JAY: 

"One thing, Jason. Just one instruction," my father barked through the phone. "Keep your dâmn head down, but no, you went soaring in a bar!"

"It wasn't my fault."

"Like it wasn't with the Hawks?" he snapped.

I am not offended; he never trusts me. He always blames me for everything.

"The Unions are going to the West next week," he said after a long pause. "We need a good camouflage."

The Unions aren't just political. They are dangerous. They are an elite, secretive council of the oldest and most powerful Alpha clans across the territory. They maintain balance, peace, and hierarchy among the ruling clans...particularly among rival Alphas.

Inside their Blood Court, they judge the misconduct of the Regions, especially Alphas. Alpha, who initiates war, disrupts the natural order... kills another Alpha. And among these, I am guilty of all.

"I can lie low."

"I can see that," he scoffed. 

My father's asking me to lie low was mostly to shield me from the Union's wrath. Their quest now is to strip me of my Alpha traits. Oh yes, they can. They can not only take it away from me, they will strip me to nothing...more like a living corpse.

And losing my trait is losing my hierarchy. My claims over the South.

"You'II go to Midville. Get busy during the day as you always wanted."

"Going to school isn't getting busy."

"I have talked with the administrators," he said, ignoring my protest. "Make sure you have a haircut."

"No," I said flatly. "I won't go."

How could I? How could I sit in a classroom with a bunch of clueless brats and play pretend?

But my protest was worthless. Days later, I found myself behind the wheel, driving, something I hadn't done since birth, and crashing into some sharp tongued bîtch on campus.

And the second I looked him in the eye, I met his secrets. Thanks to my strong senses, I uncloak him.

He burned up. Heated like a furnace. His scent screamed Omega even if he tried hiding under that false-Alpha swagger.

And when he dared kick me in the balls? That sealed it. He was mine now...my toy. Mine to torment. My entertainment in this godforsaken town.

"Find out who that bîtch is?" I told Luo as he arrived with two of my men in the restroom.

"He is Delvyster Breon," he said, tapping his phone and showing me a photo. "That is his father."

Interesting.

Delvyster Breon. The supposed Alpha heir of the Broen Clan, the same low-class name my father warned me to steer clear of. The one he said had a notorious reputation. The dominant West, I shouldn't interfere with?

Well, Daddy dearest was wrong. He's not a threat. He's a lie in Alpha's clothing.

Driving out, my brain swirled with ideas...ways to make the bîtch pay. For his punches. For pretending. For turning me on.

"Luo," I smirked, eyes gleaming. "About Denny, bring him to me. Tonight."

************

By 11 pm, I still hadn't heard from Luo.

He'd taken two men with him; it should've been easy. I even told him not to raise alarms, just bind and bring. Quiet and fast.

It made me so furious that Luo couldn't carry out a simple task. If I weren't trying to keep a low profile, I'd drag that bîtch here myself.

"He doesn't seem to be home," Luo said from his end.

"What do you mean he isn't home?!" I muttered, bolting in anger.

"No one is here, Jay."

"Stay there until someone appears."

I stormed out of the mansion and climbed into my car. I drove recklessly through the night, headed straight to the downtown bar, the same bar from last week.

No, I wasn't looking for Denny. Not now. 

I am only desperate and impatient. I needed to cool off. I needed release.

The pretty singer with the honey-silk voice that made me forget how to breathe would do just fine. And no, I won't be taking her home with me tonight. I would be taking her right on the goddamn stage if I had to.

And there she was. Under the warm stage lights, crooning into the mic like she owned the night.

The moment her gaze landed on me, I saw it, recognition. Her eyes widened, and her voice trembled just slightly. Whether from fear or desire, I didn't know.

I followed her offstage.

She slipped behind the bar, and I trailed her quickly. It wasn't clear if she was trying to escape, but I didn't care. I grabbed her and pulled her against my chest.

"I hope you're not trying to run from me, pretty dear," I said, breathing her in. "You should be happy to see me again."

"I am...so pleased to see you," she stammered, her voice slightly hoarse.

"You should be," I whispered, lifting a hand to her perfect make-up, one I would be ruining soon.

Her face...now that I saw her up close, she looked oddly familiar. Something in the shape of her mouth. Her posture. Her scent.

She oozed heat, I know for sure. But it was dimmed, coated with undetectable redolent.

She flinched as I gripped her neck lightly and sniffed her. My sense struggled to figure her out. It was both taunting and challenging.

