Craved By The Alpha Beast

The bass throbbed on the floor like a second heartbeat, shaking off the walls of The Crimson Veil underground elite club with every pulse. Smoke curled into the air like spirits dancing to the beat, red lights bathing the space in a lustful hue.

The VIP section was packed tonight with hungry eyes, powerful men, and mortal men with filled-up pockets. But no one looked away from the stage.

Because Nyra had just stepped into the light.

She walked. Her heels clicked once, twice, before she reached the pole at the center and wrapped her legs around it. Her skin glistened under the light, catching every curve; The tight silver dress she wore barely covered her body.

She moved with a confidence that made men sweat and the few of her female coworkers grit.

Cheers exploded from the upper deck as she twirled, flipping upside down, her body arching like a bow. Hair trailing, thighs gripping the pole. She spun and landed with feline grace.

"That's it, baby!" someone shouted.

An old man in his late fifties sat near the front of the stage. He leaned forward as Nyra dipped low, teasing closer to the edge. His breath was thick with whiskey, his fingers twirling with need. As her hand extended toward the audience, he reached out to grab her wrist.

Immediately, Nyra slapped his hand away with a sultry smile. It wasn't rage but dominance. To her, it was a silent command that she was untouchable. The old man jerked his hand back, startled and slightly aroused.

The VIP section erupted in applause and laughter.

She twirled again, slower, her back arching as her gaze scanned the room. She could feel them all watching and panting for her. But she didn't damn care. This was her stage.

Across the city, the air smelled of sweat, sex, and impatience. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the hotel suite.

Alpha Kael grunted as his hips rocked forward, his dick slamming into the woman's pussy beneath him with fast, brutal strokes. Her nails dug into his back, her moans high-pitched and desperate.

"Oh my! Fuck, yes, I'm cumming!"

She kept chanting his name, but they only dropped as noise to Alpha Kael's ears.

He stared past her, eyes dark. She was fucking wet. But she wasn't what he needed. Her scent was wrong, her voice irritating. He pulled out of her immediately.

He didn't come. Because he never did. To him, it was impossible.

"What... What are you doing?" The woman whispered.

"You can go now."

"What? We aren't done. Another round."

Alpha Kael ignored her, walking into the bathroom without another word. He turned on the cold water, letting it run down his broad, scarred chest. The steam mixed with chill as he washed her scent off his skin.

Minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom dressed in a black button-shirt tucked into tailored pants. He added a jacket and put on silver cufflinks which gleamed as he adjusted them.

Downstairs, his black SUV was parked in the lot. Alaric, his beta, stood waiting.

"Are we still good for tonight?" he asked.

Kael slipped on his watch. "You'll stay back when we get there. Handle anything that comes up."

"Why?" Alaric replied.

Kael shut him a look and rolled his eyes. "Do as you're told, Alaric. Don't get on my nerves. I want to see this partner myself."

Alaric raised a brow but nodded. "Okay. If you say so. It's understood."

Kael hummed in response as they hopped into the car.

The ride was silent until they arrived at The Crimson Veil.

"Stay in the car," he said, and Alaric threw his head back with a groan. "Fine. Whatever."

Kael stepped out of the car, handed a bundle of cash to the security at the entrance door of the club and collected his black-gold VIP ticket. The hostess who met him wore a see-through dress, her voice flirtatious and knowing.

"We have a special show tonight, sir," she said, her eyes lingering on his chest. "Let me take you there."

Kael said nothing. He followed her past the bar, through velvet ropes and up to the upper level of the VIP section.

He scanned the place, searching for the man he was meant to meet. Instead, his attention suddenly caught something else. Someone else.

The stage lit up again.

Nyra twisted her hips and spun, her hair fanned like a whip. Her movements were deliberate, sensual. She wasn't just stared at but devoured.

Alpha Kael's gaze locked onto her like he'd just spotted his prey.

She moved as though she felt his eyes on her. And then...her gaze shifted. Their eyes met.

Everything else melted away.

Nyra felt her chest tighten. The man sitting alone in the midst of the audience, drinking nothing, radiated a presence that made her skin prickle.

Suddenly, she missed a beat and, for the first time, her rhythm faltered. But she caught herself instantly and dragged her gaze away with a smile.

Kael didn't blink. His blood ran hot. She'd just looked directly at him, and that one stare did more to him than the sex from earlier. His body responded immediately and his wolf stirred.

She danced for him now. He knew it. Every move, every drop to her knees, every roll of her hips.

He watched her like he was already inside her.

Nyra's thighs tensed as she claimed the pole one more time. Her gaze flicked back to his seat. As the final note of the music rang out, she slid down with elegance until her feet touched the floor and she bowed slightly.

Another round of cheers and applause rented the air for the next few seconds.

Kael sat perfectly still, his breathing low but uneven. The business was suddenly irrelevant to him.

He stood slowly, adjusting his jacket to cover the ache in his pants.

For the first time in a long time, a woman had just caused his erection to stand dangerously hard.

The earlier music still echoed in Nyra's head as she slipped behind the curtains backstage. Her breath came in light gasps, but she masked it with a proud smile.

