Chapter 1

Remus

33 Years Later

It would be a busy night in the club, and revenue would be booming, legal and illegal. I sat waiting for my guest in the cordoned-off private area of the strip club. I’d been watching the three girls' performances and picked the one I needed for the night.

She looked nervous and wasn't as well-seasoned as the other two. She didn’t have the confidence her fellow dancers had. Her breasts were petite but pert, and her auburn hair was attractive. She looked emotionally fragile, breakable. This business was tricky, and I will be helping her adjust to her profession tonight. I needed the release tonight.

I picked up my glass with a sigh. I had a long night ahead of me. All my preparations had been made in advance because I tracked the moon obsessively. My earlier mistakes could have exposed me or, worse, gotten me killed. Now, I didn't leave anyone alive, unlike the werewolf that sliced me open. If I attacked anyone, I made sure I ate most of them or dismembered them completely. The limbs didn’t grow back.

The last thing I wanted was another werewolf roaming around in my country. Three decades later, I had mastered the art of shifting in and out of the beast’s form. The key was to harness the rage, embrace it then look past it.

The only time I could not do so was when there was a blood moon lunar eclipse. This was when the earth passed between the sun and the moon, which blocked the sun and caused the moon to appear red. The blood moon fell on the 31st of October, which was tonight. It was as if the curse was mocking me.

I’d read every folklore, myth and legend about werewolves from each continent and found they had little substance. The beast had infected me in Norway, but even the Viking myths were vague and fanciful. The only thing that overpowered my inner beast was the moon cycles.

I could never discuss my situation with any human. Considering I hadn't aged and had immense strength, agility and regenerative healing properties within me, I would be dissected and harvested in the name of science and progression. My current problem was that I didn't look 62 years old.

Through my business, I learnt to exploit the wealthy. I had become the wealthiest man in Britain, but since a large chunk of it was undeclared income under the taxation law, it was also illegal, so I was unofficially the wealthiest man in Britain.

My status allowed me every kind of excess there was, and since I was invincible, I had dabbled in almost everything from hard drugs to cannibalism. Human flesh was best eaten as a wolf because my tastebuds differed from my human form.

As the years passed, I became more apathetic towards humans. I gave into every desire I craved, and I couldn't blame it all on the curse because my bitter rage goaded me on. I would forever be tied to my curse and, with it, the moon.

My family was dead, most of them from natural causes. But a few extended family members I killed because I didn't want anyone to recognise me should my image be printed or found on the internet.

I returned to Norway several times to find the accursed werewolf during the full moon cycles, but I never found the beast that turned me. My need to find out more about this affliction before I ripped his guts out was my end goal. Only in the last few years had I calmed down and accepted what I was.

There was a delicate balance between my human and beast form. My skin was more penetrable in my human form, but my werewolf side was vulnerable to silver and dismemberment. The wolf protected my human side, and it knew if I died, he would die with me. It gave me a strong instinct against danger.

I glanced at the girls working their bodies against the poles. The years had taught me to lose my humanity and revel in what I was, and I was a fucking beast. I snapped my fingers and pointed to the girl. She paused before she came off the podium. Her heavy hips swayed as she walked towards me. A shapely ass made up for her lack of tits. She would do what I had in mind.

“Go wait for me in the backroom,” I said before I took another sip of my drink.

“Yes, Mr Hawkins,” she said but kept her eyes averted before nervously scarpering away.

My reputation in my wealth management company and underworld dealings was ruthless, but since I was on top of the food chain, I didn't care what they thought about me as long as they obeyed me.

Lord Crowther came through the doors, and his eyes went straight to the podium as he watched the women dance. This was the reason I had all of my shady meetings here. Men were weak and quickly distracted while I conducted business. He finally broke his gaze from the scantily clad women to notice me.

He was in his late forties, and if everything worked in my favour, I would relieve him of his family estate. He needed a quick sale because of his lack of financial management. As he reached the table, I raised my hand for a waiter.

“What would you like?” I asked as the waiter got to our table.

“Scotch, please,” he said as he eagerly sat down.

The waiter dipped his head down to me before he went to get our drinks.