I sniffed her again. This time, I caught it. A masculine scent hidden in a feminine fragrance.

I recognized that masculinity. That heat. That masked Omega scent.

Denny!

What the actual hell? Was I thinking about him in a moment like this? Was my côck reacting because of her...or him?

"You smell too familiar," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Tell me something, have we met before?"

"You mean...the night you saved me?"

Right. The night she sang me to life. 

I leaned in closer. "You owe me for that," I growled softly, my voice thick. "And you will repay me. Right here. Right now."

My words hadn't even landed when she broke free from my grip, surprising me with her strength. I took a step forward-

"Becky?" a voice called from the side entrance, slicing through the tension like a blade. "Come on, it is time."

I gritted my teeth, eyes flaring. I could take her in a minute. I was that boned to finish quickly, but the owner of the voice refused to leave without her.

"I should get back," she said and half-ran off, disappearing backstage.

And I...I was left there. Raging. Throbbing. And suspicious as hell.

Denny, Becky? Why am I going through the same kind of nuts for these bîtches?

I pulled out my phone, eyes still on the darkened hallway. "Luo," I barked. "Do you have him?"

"Not yet."

I slammed a fist into the wall, hard. "Don't come back without him!"

Back in the bar, Becky had vanished. The stage was empty. The music was low and forgettable. But I sat there, beer in hand, waiting.

Not for her. Not anymore. I was waiting for the real call.

And it came, my phone vibrating across the table, snapping me to attention.

"Jay," Luo's voice came through. "We've got him."

DENNY:

My breath stopped.

He was there. Sitting among the drinkers. Jaden. Jason. The guy from last week. The one who saved me.

The realisation crushed me like a falling wall. They were the same person. The one who shattered that drunk's head...the same bâstârd I punched at school.

And now, those eyes, cold, sharp, commanding, were fixed on me with the same intensity as that day. His stare pierced straight through the makeup, the wig, the fake lashes. 

He couldn't know. Could he?

There was no way. I had used Becky's strongest perfume and Denny's cloaking-cologne before coming on stage. After witnessing his insane sense of smell at school, I didn't want to risk another exposure from just anyone.

My pulse thundered beneath my skin as I stepped off stage, avoiding his gaze and darting toward the backroom. I needed to escape. I wasn't ready...not for him, not for whatever game he might want to play with Becky.

But he caught me.

I felt the pull of his presence before he even touched me.

When I turned, he was already there, too close, too composed, too dangerous.

"I hope you are not escaping from me, pretty dear," he said, his voice dark velvet, the kind that tempts and destroys. "You should be pleased to see me again."

My throat tightened. His voice was lower now, rougher. Hungrier. 

This wasn't about last week. It wasn't about saving a girl. 

This was something else.

"I...I am pleased to see you," I replied, forcing Becky's shy tone.

He hadn't come for introductions. He came to feed his needs. It was obvious Becky affected him. I affected him.

And I wanted him, too. I mean...the guy from last week.

Thankfully, the bar owner came to my rescue before his plot escalated. Jay didn't move. His brow furrowed, but he backed away as I slipped past him.

Halfway to the house, I pulled over, cleaned off my makeup, applied Denny's cologne, peeled off Becky's dress, dumped everything in the trunk of my car, and drove home.

But Jay's men were waiting. Not for Becky, I was sure of that. They were waiting for the bully who busted their boss's balls. 

They tossed me inside their car and drove.

I didn't fight. I didn't struggle. It would be useless to. Instead, I reserved my energy for their boss.

**************

TEN HOURS LATER: (FROM THE BEGINNING)

"Where is he?" 

I heard him roar in the hallway. Jay Corato. Storm of power, fury, and certainty.

The room his men had locked me in was bare. A single chair sat in the centre like a throne of interrogation. No curtains. No decor. Nothing but cold silence.

The door slammed open, and he stood...filling the frame, eyes fixed on me.

"Hello," I waved from the chair. "I heard you missed me."

He stared at me, gaze narrowing. Then a slow grin slid across his face.

"Well," he said, his fingers reaching for his buttons. "You heard correctly."

He undid his shirt, revealing hard, sculpted muscle, a display so intentional to make my breath catch.

And dâmn it, he succeeded. My eyes dropped for a second before I pulled myself together.

"Why am I here, Jaden?" I asked, voice firm despite the throb in my chest.

