Alpha's STOLEN Mate Chapter 96

Elowen

The hostess led us through dimly lit corridors to a private room—all plush velvet and mood lighting that screamed expensive discretion. She set a leather-bound menu on the glass table with a practiced smile.

"Please review our... selections, miss."

*Selections?* I thought, confused until I opened the menu.

*Oh. OH.*

It wasn't a food menu. It was a catalog of men, complete with professional headshots and detailed descriptions. "Classic Dark-Haired Gentleman." "Golden Boy Next Door." "Mysterious Blue-Haired Artist." "Brooding Intellectual Type." "Sunshine Athlete." "Silver Fox Sophisticate." "Sweet Baby Boy."

This wasn't a strip club. This was a fucking *buffet*.

Evelyn leaned over my shoulder, and I swear I saw her actually start drooling. Her finger stabbed at the pages rapid-fire. "This one—Number Three. Definitely Five. Oh, Six looks fun! And Nine—yes, Nine too!"

I stared at her, rubbing my forehead. "Evelyn, *four* guys? Seriously? You think you can handle that many?"

"Why the hell not?" She grinned wickedly.

"Wait—wasn't this whole trip supposed to be about cheering *me* up? What happened to that?" I gestured at her growing list. "Since when do *you* need therapy??"

Evelyn laughed, utterly shameless. "God knows when you'll bring me out here again! I've been busting my ass for half a year—managing pack security, dealing with your emotional meltdowns. A few hot guys giving me proper attention? That's not too much to ask!"

I touched my wallet, already feeling the damage. "Evelyn—"

But she was already heading for the door, calling back over her shoulder. "I'll take the room across the hall! Send them over when they arrive!" She paused at the threshold, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, and make sure to include the whips and props! Thanks!"

The hostess looked delighted by Evelyn's enthusiasm. "Right away, miss! Your friend certainly knows what she wants!"

"That's one way to put it," I muttered as Evelyn disappeared.

The hostess turned her attention to me, all professional courtesy. "And what about you, miss? Your friend has excellent taste—adventurous and confident! What appeals to you?"

I was about to say something diplomatic when my eyes landed on one particular photo near the back of the menu.

*Him.*

The guy from the street. The impossible combination of Frost's refined features and warm eyes with Kaius's commanding presence and powerful build. Even in the professional photo, he radiated that same magnetic pull.

I found myself staring, unable to look away. *What would it be like... if someone like him...*

The hostess noticed immediately. "Ah! Excellent choice, miss. That's Damien—our absolute top talent." She checked her watch. "His shift starts in about ten minutes. I can have him sent up right away." Her smile turned knowing. "He's very popular, but for the right price, I can guarantee he's yours for the entire evening."

*Just say no. This is insane. Go back to the pack and deal with your problems like an adult.*

But then I thought about Kaius—his body tangled with Rowan's, that endless night of torture through the mate bond. Him choosing power and political alliances over everything we'd built together.

*Fuck him. Fuck all of it.*

I straightened in my seat, crossing my legs with deliberate confidence I didn't quite feel. My credit card hit the table with a satisfying snap.

"I want him. All night. And your best champagne."

The hostess's smile widened. "Now that's what I like to hear! Make yourself comfortable, miss. He'll be here shortly."

She swept out with my card, leaving me alone with my rapidly beating heart and questionable life choices.

Almost immediately, sounds started filtering through the walls from Evelyn's room. Male voices—multiple male voices—groaning and gasping. Then the unmistakable *crack* of leather on skin.

*Crack! Crack! Crack!*

Followed by more groaning, this time with a distinctly pained edge.

I shook my head in disbelief. *She's actually dominating four men at once. What the fuck.* No wonder she couldn't find a mate in wolf society—what male wolf would willingly submit like that?

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

The door opened, and suddenly all the air left the room.

*Damien.*

He was somehow even more devastating in person. Tall—easily Kaius's height—with shoulders that could carry the world and a narrow waist that made you want to wrap your legs around it. His dark hair fell perfectly across his forehead, and those eyes—God, those eyes were Frost's gentle warmth combined with something darker, more dangerous.

