4. Nik

Pulsing lights and pounding bass engulf the crowded nightclub, the music’s beat thundering in my chest like a second heartbeat. It’s the same lurid scene everywhere I go, yet somehow I’m drawn to these places. I don’t dance, don’t drink—merely hover at the fringes, an observer. But something about being immersed in the writhing crowd makes me feel alive.

Perhaps it’s witnessing others revel in reckless abandon, or make fools of themselves as inhibitions slip away. Whatever the allure, for a few anonymous hours I can forget my troubles and indulge the illusion of belonging. In the crowd, I don’t feel so fucking alone.

I push through the sweaty horde, finally reaching the bar. An opening appears and I quickly claim it, resting an elbow on the slick lacquered counter. “Une bière sans alcool,” I call over the music, asking for a non-alcoholic beer. The bartenders here usually have something on hand for guys like me.

“Tourtel?” the bartender shouts back, holding up a green bottle.

I nod in agreement and he sends the chilled beer sliding my way. As I lift it to my lips, a guy next to me throws his weight back suddenly, his meaty elbow digging into my ribs. I jerk from the impact, frothy beer splashing down my shirt.

“Fuck!” I growl, flashing pain radiating through my side. Instant rage burns through me like brushfire. I cut my eyes at the hulking stranger, but he doesn’t even acknowledge the collision. The urge to pummel his oblivious face courses hotly through my veins.

Deep breath, Nik. No need to start a fight. You didn’t come here for that. Just try to relax.

I turn back to the bar and grab a napkin to dab ineffectually at the wet spot on my shirt. As I lift my beer for another attempt, a woman’s voice rises insistently behind me.

“I said no. How many times do I have to repeat it?”

The same guy rumbles back, “C’mon, I bought you that drink. Least you could do is thank me.”

I quirk an eyebrow at his entitled tone but keep my focus forward. None of my business. I’m content to stand here nursing my drink in peace.

Then another elbow jams painfully into my ribs, harder than the first time. I huff out a strained breath, steadying myself on the bar. Molten rage bubbles up inside me.

That’s fucking it.

I set my bottle down with a thunk and spin to face the jerk, grabbing his shoulder to yank him around. “Listen here, motherfu—”

The rest dies in my throat as glass shatters loudly next to me. I glance over to see the woman wielding the broken base of her bottle, eyes blazing at the man.

“I said NO,” she roars fiercely. “Now leave me the hell alone!”

She rears back, jagged bottle aimed right at his stunned face. Shit. She’s not just threatening—she fully intends to maim.

“Whoa!” I dart out and seize her slender wrist before she can follow through. Wide brown eyes turn their fury on me instead as I pry away her makeshift weapon.

An unexpected thrill races through me under her piercing gaze. Heat prickles over my skin that has nothing to do with anger.

I’m stunned by the feeling, unable to tear my gaze away from her. Who the hell is she?

“Stay out of this, Thor!” the guy blusters, grabbing my shoulder.

Big mistake.As his fingers dig into my flesh, blind rage whites out my vision. I swing around and channel all my frustration into one devastating punch straight to his jaw.

The guy drops like a bag of rocks.

I stand over his inert form, panting, the urge to keep hitting surging hotly through me. But I force down the haze of violence and take a step back. When I finally look up, the mystery woman has vanished.

The crowd continues gyrating and drinking around the man’s crumpled body, disregardful. I snag my beer from the bar and walk away, shaking off the last clingy tendrils of adrenaline.

“Some fucking welcome,” I mutter under my breath, carving a path through the sea of writhing limbs. My skin still feels flushed and prickly from the near fight. Splashing cool water on my face might help settle me down.

I find a hallway in the back, leading to the restrooms. Mercifully quieter here. I push the door open, and there she is—the fierce dark-eyed beauty from the bar.

We stare at each other in the mirror, the energy between us suddenly crackling and electric. I drag my gaze over her alluring figure as she leans against the sink. The earlier heat flares back to life inside me, simmering with raw desire now rather than rage.

She casually reapplies a coat of ruby lipstick, eyes never leaving my reflection. “You followed me,” she says, sounding intrigued rather than upset. It’s not a question. Confidence and superiority radiate from her very being. And who can blame her? The woman is a goddess walking among mortals. She expected this outcome all along.

“No.” The word growls out of me, my body tense and unrelenting in the doorway. I stare at her, consumed by an overwhelming desire that courses through my veins like a drug. She’s a force to be reckoned with, a powerful magnet drawing me closer with every passing second... I’ve never felt this way before, not like this.

What’s wrong with me?

Does she feel it too?

She tosses back her glistening mane of chestnut hair. Her siren eyes find mine again, considering me for a long moment. Something unspoken passes between us—recognition? Curiosity? Impossible to define, but undeniably powerful. No matter how much she tries to display an unbreakable confidence, she’s flustered, rattled by my presence. I can sense it. And I bet she feels the intense electricity between us as well.

I watch as the stunning woman pulls down the hem of her tight black miniskirt, confidently striding towards me. “I’m finished here,” she declares when she reaches me, her gaze already flickering towards the door. But I can’t let her leave just yet. There’s something off about this situation and I need to figure it out before she disappears. So I quickly shut the door behind me, keeping her trapped in my presence for just a little while longer.

Lazily, she lifts her chin and her stare glides up to meet mine. There it is again. That bright intensity shimmering in her dark brown eyes… What is it exactly? What does it mean? I feel like I should know, but somehow this mystery eludes me.

I don’t want to frighten her. But then, she’s anything but scared. The goddess is fearless. She’s proven it only a moment ago. This is a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind, and yet, she does not protest as I invade her personal space an inch further.

Her lips part, eyes flickering with what might be anticipation. Or trepidation. Slowly, I step nearer until mere inches separate us. Her perfume, rich and spicy, fills my senses. I should say something, but words fail me. Primal instinct has taken over.

In answer to the unspoken question hanging between us, she steps closer, her body barely brushing against mine. With deliberate slowness, her hand slips between my arm and torso, reaching past me to the door. Her fingers find the lock, and with a resounding click, she turns it, sealing us inside.

My heart slams against my ribs, the blood roaring in my ears as the tension between us reaches a fever pitch. Our gazes meet, her eyes fathomless pools of darkness that draw me in, promising pleasure and passion and everything I’ve ever wanted.

No more words are needed. We both understand.

She wants me. And gods, do I want her.