The adrenaline from the stage still shimmered in her skin. The stares. Fuck, those eyes–how could someone look at her like that?

"Nyra!" Madam Vexa's voice called out before Nyra appeared on the hallway corner past the other females preparing for their shows.

Vexa stood with her signature cigarette between two fingers, her silver hair raised in a bun, and her tight black dress hugged her frame that intimidated men half her age. She exhaled smoke through her nose, smirking.

"Now that's how you keep men coming back. You lit up that stage tonight, baby girl. Just as you always do."

Nyra forced a smile. "Thanks, Vexa."

The older woman waved an envelope at her. "Your pay and some bonus for tonight. You performed very well, and someone special saw you dance."

Nyra's smile wavered. "Someone special?"

"VIP guests initially. I reserved one of the red rooms. He wants a private show." she replied.

Nyra hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around the envelope.

Madam Vexa lifted an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're growing shy and thinking of rejecting it."

"No," she muttered. "Um.." she pursed her lips, contemplating the thought of it.

She didn't like giving the guests private shows, and Madam Vexa knew that.

"You know I don't like it," she blurted out before she could stop herself and Madam Vexa frowned.

"You know you owed me a lot when I accepted you to work here. It's just for a few minutes, and it'll be over," the woman responded. "The touching aspect, there won't be one if that's what you're afraid of. I promise." she assured her.

Nyra sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll do it." she mumbled and rolled her eyes. "Not like I have a choice."

"Good girl. That's more like it. It's going to be a win-win situation and more bonus if it goes out well enough," Vexa purred. "Room nine. You've got fifteen minutes to dress up and prepare."

**

In her dressing room, Nyra stood before the mirror, sliding into another dress. Black lace traced her curves and it barely covered her cleavages. She adjusted her hair, painted a fresh coat of red lipstick, and took a tiny can of pepper spray into the side of her straps.

Just in case.

She walked through the hallway in silence, her heels muffled by the plush carpet. She got to room nine in no time and took a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

The room was dimly lit, darkness swallowing every corner. A low couch sat at the side, and behind it, tall and still, a man.

He said nothing at first and leaned back, hands resting against the top of the couch. His silhouette was powerful.

Nyra could make out his features due to the darkness. The slope of his neck, the long legs spread with the casual arrogance of someone used to being obeyed.

"You're late," he said, his voice thunderous.

She blinked. "You didn't specify a time."

"Doesn't matter," he uttered calmly. "Do what you're paid for."

Nyra's jaw tensed. The fucking arrogance made anger bubble inside her.

Nevertheless, she trod forward, letting the rhythm of her body fall into the sensual sway she was trained in. She danced for him, every moment a silent performance meant to captivate. She turned, bent forward and ran a hand along her thigh.

She refused to let the tension in the room disrupt her. And right there, she heard it.

A male guttural groan.

It wasn't one of those fake groans men did to impress. It sounded ripped straight from the chest. A sound of hunger and frustration.

Nyra's spine stiffened for half a second. The man in the dark was watching her closely.

And stroking himself.

She didn't look directly, but she saw the slight motion of his hand, the stillness of his body broken by one thing only.

Her stomach churned. She kept moving.

But when she twirled near him again, his hands reached out and his fingers brushed her waist.

She jumped slightly and moved away, masking the reaction with a teasing laugh. "No touching, sir."

"You dance like you want to be touched," he muttered blankly. "You look like you need to be."

Her thighs clenched, but she continued dancing.

This time, he reached out again, firmer than the first.

"I said no touching," she snapped, twisting out of his grip.

He moved to stand, towering over her in the dark.

And Nyra had had enough.

In one swift motion, she reached beneath her straps, brought out the pepper spray and pressed it hard. A blast of burn came straight into his face.

He roared. "Fuck!"

He stumbled back. His arm swung blindly and hit the wall behind him. His elbow slammed into the light switch unknowingly.

The dim red lights went off and a spark of emergency lighting kicked in with golden beams flooding the room.

Nyra gasped.

What the hell had she done?

He stood for a while and bent slightly, blinking rapidly as he wiped his face.

But the damage was already done. Nyra saw who it was.

Tall and broad. His shirt unbuttoned and muscles visible. Jet-black hair brushed back, lips curled in a scowl.

And his eyes. Those eyes!

The same ones that stared at her from the VIP.

She recognized him instantly.

Alpha Kael gritted his teeth. He had fucking blown off the cover, and she'd seen him.

His gaze locked with hers, and despite the redness in his eyes from the spray, his expression was clear. He remembered her, too.

Silence rose between them. Nyra stopped what she was doing, legs wobbling and fingers trembling. She felt sweat beading her forehead.

Kael stared at her and smiled, low and dangerous.

"Found you,"

Instinctively, Nyra took a step back. And without a second thought, she screamed. "AHH!!!"

Nyra didn't stay back.

The moment that scream left her mouth, she spun on her heels and ran. Her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest.

She breathed out panicked bursts as she ran through the hallway, nearly colliding with a dancer on the way.

She ran into the break room, where Madam Vexa sat counting cash and scribbling on a note.

