SOREN

Being on this course with Skye was testing all my values. The knowledge that he was just in the next room, the awareness that we could be together if I wanted, if I allowed myself to be an even more evil bitch than I already was… It was overwhelming.

I hated cheating. I thought it was the worst thing that could happen between two people in a relationship. I never cheated on Anton, and he never cheated on me. Even when he met his High Mate, he broke up with me first before going on a date with the guy. Why should I behave any differently? I'd let Skye kiss me; that was already too much.

Now these thoughts wouldn't stop coming. I had to restrain myself from getting up and knocking on his door. How the hell was I supposed to last five days of such close contact with him, sitting elbow to elbow every lesson, sharing meals, chatting…

I heard my phone ping — another message from Liam? I glanced at the screen and typed a brief reply: "Everything went okay. Nothing interesting happened."

He didn't seem 100% convinced, but I didn't have the energy to talk to him, nor the desire to prove anything.

I struggled to fall asleep, tossing and turning, a constant hard-on making it almost impossible. I was empty inside, wanting to be filled, a longing that only intensified.

The next two days weren't any easier. I spent time with Skye from morning until evening. It took an immense amount of willpower not to invite him to my room on another night.

There was a terrible conflict within me—loyalty to Liam and the promise I'd given him, versus the almost overwhelming desire to be close to Skye.

Those dilemmas seemed to fill my entire day. When I sat next to him during the lecture, our elbows sometimes brushed, giving me goosebumps. I tried hard to control myself and not glance at him too often, but it wasn't easy because he was always looking at me. I could see his hungry eyes traveling over my neck, shoulders, and back while he sat next to me. He didn't make any moves that would have upset Liam, but his desire was unmistakable. Sometimes, I noticed how dilated his pupils were. When we rode the hotel elevator together with a group of people, Skye and I had to squeeze into a corner, and our bodies pressed against each other. I heard his quickened breathing; his eyes were almost devouring me. My heart started racing, and I was sure he could hear it—maybe even everyone else in the elevator could. One of the omegas riding with us glanced at us, amused.

It went on and on—a never-ending temptation, a feeling of discomfort in my pants, sometimes I had the impression that my erection was permanent.

How much longer could I take this? Finally, the third day came, and one of the other guys from DevApp, who was also a participant here, told us that some of the course attendees would be partying that night in the hotel club. Other D-Project employees were supposed to come too, so it sounded like it would be a substantial event.

I felt so frustrated by the constant sexual tension that I said to Skye, "Maybe we should go. It'd be good to dance. We're just stuck in these lectures all the time. I feel so stiff…" I muttered, hoping it didn't sound like I was talking about my dick—though that was true too.

"Sure," he agreed immediately. "I feel very stiff too. All the time. All the fucking time."

His eyes, as always, seemed glued to my face. Honestly, I don't think anyone had ever stared at me as intensely as Skye had, in my entire life.

Maybe for that reason, every morning before meeting with him, I was paying extra attention to my daily grooming—making sure to take long showers, brush and style my hair, change my rings and earrings, just to make it interesting. I even switched up my nail polish from black to silver, to graphite, to navy-starry-blue, because he kept noticing these small changes and every time complimented them. It was a nice little thing we had. There was even this funny ritual we started, where every day, soon after the first lesson, he would gently take one of my hands and skim his fingertips over my nails, muttering some sweet words like, "This glitter looks like little galaxies swirling on your fingernails…" Or he'd brush my rings and spin them a bit, checking if I was wearing a new one, saying stuff like, "This ring has a striped flint stone—I like those, so rare…"

During these cute incidents, he held both of my hands, and I allowed it. My dick would get hard, of course, and my breath would quicken, but I indulged in these moments on so many other levels, allowing myself to enjoy the almost innocent interactions guilt-free. There were even a few instances when I allowed him to raise my hands to his lips and place a kiss on the back of my palm. He did it so lovingly and respectfully at the same time, I just could not deny him that.