"I believe you know why," he said, stepping forward. That grin of his? Deadlier than ever.

Of course, I knew. I was here to pay for my sins. What I didn't know...was how he wanted the debt paid.

"How much?" I asked. "How much to fix your balls?"

He chuckled darkly. "So you do know it has to do with my balls."

His voice dropped. "But you are wrong. Money can't fix me...only you can. And you will."

My pulse flinched. God, he was infuriating. And yet, something about his words gripped deeper than fear.

I rose from the chair, jaw locked. "What do you want from me?"

He moved in, deliberate, powerful, commanding. "A lot of things," he said softly. "But let's start with this...something doesn't add up. And it is driving me insane."

My skin tingled. My heart beat faster. I already knew where this was going.

"What exactly?" I asked.

"You." He stepped closer. "I've seen you fight like an Alpha."

He took another step. "I've seen you walk, handsome, proud...like a king."

I flinched. Not because of his further step, but from the way he said handsome like it meant something.

"But I've also seen you pretty." He tilted his head, gaze fierce. "Very pretty."

I stopped breathing.

"So tell me, Denny," he said, voice low, intense. "Who are you? Because I swear, you smell like the boy who punched me into ruts...and the girl who sang me into them."

I clenched my fists. My chest rose and fell with ragged breath.

He leaned closer, grazing my ear like smoke. "That can't be a coincidence, can it?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," I said, stepping back, my voice barely holding.

"Oh, don't play dumb." He followed. "An Omega pretending to be an Alpha could easily pretend to be a woman. A singer. Becky, for instance."

"You've really gone insane."

"Have I?" his eyes narrowed like blades. "Then I will find out myself. It won't be long," he paused, voice rich with warning. "And if you're both...then you're both mine."

"And if I'm not?"

He smirked. "Then, you're still mine. Mine to torment."

"What the hell does that even mean?"

He ignored me.

Instead, he stripped his shirt to the floor, revealing a torso gleaming like a war god's. Every ridge of his abs flexed with power. The room lit like a chandelier, nearly striking me blind. 

And when he pulled out his belt, letting his trousers hang loose on his hips, I understood exactly how he meant to torment me.

I backed up, but there was nowhere to go. The wall hit my spine just as he stopped in front of me...close enough that I could smell his needs, feel the burn of his curiosity...his obsession.

He took my hand. Pressed it against his hardness.

"Feel that?" he whispered. "You wrecked me, Denny. As you. As the singer. You wrecked me both ways. And now..." His hand slid down, tracing my waist. "I will ruin you the same way."

My breath caught.

"You can't touch me," I said, voice trembling. "I am not yours."

He leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. "You are. You just don't remember it yet."

I shuddered. My stance collapsed. "Jaden..."

He kissed me. Hard. Hot.

A kiss that punished and pleased. My thoughts shattered against the weight of it. My knees almost buckled.

"Unless you tell me the truth," he whispered, breathing in my mouth. "I can stop."

His eyes searched mine, giving me a way out. But I didn't take it.

"I am not your singer."

"You are a liar," he said, smirking.

Then he spun me toward the wall, his hand flat against my chest, pinning me. 

My body sparkled.

"I will pull the truth from you," he growled.

"How?"

"By fvcking you, Omega," he said darkly, "until you admit it."

My entire body jolted. Because the truth is, I was throbbing. Hard.

DENNY:

He pulled me forward, and with a single shove, I landed hard on the chair. Then, he slid his finger into my mouth. His thumb tasted faintly of smoke-bitter, raw and invasive.

He twirled it against my tongue, and I held his gaze, reading the steam in his eyes, feeling the slow burn of dominance. I could bite him, but let him enjoy it.

He shut his eyes, moaning softly, clearly aroused by the thought of his dîck in my mouth. 

That was my chance. A perfect moment to stain his ego.

I kicked his knee. He stumbled, grunting from the impact, and collapsed on both knees in front of me, his jaw smacking against my thigh.

He writhed in pain while I remained seated, smug and satisfied.

"Now, you've got a jaw to fix, too," I said, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his face up to mine. "And you'll fix them yourself!"

I leaned in, about to headbutt him-but he was faster. With a swift jerk, he slammed his head into my jaw. I yelped and toppled backwards, groaning as pain bloomed through my skull.

Before I could recover, he'd already wrapped his belt around my wrists, yanked me back into the chair, and bound my hands tightly behind me.

