched out of Ramón’s and I was pulled into the throng of people trying to replace an exit.

Cell phones were pulled out, screens and flashes turned on to help see better, but all it did was create more chaos and made it harder for me to tell which direction to go in to get to my friends or the exit.

I tried to shove down my panic, but it rose along with everyone else’s, making it difficult to think straight and keep my head.

A hand grabbed mine and pulled me out of the crowd into a small, dark alcove. I tugged against their hold on me, aware that whoever had grabbed me wasn’t one of my companions for the evening, but their grip was too tight.

“Let me go!” I cried as they tugged me up against their large, muscular body.

I tensed as I inhaled, recognizing the harsh, cloying scent of the cologne. My eyes widened, and I fought harder, pushing against his chest, but it was futile.

He had always been stronger than me, and always used it to his advantage to get me to comply. Never straight-up abuse, but the threat of it was always there, lurking under his actions.

Lennox lowered his head to my ear, his hot breath and mouth making me gag. “Happy Birthday, Haven,” he said.

“Lennox,” I replied in a small voice, reverting to the timid version of myself he always preferred, even though I was no longer under his thumb.

My entire being screamed in protest as he pulled me by my wrist to the back of the alcove and through a door, out into the alley behind the club. I cried out, trying to get the attention of anyone that may be around.

But the chaos inside the club was the perfect distraction, and no one seemed to notice as we exited the building. I fought against his hold, but it was pointless.

My panic rose again, and tears threatened to fall, but I didn’t let them. I didn’t let the panic take hold.

His hand left me, and I let out a breath and turned to escape, but my relief was short-lived. He pressed me against the dirty alley wall, his hand wrapped around my throat as tight as he could make it while still letting me take shallow breaths.

His ice-blue eyes stared at my face, his glare harsh and heavy, worse than I had ever seen. His blonde hair was unkempt and greasy, adding to the overall feral behavior.

And he was pissed. At me, or something else, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter because I would be the one to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“I knew it was too much to hope that fate would give you to me,” he grumbled, his pupils darkening. “But I will still make you mine.”

“You’re delusional,” I choked out, my hands tugging at his wrists, trying to pull his hand away from my neck. “You don’t fucking own me. I’m not yours, and I will never be yours.”

His grip only tightened, though, his body pushing against mine and trapping me even more against the bricks. The tears in my eyes fell from both fear and the struggle to breathe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but he shook me and growled. “Look at me!”

I opened my eyes, too afraid to stand up to him and his demands. It wasn’t like with Wesley when I could choose whether to fight or give in. With Lennox, I always had to listen and obey.

He was crazy. I had seen him in a rage before, but this was different. This was something else.

His entire body began to twitch and vibrate unnaturally.

“You don’t get it, Haven.” His eyes were wild, and his grin was savage. “You are mine. You were always meant to be mine, and you will always be mine.”

Fur sprouted from his skin, his face and fingers elongated, and his body grew taller. I realized too late what was happening, what he was.

The claws around my neck scratched my skin, and I cried out in pain and fear as Lennox changed into a lycan right in front of me, just like Wesley had the other day. Only this lycan looked at me in anger and malice, whereas Wesley’s had stood patiently, giving me space to react to him.

His elongated fingers squeezed tighter against my throat, cutting off my voice and air. Dark spots flashed in my vision, my body reacting without a thought, kicking out at the lycan and trying to get it to back off and leave me alone.

But it didn’t matter or make any difference. Lennox—or his lycan—dove towards me, snarling. His jaw closed and locked around my body, right at the junction where my neck met my shoulder.

My mouth opened and closed as I attempted to scream or breathe or both, but nothing happened. My body shook in terror and pain, the dark spots in my sight getting bigger and staying longer.

Lennox bit down even harder, then pulled back to examine the spot he’d bitten, loosening his hold on me. My legs folded under me, my body collapsing to the ground, but he was on me again, diving towards my body on the ground, his teeth biting into that same spot.

My mouth opened again in a silent cry as his teeth tore through my skin again with no resistance, his beast growing more frustrated with each attack.

A flash of red fur entered my field of vision, and a familiar wolf knocked into Lennox, pulling his focus away from me and onto him.

Nolan.

He snarled at Lennox, and then they lunged at each other, rolling and grappling away from me.

My chest rose and fell as I took shallow breaths, trying to fill my lungs and breathe through the pain. I knew I was bleeding, but the pain in my neck and shoulder was too much for me to focus on anything else.

As the wolves fought in the alley, Sebastian crouched in front of me, naked from the waist up, his hands holding his shirt against my neck to staunch the blood flow. His hands shook as he pressed down on my wound.

His mouth moved but I couldn’t hear what he said. The alley spun around me as I grew more and more lightheaded from the blood loss. My eyes fluttered open and shut, and I caught the tail end of Sebastian’s words, holding onto them like a lifeline to prevent myself from blacking out.

“Hold on, Sparkles…”