Midnight Secrets with the Alpha Billionaire

Lena's POV

The chilled night air bit at my skin as I hurried down the deserted street, the distant sound of rustling leaves whispering a warning I didn't want to hear.

My heels clicked against the pavement, each step echoing like a countdown to something I couldn't quite name.

"Stop being paranoid," I muttered to myself, clutching my coat tighter around me. But my instincts screamed otherwise.

The shadows moved.

"Ethan?" I called, hoping against all odds. Silence answered me.

Then came the growl—a low, guttural sound that rippled through the air and froze the blood in my veins.

I spun around, my breath hitching. A pair of glowing amber eyes locked onto mine from the alley ahead. My chest tightened. Wolves? Here?

"No," I whispered, shaking my head as if denying it would make them disappear.

More pairs of eyes emerged from the darkness, their growls harmonizing into a menacing symphony. My mind raced. Fight or flight? Flight. Definitely flight.

I turned and ran, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The wolves' snarls grew louder, their claws scraping against the pavement as they closed the distance.

Then, out of nowhere, a black blur streaked across my path.

"What the—?" I stumbled, barely regaining my footing.

The blur solidified into Damien. His sharp suit was gone, replaced by something raw and untamed. His eyes glowed an eerie silver, and his presence radiated danger.

"Lena, get behind me," he ordered, his voice a guttural snarl.

"Damien?" My voice cracked, caught between relief and terror.

"I said, behind me!"

The command in his tone left no room for argument. I scrambled behind him, clutching his arm like a lifeline.

The wolves lunged.

Damien's body convulsed, a guttural roar tearing from his throat. Before my eyes, his form shifted, muscles contorting, bones snapping with grotesque precision. His tailored exterior gave way to something feral and primal.

He wasn't a man anymore. He was a massive black wolf, larger than any animal I'd ever seen, his fur shimmering under the dim streetlights.

"Holy shit," I whispered, backing against the wall.

Damien met the pack head-on, his jaws snapping with terrifying precision. The smaller wolves yelped and darted back, but one—a scarred brute with crimson eyes—lunged again. Damien caught it mid-air, his massive jaws clamping down on its throat.

The fight was brutal, a blur of fangs and claws. Damien was relentless, a dark shadow tearing through his enemies with deadly efficiency.

One by one, the wolves retreated, their growls fading into the night. Only the scarred wolf lingered, blood dripping from its flank. It growled low, a challenge in its tone, before finally slinking away.

Damien stood tall, his black fur matted with blood, his silver eyes scanning the darkness for any lingering threats. Satisfied, he turned to me, his form shifting back into that of a man.

He stood naked in the moonlight, his chest heaving, his eyes still glowing faintly.

I swallowed hard, averting my gaze. "You could've warned me."

"About what?" His voice was rough, laced with irritation. "That you were about to get yourself killed?"

I glared at him. "That you're a freaking werewolf!"

Damien's lips twitched into something resembling a smirk. "Would you have believed me?"

My silence was answer enough.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come on. We need to get out of here before they come back."

I crossed my arms, planting my feet. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on."

"You don't have time for answers, Lena." His tone softened, a rare vulnerability creeping into his eyes. "But I promise you, I'll explain everything—just not here."

Before I could argue, my knees buckled. The adrenaline ebbed, leaving behind a throbbing pain in my side. I looked down, realizing for the first time that a deep gash marred my skin.

"Lena!" Damien was at my side in an instant, his hands steadying me.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, though the world tilted precariously.

"No, you're not." His voice was firm, unyielding. "You're coming with me."

I wanted to protest, to demand answers, but the darkness was already closing in. The last thing I saw was Damien's worried expression as he scooped me into his arms.

When I woke, it wasn't to the familiar confines of my apartment but to an opulent room bathed in soft golden light. The bed I lay on was absurdly comfortable, the sheets crisp and cool against my skin.

Disoriented, I sat up, wincing as the movement sent a sharp pain through my side.

"You're awake."

The voice came from the corner of the room. I turned to see a man—tall, broad-shouldered, and with an air of authority that made my breath catch.

It wasn't Damien.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice hoarse.

The man stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes studying me with an unsettling intensity. "My name is Hayden. I'm part of Damien's pack."

"Pack," I repeated, the word foreign on my tongue.

"Yes, pack," he said, as if explaining to a child. "You're safe here, for now."

"For now?"

Before Hayden could answer, the door opened, and Damien strode in. Dressed in a dark shirt and slacks, he looked every bit the enigmatic billionaire, but his eyes betrayed a weariness I hadn't seen before.

"Lena," he said, his voice soft.

I glared at him. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

Damien sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But first, you need to rest. That attack wasn't random."

"I gathered that," I snapped. "Why were they after me?"

Damien hesitated, glancing at Hayden. Whatever passed between them was silent but tense.

"They weren't after you," Damien finally said. "They were sending a message. To me."

I frowned, confusion mingling with anger. "What does that have to do with my brother?"

His jaw tightened. "Everything."

"Damien—"

"Enough," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "You're injured. Rest now. We'll talk later."

He turned to leave, but I wasn't done. "Wait."

He paused, his back to me.

"Why did I hear you and Hayden talking about my 'true nature'?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Damien stiffened, but he didn't turn around. "Because," he said quietly, "you're not who you think you are."

With that, he walked out, leaving me alone with more questions than ever.