He carried a bottle of champagne and two glasses with practiced ease, his smile making my stomach do complicated gymnastics.

"Well," he said, his voice a smooth baritone that went straight to my core. "Fate has a sense of humor, doesn't it? We meet again."

He sat beside me on the velvet sofa—not inappropriately close, but close enough that his presence felt overwhelming. His cologne was subtle, expensive, masculine in a way that made my wolf perk up with interest.

"I'm Damien." He poured champagne with elegant efficiency. "And you are, without question, the most beautiful woman I've seen in months."

The line was so obviously rehearsed it should have made me laugh. But the way he said it—the earnest warmth in his tone, the way his eyes held mine with Frost's sincerity—made it feel true.

*Dangerous. This is so dangerous.*

I accepted the glass and downed it in one go, needing the liquid courage.

Damien refilled it without comment, his body language open and relaxed. He maintained perfect professional distance—no wandering hands, no aggressive moves—which somehow made him even more appealing.

Several glasses later, the champagne had done its work. The world felt softer, warmer, more manageable.

Damien leaned closer, his face inches from mine. His size made me feel small, delicate, protected—exactly like Kaius used to make me feel before everything went to shit. But his gentleness, the careful way he moved, that was pure Frost.

"You don't strike me as someone who frequents places like this," he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. "Want to tell me what brought you here?"

*Yes. God yes. I want to tell someone everything.*

"I just..." My voice came out softer than intended. "I needed to forget for a while."

"Forget what?"

*A mate who betrayed me. A beta who loves me when he shouldn't. A bond that tortures me with images of another woman in his arms.*

"Everything," I whispered.

Damien's hand came up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was so familiar, so Frost-like, it made my chest ache.

"Then let me help you forget." His face was so close now I could count his eyelashes. "Whatever you're carrying, whatever's weighing you down—leave it all here tonight. Just be present. Just... feel."

The kiss happened before my conscious mind could approve it. His lips met mine—soft at first, testing, then deeper as I responded. Electricity crackled through my entire body, making my skin hypersensitive and my thoughts fuzzy.

I melted into him, my upper body collapsing against his chest as the kiss intensified. My hand—acting on pure instinct—slid down to cup the hardness straining against his pants.

*Oh fuck.*

For just a split second, Damien's expression shifted. Something predatory flickered across his features—the look of a hunter who'd just successfully baited a trap.

But then it was gone so quickly I thought I'd imagined it.

He pulled back slightly, his breathing heavy but controlled. "As much as I'd love to continue..." He poured me another glass with steady hands. "House rules. We can't go further than this here."

I blinked, trying to clear the haze of arousal and alcohol. "Then...?"

"If you want more..." He guided me to straddle his lap, his hands respectfully on my waist as his hips rolled upward in a slow, deliberate grind. "Come home with me. We can spend the whole night exploring exactly what you need."

His hardness pressed against me through our clothes, and I couldn't help the small gasp that escaped. He was built like Kaius in every way, and the promise in that movement was unmistakable.

"What do you say?" His lips brushed my ear. "Let me take care of you properly."

My hands found his shoulders—broad and solid like anchors. Through the champagne fog and the heat of arousal, all I could see was them. Kaius's strength. Frost's devotion. Everything I wanted and couldn't have, combined into one perfect package.

"Yes," I heard myself say.

Damien stood effortlessly, lifting me in a princess carry like I weighed nothing. My head fell against his shoulder as he moved toward the door.

*Wait. Evelyn.*

I fumbled for the mental connection, my thoughts sluggish. *Evelyn... I'm leaving early...*

Her response came quickly, accompanied by the distinct sound of flesh striking flesh in the background. *God! How romantic! Go have your adventure, darling! I'll cover for you at the pack tomorrow!*

The door closed behind us, and suddenly we were in the hallway. The sounds of the club—music, laughter, other people's pleasure—faded as Damien carried me toward the exit with confident strides.

Cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside. A sleek black car waited at the curb, looking far too expensive for a club employee.

Damien settled me in the passenger seat with careful hands, then rounded to the driver's side. As he started the engine, he turned to me with that devastating smile.

"Trust me," he said softly. "Tonight will be a night you'll never forget."