That third day at the hotel, I went back to my room to get ready for the night at the club. I pulled out an outfit from my suitcase, and I didn't even know why I'd brought it—it was really provocative. It was a mesh shirt that, if you looked closely, you could see my nipples through. It had a deep neckline that plunged to my chest, and an even deeper one on the back. I paired it with black leggings that had thin silver embroidery along the sides of the thighs, clinging tightly to my legs, crotch and butt, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

I put on some makeup—lined my eyes with thick black eyeliner, added some silver eyeshadow, and painted my lips a deep, vibrant pink. I also sprinkled a bit of silver glitter on my cheeks and hair.

Even I, someone usually pretty critical of my own appearance, had to admit—I looked hot.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. I needed a drink tonight. I wasn't a big fan of alcohol, even though I'd overused it after Anton dumped me. I had removed it from my life completely, but this was one of those days when I really wanted to forget all this tension—to dissolve it somehow. And that's exactly what I planned to do.

I got a text from Skye that he was waiting in the hallway.

A shiver of excitement ran through me. In just a moment, he'd be looking at me with those hungry eyes of his, taking in my provocatively dressed body.

I opened the door and saw Skye waiting for me in jeans and a black T-shirt. Just as I expected, his eyes were piercing me like harpoons. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, swallowed, and then closed it again. After a moment, he managed to stutter out, "You look really—"

"Slutty?"

"No! Beautiful, sexy."

"Seriously, you could come up with some new compliments. All you ever say is that I'm beautiful. It's becoming boring."

"Sorry I'm boring you. What do you want me to say?"

"Something more creative, maybe?" I teased with a playful tone.

What had gotten into me? Why was I provoking him like this?

Skye took up the challenge, looked at me, and said, "You really want me to keep complimenting you? I could go on all day. How perfect, how talented, how sexy and seductive you are without even trying. And I could also tell you how much I want you. Walking around with a painful boner all these days is killing me. I could also tell you how much I adore you. I could even tell you how badly I want to steal you away from Liam… But I just don't know how to do it without pissing you off in the process."

Was I expecting that whole rant about the impossibility of us? Nope. So, I didn't respond. What was I supposed to say? Get mad? Promise him something—or promise him nothing at all? This was crazy. I had a feeling this night was going to end in tragedy—I just knew it.

Without a word, I headed toward the elevator, and he followed. There was no one else in it—just the two of us and the mirror.

"You're really making things hard for me, Soren, dressing like that," he muttered. "Pun intended."

"Well," I said, tapping my forehead with my fingers, "Everything's in here. It's all about control at the level of the mind."

"Right. Apparently, any torture can be endured with the right mindset," he mumbled.

"Is looking at me torture for you?"

"Not looking. It's that I can't do anything more than just look."

I allowed myself a small smirk under my breath. Why the hell was I acting like this? Why was I inflaming this whole thing? This wasn't fair—to Skye or to Liam. I was just setting myself up for even more trouble.

So, I went quiet, promising myself not to say anything that would complicate things more.

We reached the first floor and then walked down the stairs to level -1. Skye was following behind me, and I knew exactly what he was staring at. I let my hips sway a little as I strode forward. God, why couldn't I just stop?

We already heard the music from a distance, and I felt my blood pumping faster. I picked up the pace. The room was dark, but strobe lights were flashing everywhere.

There was a decent-sized crowd already swaying to the music—a lot of couples, but also plenty of people dancing alone.

"Finally," I muttered, turning toward Skye. Of course, he was staring at me.

"I'm going to dance alone for a bit. I need to loosen up."

"Sure, whatever you want, Soren. I'll grab us some drinks," Skye replied, heading toward the bar while I moved to the center of the floor. The song playing was one of my favorites, and I started dancing, slowly finding my rhythm. The music wrapped around me, and I closed my eyes. The beat picked up, and I moved with it, letting myself go, trying to release all the tension in my body.

But the way it was coming out wasn't exactly what I'd hoped. My movements, without even meaning to, were filled with sensuality. I danced mostly with my hips, running my hands over my body like I was imagining they were Skye's hands on my skin. I must have looked like I was dancing in a strip club, not just at some hotel disco.

I caught a few glances from the guys dancing nearby, especially alphas and betas, but I must have had a major bitch face because no one dared to approach me.

Tuning out my surroundings, I danced through three songs before realizing I was thirsty. I scanned the room and found Skye leaning against the wall, holding two glasses—one he was sipping from, and the other, I assumed, was waiting for me.

