Page 74 of Reaper's Pack

My cock rather liked the color on her, standing at full attention the moment she had drifted shyly into Knox’s bedroom while we were getting ready for the outing. Even now, an hour later, desire scorched through my veins, and every sensual sway of her hips promised that I wouldn’t get through the night without at least half an erection tenting my trousers.

Mind you, most of the human men present must have been plagued by something similar—because fuck me, all these females in short, tight little outfits, their hair styled, their faces dewy with makeup… It was a delectable tease that no man could resist. Nightclub had to be code for a mating pit; I was sure of it.

Standing on the outskirts of the writhing mass of humans, I couldn’t recall how we had settled on this particular venue. Sampson’s Corner. The most popular club in Lunadell, according to its website. All I remembered was that yesterday Hazel wished to celebrate the fact that her entire pack had passed the most important step in our training: the first field tests. Knox had suggested pizza again. Declan had proposed an outing into the city. I had requested something with music.

And now here we were. This certainly was music by its most basic definition, but I could hardly understand the jumbled words—though what did come through was overtly sexual.

At least the drunken humans seemed to like it, occasionally screaming along to the lyrics, especially the females. While it wasn’t a locale I would frequent, the building itself was suitable enough. After waiting in a line outside on the sidewalk for about twenty minutes, Declan insisting we get the full human experience, we had been granted access to Sampson’s Corner, a three-level nightclub in the heart of Lunadell. The main floor had been just as packed as this, only it served as a spot to drink and chat—if one could even hear conversation over the din. Above that was a rooftop patio illuminated by countless strings of light, and this here, in the basement, was the pulse of the club—its dance floor, its busiest bars, and a few shadowy corridors spiderwebbing off into fuck knows what.

Not my scene. Certainly not Knox’s either. Declan only seemed to enjoy it because Hazel hadn’t stopped smiling since we’d arrived. But, at the very least, the drinks were tasty; loitering near one of the brick walls under an obnoxious black speaker, I gulped down half the mixed cocktail in my plastic cup. Vodka and some other concoction, something sweet and tangy, a smooth blend that oozed inside and warmed my gut. Knox was already onto his third scotch; I spied my alpha at the bar, towering over the humans around him and sticking out like a sore thumb with all that hair.

But we looked the part, each sporting the same uniform as the other males: jeans and a button-up, all in dark, muted colors. Hazel, meanwhile, stood out like a fucking beacon. Swirling my cocktail in the plastic cup, I scanned the crowd slowly, taking in the array of colors and sizes, textures of female hair and expressions on the males’ faces, until I found her and Declan.

Neither knew what the fuck they were doing on the dance floor, but when the humans jumped and threw their arms up, so did they.

It was rather endearing, actually. This was Hazel’s first experience with a modern-day nightclub, same as us, and she appeared to be having a good time. Cheeks flushed a light bronze, her eyes glittered like starlight beneath the club lights, her white waves wild and free. Each bounce unleashed a cloud of her scent, hitting all three of us hard despite the maelstrom of other smells in the windowless space.

And that dress. Ruby red, sleeveless, to her midthighs. Skintight and slinky, every curve on display. The neckline arched delicately over her ample cleavage, her breasts propped up tonight as if to fit in with the other females. Hazel needn’t try to look like anything or anyone but herself; my body responded just as eagerly to her in shapeless reaper robes as it did for that dress.

Speaking of eager… Desire throbbed through our pack bond when she flipped her hair, then spun in place, laughing freely, head thrown back in wild abandon. My cock stiffened, and I adjusted it as discreetly as I could in the darkness, not needing the entire club to know I had a raging hard-on.

Declan coiled an arm around her waist, dragging her flush against him so that his mouth found her neck. She arched into him, her fingers trailing through his hair before she spun out, cautious as always not to show one of us more physical affection than the other. A smirk tugged at my mouth, and I downed the rest of my drink. She needn’t worry about such things; I could watch Declan fuck her, right here, right now, without an ounce of jealousy.

Well. Maybe a bit. Because I’d want to be in the thick of it with them.

But a pulse of possessive annoyance thrummed through our bond when another male wandered too close to her, sidling up behind Hazel like he was about to grab her. Declan moved in before I could, locking eyes with the human briefly over Hazel’s head. Ten seconds of unbroken eye contact had the male backing off—all without the reaper noticing.

Good. Looking like that, so damn scrumptious, positively delectable, Hazel would attract the attention of every hungry male present.

But she was ours.

Although I had no interest in jumping around the mass of sweaty humans, Hazel’s smile was just too beautiful to ignore. I sauntered forward, eyes locked on her, eager to nibble down her throat just as Declan had—

Until I felt it.

A breath on the back of my neck.

I stiffened.

Desire gave way to heightened vigilance, and I whirled around, searching for the source with a keen eye and flared nostrils, finding nothing but the brick wall and a few cobwebs rustling in the corner beneath a speaker. An air vent broke up the red pattern, metallic and dark grey—a possible source for the rush of air, only this had felt purposeful. If I hadn’t felt that vent’s breath before, why now?

Tossing my plastic cup aside, I rotated slowly in place, studying the club with more intention than I had previously. Eyes pierced me from all sides; someone was watching.

But who?

Humans filled the space to bursting, and they were all looking for something. Another human. A drink. A distraction. The odd one glanced my way occasionally, but their quick scan was nothing compared to what burned into me now. I stopped on my third cautious circle, every sense on fire, and glared at the brickwork.

Nothing.

Nothing but a good seven feet of empty space between me and the wall, the vent, the speaker, the shivering cobwebs…

Without a care for who might see me, I crossed between realms, leaving the mortal behind for the celestial.

And came face-to-face with a bloody man.

Our noses mere inches apart.

Both our eyes widened. Surprise punctuated the sudden meeting, replaced swiftly by adrenaline, the urge to fight hitting me for the first time—ever. Hellhounds in the past had always thrown the first metaphorical punch, but as I stared into the green eyes of a man, this thing who wore the flesh of a human covered in bloody symbols, I pulsated with aggression.

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