Diva pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding so loud she could almost hear it in her skull. The Stripper’s Den reeked of cheap perfume, sweat, and lust ... a cocktail of sin that made her chest tighten and her nose burn.
“f**k,” she muttered under her breath, clutching the edge of her tattered cloak. She could still hear the guards outside shouting, “Find her! The Princess of the Guardian Pack is missing! She’s wearing a brown hood...she’s dangerous!”
Her pulse roared. They were so close.
The flashing lights from the bar leaked through the half-open VIP door beside her. The bouncer’s attention was glued to the stage where a dancer twirled around a pole, so Diva slipped in quietly ... or so she thought.
The stench hit her first. Expensive liquor. Cigars. Sweat. And somethi