"What the hell happened to you?" Vexa asked, raising an arched brow as Nyra stormed in, cheeks flushed.

"I need to leave."

"Excuse me?"

Nyra went straight to her drawer, fled it open and yanked out her bag.

"I said, I need to leave. Tonight and right now. I can't put up with that."

Vexa's expression darkened. "Nyra, what are you talking about? You were requested by a top client. VIP. Big spender. You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" Nyra snapped, tossing her stage heels into her bag. "He touched me twice. And he wouldn't stop. He pissed me off."

Vexa rose slowly from her seat, as if realizing what her words meant. "What? You sprayed a VIP guest in the face? Do you know what kind of shit storm that could've caused?"

"I don't care. I don't dance for men like that."

"You dance for anyone who pays."

"Not anymore."

Vexa's jaw ticked. "You're not thinking clearly. Do you know who that was?"

Nyra slammed the drawer shut. "I didn't care if he was the King of Hell. I said no. And that should've been enough."

"You can't just walk out every time a man looks at you for too long. This is the Crimson Veil, sweetheart. Men look. They pay. You tease. That's the business."

"It's not a business when I feel like prey."

Vexa narrowed her eyes but said nothing as Nyra flipped her bag over her shoulder and stormed out of the club.

Alpha Kael walked out of Room Nine moments later, blinking against the hallway light, still blotting the pepper sting from his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Alpha?" Alaric met him near the entrance to the VIP section. "Are you alright?"

"She ran," Kael muttered without thinking. He hadn't even known how Alaric appeared when he'd instructed him to stay outside.

"She?"

Kael didn't explain. He adjusted his collar, pulled himself together and walked toward the reserved table where his business partner waited.

"Everything okay?" The man asked as Kael sat down.

"Yeah. All good."

"You sure?"

Kael took a sip of whiskey. "I've just found something worth chasing."

But even as the meeting progressed, and territory lines and cargo routes were discussed, his mind wandered. Her scent still lingered in his head. That laugh when she slipped from his grasp.

He'd had women squirm under him, beg for him, try to trap him.

But none had ever escaped.

At that moment, he didn't want a new deal. He wanted her.

**

Three days passed.

The buzz in the Crimson Veil hadn't died down. Whispers of the dancer who sprayed a VIP had spread like wildfire, but no names were mentioned. Madam Vexa kept her lips sealed, though her eyes scanned the place more than usual, wary of any fallout.

Nyra suddenly returned

She walked through the doors like she hadn't disappeared three days ago, with seductive confidence.

Some other dancers threw her curious glances.

"Thought you quit," one whispered.

"Thought you got fired," another muttered.

"You got balls coming back here," a third said.

Nyra just smirked. "I needed a break."

She took her place on stage that night, her body slipping into muscle memory, the rhythm of the music guiding her hips. The lights glowed red again, casting her in the familiar shadow-play of lust and power.

She twirled, her leg hooking the pole with effortless grace. The room roared.

But halfway through her performance, she met his gaze.

She felt it before she saw him. Her eyes skimmed the crowd until they found the spot near the end of the VIP.

There he sat.

Leaning back in his seat like he owned the place. Dark suit. Unreadable expression. But his eyes glowed.

The heat in his stare made her thighs clench around the pole. Her breath caught. Her hips faltered, just a beat, before she found her rhythm again.

"He's here again," she muttered to herself.

Nyra looked away, refusing to acknowledge the wetness building between her legs. But it didn't stop. Her body reacted without permission. A slow burn and an ache.

She spun again, dipped low and rolled her hips.

His gaze followed every movement, ravenously.

She could ignore the others. The men licked their lips. Nonetheless, it seemed impossible to ignore him.

Later, as she slipped off the stage, her heart still racing, she caught a whisper in the back hallway.

"The man in the upper deck back seat is freaking hot."

"Kael Draven?"

"Yeah. That's him. He's fucking handsome."

Her blood ran cold.

Kael Draven.

She'd heard of him. Ruthless and freaking rich. Feared at every border. The type that didn't ask twice. Nyra recognized him.

She clenched her fists.

She suspected he was the one she'd been looking for all along.

A week passed in a blur, and Alpha Kael returned every night.

And every night, he sat in the same seat.

And every night, she danced like his eyes weren't stripping her bare.

But she felt him. Every time.

Until one evening, Madam Vexa called her into the back room.

"You're up for bid."

Nyra frowned. "What?"

"Private weekend for two nights. The offer came in this morning. One of the highest bids I've seen in months."

"No."

"Nyra. Listen–"

"I said no, Vexa. I don't do weekends."

Vexa sighed softly and simply held out the envelope.

"You might want to see who placed the bid."

Nyra hesitated before taking it. She opened it and saw what it was and whom it was from.

Alpha Kael Draven.

Her throat tightened.

"He bid for me?"

"Two nights," Vexa muttered quietly. "No strings. It's just keeping company."

"You honestly believe that?" She scoffed.

Vexa exhaled slowly. "I believe if you turn this down, he'll still come back. Again and again. Until you say yes."

Nyra looked down at the paper, she bit her lower lip hard.

Two fucking nights?!