I swaggered over to him, my hips swaying, a strange grin spreading across my face.

"For me?"

"Sure."

I took the drink and sipped it, looking at him over the rim of the glass. His face showed a totally different expression from mine.

Torment.

Skye wasn't enjoying this night out as much as I was. His eyes were sad, and his jaw was clenched tight. But there was nothing I could do to help him with his misery. Not yet, anyway.

I downed the drink, which tasted like some vodka and juice mix, and said to Skye in a pretty cheeky tone, "Be my waiter tonight. Keep the drinks coming."

In the flickering light, his eyes looked almost black and… sorrowful. I felt stupid, but really, what could I do? This was an impossible situation, and I still didn't believe we could ever work out. Maybe for a while, but eventually, it would all go wrong.

Liam was my anchor, my only hope for a stable life without drama (and without passion). Gosh, how I hated this dilemma.

"Of course, I'll get you drinks," Skye replied. "As many as you want."

His voice sounded hollow, like he'd shut off all his emotions.

For a moment, I froze and stared at him. The lights were dancing on his chiseled face, his eyelashes casting shadows that kept shifting. But in his eyes? Still the same, persisting emotion—suffering.

"I know them all by heart, you know," he breathed out.

"What?"

"All your emails, Soren. I memorized them. Every single one."

There was this moment of silence, right in the middle of the club. It was like a bubble of stillness surrounded us.

He had to have read them a lot…

It was sweet in a way. I so clearly remembered those days filled with hurt, when there was no answer to my confessions, my inbox staying empty. But Skye… now he healed it all with this one statement. My heart mended along with his words, becoming whole again. Some warmth spread through my body, and I raised my hand and put it on his heart, almost as if I wanted him to share the healing power.

Then I whispered, my voice cracking, "Day four."

And Skye quoted, "Day four since I told you to leave. Skye, I feel like I'm dying. I can't breathe, and I hate the emptiness you left me in. I have this T-shirt of yours that I found in your dorm room. When Liam isn't around, I smell it to remember your closeness. I don't understand why you don't respond. You loved me—you told me so—and I believed you, damn you! You made me believe, and now I'm so lost without you. Please, please forgive me. What I did was the biggest mistake of my life, and I'll say it over and over. Please, give me a chance…"

I bit my lip so hard I nearly drew blood, my breath shaky.

"Day 28."

"Day 28 since I told you to leave. I hate my life, Skye. I sit in these company meetings, surrounded by people, and they're like empty, two-dimensional cutouts. Irrelevant. I felt the same way after Anton left. You were the one who pulled me out of that flat, gray existence, into something vibrant and exciting. You fleshed me out. In your arms, I mattered. Nothing was scary. I want to feel that again. I can only exist with you around…"

"Day 40."

"There's no email for day 40. It ends at 39."

"There is. A draft… I never sent it."

It was strange, I was whispering, yet he heard me all right.

"Let me see it, Soren."

Feeling like I was in a dream, I handed him my phone. Skye opened the mail and read the draft aloud.

"Day 40 since I told you to leave. Today I made a decision. I'm coming to find you. I'll break down and ask Alvin for your address as I know he has it. I can't—"

He looked up at me. "Why didn't you?"

"I tried. I messaged Alvin, only to find out he'd blocked me. And that same night, I got food poisoning. Liam was there, helping me… I was weak, lying in bed, feeling like I was going to throw up my guts, but he took care of me." I cursed under my breath. "I gave up that day. I decided to give him a chance, and the next day I did. The draft email stayed in… drafts."

Skye, still holding his drink, looked down at it, then quickly knocked it back. When he glanced at me again, I saw the tears on his cheeks.

"Maybe I'll never win you back. But I'll never stop trying," he choked out, his voice breaking, then suddenly turned and walked away.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I went back to the dance floor, swaying like I was drunk, cursing myself for what my life had become. The feeling of entrapment returned with such force, like I was being hit by a waterfall, making me wobbly and unsteady. My eyes foolishly roamed over people, searching for him—the only star in my cloudy sky. The second I saw him coming back, I rushed over and practically snatched both glasses from his hands.

Something clicked in my mind—a small window opened. A chance for us to have what was forbidden.

Skye looked surprised as I downed the first glass in one gulp.