Lord Crowther paused before pulling an envelope out of his suit pocket to watch the exchange with a shrewd look in his eyes.

“Your staff are quite respectful towards you,” he said with speculation lighting up in his eyes as he pulled a cream envelope out of his pocket. “The solicitor has notarised it.”

I took the envelope before I tore it open to read the contents. A fresh glass was set in front of me as I carefully inspected the document. I enjoyed a simple transaction with a gullible fool. When I glanced at Crowther, he was sipping his drink, but he watched the girls sway and gyrate over the poles.

“I have a special bonus for you,” I said as I folded and tucked the contract in my suit’s inside pocket.

His eyes snapped back towards me as I gave him an amiable smile. Within two meetings, I knew his type: a drinker, unfaithful and dishonest. Only his desperation made him heel to me.

“A bonus?” he asked with a hesitant smile before he put his empty glass on the table.

“Yes, a bonus. Follow me,” I said as I stood up to lead him into the back rooms.

The strip club was a necessary purchase I’d made 18 years ago. It was a high-end establishment, and my girls didn't need to pay me a commission to use my dance floor, which was an industry-standard in all other strip clubs. We had private rooms for members who could afford them if the girls wanted to make money on their backs. I had a particular room for myself and my certain business acquaintances.

I opened the door and let him walk in before I closed it behind us. The girl stood from the sofa, and I saw Lord Crowther’s eyes light up. For his age, he wasn't in bad shape, but my guess was his love of alcohol kept him trim. I sat on the armchair close to the sofa while the girl poured some drinks.

She was more relaxed with Crowther in the room. Over the years, the odd staff member had vanished, but I had that shit under control now. It was never a good thing to lash out at employees. The strip club and wealth management company were my most valued businesses.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” I asked only to put her at ease.

“Poppy, sir,” she said, handing me my drink before approaching Crowther.

“Poppy, why don't you give Lord Crowther a special lap dance?” I said as I watched him sit down with the glass in hand.

“Yes, sir.”

She did have a fine ass, and I glanced at my watch to see how much time I had. Crowther was locked in as he watched her naked body move across the room to put the music on.

She began a slow dance, but my eyes were on him. The longer she teased him, the more rigid his spine became. He glanced over at me as she began to rub her ass on his crotch. I nodded my head, and I saw the look of relief on his face as he reached around her body to grab her breasts. Poppy continued to grind and move over his body.

She turned around, and as she did, she grabbed a condom from the ceramic bowl on the table close to her. Crowther saw the bowl of condoms and grinned before he began to unfasten his trousers. I sat back and reached into my pocket for my pack of cigarettes.

It was rare to have someone cross me, but I made sure I had dirt on everyone. He would be ruined if I released any footage of this since he had a wife and kids. I watched Poppy peel her g-string off and climb onto his lap.

His head fell back as she mounted herself on his dick while I took a long drag of my cigarette. Her ass moved to the beat of the music, and Crowther had his face buried in her chest.

He groaned loudly and gripped her hips as she moved faster along with the tempo of the music. It took mere seconds for him to climax. When she climbed off, his face was flushed, and his eyes had a wild look to them. He would be back to my club as a regular.

“Take the condom off and swallow my cum, whore,” he said with a nasty look on his face.

His words didn’t surprise me because I’d seen and heard it all. The more privileged someone was, the darker their tastes were, and I’d catered for many influential people.

Poppy nodded, and I watched as she pulled herself off him. His cock was still semi-erect. It wasn't as impressive as mine, and he certainly didn't get Poppy off. I stubbed my cigarette out as I watched Poppy swallow the content of the condom. I couldn't deny that I loved to humiliate people, men and women.

“Crawl over to me and get my load down you,” I said lazily as I unzipped my trousers.

She crawled over towards me. There was only lust in her pretty eyes as she looked at my hard dick.

“Since you didn’t get her off David. Why don’t you finger Poppy while she sucks me off?” I said to Crowther without taking my eyes off Poppy.

Her red lips opened up to swallow my dick, and I gripped her hair to tilt her head.

I didn’t have time to fuck her ass before I left for my safe house, but making her choke on my dick was enough for me .