"Now, you've got a lot to pay for," he growled, unzipping his trousers and pushing his underwear aside.

He was thick... massive and fully aroused.

His length pressed against my lips, demanding entry. I kept my jaw tight, but he was determined.

With his dîck pushing harder onto my lips, my mouth opened, and he went all in. "Don't dare use your teeth, Denny, or I will snap your neck."

He would. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

He gripped my head and began thrusting in and out of my mouth, diving deep into my throat, choking me with every stroke. He wasn't just tormenting me; he was relentless. Just like he said he'd be. 

He was enjoying himself. Thoroughly. When he wasn't staring into my dazed, flickering eyes, he had his head thrown back-moaning, smiling, completely lost in the moment.

And the truth? I was enjoying it, too. Even if part of me felt small under his control. Even if I hated how much I craved it. I loved how his cock felt both fleshy and rough on my tongue.

Then suddenly, he jerked me off the chair and shoved me hard against the wall. He pinned me chest-first, one arm pressing into my back as the other fumbled at the button of my jeans.

"Don't...Jaden..." I groaned, struggling against his grip.

"I know you want this," he said, ripping my trousers and underwear down to my ankles. "You are burning up, Denny. You made me this way."

He wasn't wrong. I was leaking, thick and wet with pre-cûm, my body betraying every ounce of resistance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him wet his palm with his saliva and reach between butt, spreading it over my hole.

"I will kill you..."

"You are welcome to try," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.

He gripped himself and slid into me in one unrelenting push, breaking past every shield I had left. My posture buckled. My voice cracked. My Alpha composure shattered.

"Shît, Denny," he groaned through gritted teeth. "You are so tight. Was I your first?"

"I fvcking hate you, Jaden."

"And I'll fvcking devour you until you never forget my name is Jason," he snarled, thrusting harder. "Say it. Say my name."

"Bâstârd!"

************

I woke up with my body screaming.

My throat was sore. My back ached. My butthole...I couldn't even describe the pain, and yet, the worst part wasn't physical. It was the fact that I let Jay touch me. That he got to me. He had marked me. That somewhere, in all that sceneplay, I had wanted it...even if just for a second, I enjoyed it. He satisfied me. 

I stared at the ceiling of my room, trying not to relive it, the push, the pressure, the scent of him. My skin still carried his imprint. My mind replayed every second on a loop I couldn't break.

I couldn't forget it, especially the moment he took the chair and made me ride him, with my hands bound and his hands holding me down, guiding me to release.  

"Get out of it," I hissed at myself, throwing the blanket off.

I dragged myself to the mirror. Looking at myself...ruined, raw, and pretending to be Alpha when he couldn't even protect himself.

Shît me.

School felt like enemy territory. Every hallway could be a battlefield. But when I saw Jay? That battlefield lit up with something else...fire. And not the burning kind you run from.

The kind you want to touch.

He was leaning against a glass window, laughing with his crew. A devil dressed in daylight, like the sky itself had fallen just to make room for him. 

He saw me. I tried to look away, but he was already behind me before I blinked. 

"You taste better than you fight," he whispered, breath grazing my ear like a sin.

I stiffened, fists clenched. 

"No," he said, voice mocking. "Don't burn up. If you do, you excite me. And if I get excited, I don't know what will happen in a stall with you against the wall."

That was incited on purpose. And he succeeded because I stood wondering which of the restroom stalls would contain us.

Jesus, Denny!

I should hate him. I do.

But that night, I couldn't sleep. All his words about the stall lingered in my head like a toddler with nursery rhymes. 

I stared at the box beneath my bed, holding my wig, makeup and heels...the only part of myself that could make me forget anything.

But not anymore. I can't go to the bar yet. Not when Jay is out to confirm his point.

Walking out of my room to grab a glass of water, I met my father with members of the Union talking in his study. I recognise them because one of them is my father's cousin.

I hid to eavesdrop. They said a lot of things, but the one thing that put me into a pool of thoughts was the news that Jay had killed his ex-mate, an Omega, and her lover, an Alpha, and now, the Union are here to apprehend him.

They had intel that he frequents a bar downtown, and would be going after him tonight.

Jay would be there. He had bragged about finding out the connection between Becky and me, and to do that, he'd go to the bar now, and every night.

That serves him right. He should be captured and dealt with for his sins, right?

If yes, then why am I jumping out of my window, racing to the bar with no footwear?