If only he knew, if only he understood… I was doing this to make it easier for him, to numb myself, to stop feeling this horrible ethical conflict. Just to turn myself into pure feeling, leaving behind reason and… my morality.

It was the only thing I could offer him: my fall.

So, I drank the second glass just as fast.

"More, more," I whimpered, burping. Skye took the empty glasses and headed back to the bar. He downed his own drink on the way, probably trying to forget too.

I stumbled back onto the dance floor, hoping the alcohol would kick in faster, and it was doing its job.

Dazed, I started moving to the beat, swimming in the music waves, even jumping and making weird, drunken noises… and suddenly, I felt someone's hands wrap around my waist. I shoved the person away instantly and was shocked to see two alphas standing behind me.

I froze, recognizing them.

One was Alvin, and the other was Don!

Fuck.

Sure, I knew they both worked at D-Project, but I hadn't seen them during the course, and somehow, I'd just blocked out their existence from my mind.

"Hey, babe, you look absolutely stunning! Nice moves. You here alone?" Don sneered in that awful tone of his—half sweet, but with a nasty, lecherous edge.

"Hey, Soren. How's it going? You at this programming training D-Project is having?" Alvin asked. Only then did I notice they were holding hands.

"Together at last?" I muttered. It slipped out before I could stop myself, even though I didn't fucking care. Did Alvin really have no better options?

"Yeah, we are. You think the world ends with betas?" Don snickered.

"I've never heard anything dumber, especially since no beta was ever a real option for you," I shot back.

"If you want to make a smart comeback, you'll have to try a little harder," Don sneered.

"With you, it would be pointless to try. It'd go right over your head."

Don made a disdainful huff. "Just so you know, Sean was all over me the whole time we were at college."

"Yeah, and he was also all over a lot of other guys, beyond the Kingdom of Promises. The guy hustled outside the campus, right under your nose, so you're not that special, babe."

Hearing this, Alvin's face twisted into a grimace; he probably didn't like being reminded of that. For so long, he had this little naive idea that we were a closed group. He looked around, maybe scanning for Skye or whoever else he thought I might have come here with.

But Don narrowed his eyes and glared at me with pure hatred. "Always so mouthy and arrogant! But have you settled things with Skye yet? Or is he still begging you for a piece of your not-that-special ass, which I've already explored in depth?"

Alvin glanced at him with an amused expression.

"Seems like it. Skye's social media's gone quiet, and he's usually one to show off his boyfriends on Insta. The loser's probably still brokenhearted, sobbing in a corner."

They both laughed, and I gritted my teeth.

Don continued, "Just think, all it would take is a little mini-heat from Soren, and Skye would get what he wanted. Though I really don't see what all the fuss is about; you're pretty boring in bed." He chuckled.

A wave of anger and humiliation washed over me. I wanted to say something, but for some reason, nothing would come out. For the first time, I didn't have any snarky comments ready at the tip of my tongue; all I felt was… pain.

Don turned to Alvin and said, "By the way, that was a hilarious fuck. One minute it was ‘no, no, no, Don, don't do it!' and the next, when I shoved it in, he was begging for more, ‘harder, harder, harder!'"

"Maybe it's because you're so small, I couldn't feel a thing!" I finally pushed out, but I felt a dreadful wave of helplessness, just like the day he rammed his dick into me while I begged him not to. The memory was suffocating, choking my throat, making me shiver.

"Or maybe you're just as loose as an old whore."

They both laughed again, but Don's laughter was abruptly cut off…

Skye's fist smashed into his jaw, sending him crashing to the ground in an instant. People around us stepped back in surprise, and Skye jumped on Don, raining punches down on him with a rage I'd never seen before. I didn't think he was even capable of it. It always amazed me that alphas have this whole other side to them, not available to betas—a primal rage and power unmatched by other subgenders. Skye's growl was like that of a wild carnivore, his vocal cords making sounds similar to a lion's—low, deep, vibrating.

But Alvin wasn't about to let that happen. He jumped on Skye's back and tried to pull him off Don, though unsuccessfully. However, the fight didn't last long; some security guards immediately intervened, grabbing the struggling trio and dragging them out of the club.

One of the guards growled, "Take your drama outside. We don't need any trouble here!"

Blood was pouring from Don's nose and mouth, and he could barely stand. Without Alvin holding him up, he probably would've collapsed.

"That bastard raped Soren and has the nerve to laugh about it! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch, you filthy scum…" Skye shouted, his fists stained with blood, his face red with fury. His pupils were reddened too, like he was about to snap into full-on fighting mode.

"This isn't the place for this. Get out, and handle your business somewhere else. We don't need this mess here," one of the bouncers stated.

They shoved them down the corridor toward the hotel lobby before finally turning back.

I followed behind them in a daze. Don said nothing, disoriented and still bleeding. Alvin seemed furious, but I wasn't sure if he was mad at Skye or also at Don.

"Stay away from us. I won't be responsible for what happens if I see that bastard again. And you, you piece of shit, deserve your own beating!" Skye suddenly turned on Alvin, shoving him hard against the wall, his head bumping loudly on the marble tiles. "For putting on that spam filter! You're a real filthy scum to pull shit like that!" Skye growled through clenched teeth.

On a strange impulse, I stepped up beside him and slipped my hand into his. I saw him flinch, and he looked at me with his now red eyes, his face softening immediately from anger to something gentle and warm. And I felt… something tighten in my chest.

And I also felt his love, brimming inside him, directed toward me, like a fresh wave of air.

Alvin seemed shocked that Skye had shoved him like this.

"It was for your own good, you jerk! That guy's toxic as hell! He was playing you all!"

"Maybe he wouldn't be if your current boyfriend hadn't raped him!" Skye tried to lunge at them again, but I pulled him back. He could easily have jerked out of my grip, of course, but I somehow knew that he was almost physically incapable of doing anything brutal or violent when it came to me. On some level, I knew that I could hold him with just one finger, and he would not move. The tenderness he had toward me overpowered his aggression toward them. It was kinda… exhilarating.

"You're stupid for falling for him," Alvin muttered, spitting on the ground.

"Oh? And I should take dating advice from someone with impeccable taste, who's dating a rapist!"

"Jeez, you're exaggerating—"

"No!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, feeling my body tighten up. "I begged him, Alvin! Don't you understand? I begged him not to do it! I pleaded and pleaded, and he didn't listen! He raped me and choked me and just didn't stop! In no scenario is this okay! You can do better than dating this fucking predator!"

Alvin froze, his gaze locking on me, then he blinked and swallowed. It was the first time it seemed to register with him. His gaze flickered to Don with uncertainty.

"Remember when you came to me, to test me? I said no and you walked away. You respected that I didn't want it. But he didn't stop, he didn't react to my pleading, Alvin!"

Now Alvin looked a bit jittery. He let out a huff and said, "I'm… I'm sorry that it happened to you," he muttered. "He did the wrong thing."

"Are you serious?" Don growled, wiping blood from his mouth. "You're siding with them?!"

"You shouldn't have forced yourself on him, Don," Alvin said firmly. "And don't downplay it. What you did was a heat rape. There's no way around it."

"Who cares?! He's just a whore!" Don shouted, but Skye managed to hit him with his fist again, despite me holding him back. This time, Don fell to the floor and went still, losing consciousness. A trickle of blood came from his mouth. Alvin looked at the scene but didn't kneel beside Don; he just stood there with his eyes wide open and didn't even stop Skye when he kicked Don in the crotch, growling like a beast, his eyes glowing red.

But I didn't want it to end with his arrest, because some people in the hotel lobby were already approaching us, ready to intervene.

"Not worth it!" I shouted, pulling him toward the stairs.

To be honest, I was a whore, or rather I knew I would be after what I had planned for today. Maybe it was pointless to fight with words that had meaning after all.

And I didn't want to see these two any longer.

So, as soon as we reached the stairs, I did what I'd wanted to do for a while. My emotions were boiling over, raging. There was no turning back. I pushed Skye against the wall, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him hard, like I wanted to bite his lips off. I felt an enormous sense of relief, finally pressing my body against his. I wanted just one thing. The alcohol had helped me shed the last of my morals, muffled my conscience, muted my decency… and I knew this was going to happen tonight; I knew it was inevitable anyway. Fate wanted it this way. And I was already a treacherous bitch, regardless of anything. I just accepted it.