#2. Mistake
988 Words
Betty walked back into the hotel she had visited earlier in order to stay around and surprise francis, her steps unsteady, her breath catching every few seconds. Tears streamed down her cheeks without stopping, hot and blinding. Everything in her chest felt tight, too tight like someone was squeezing her heart with merciless fingers. She kept wiping her eyes, but new tears blurred her vision again and again.
She reached her hotel room door, fumbled with the key, it didn’t work but when she pushed it open, it opened. The room inside was completely dark. She didn’t bother turning on the lights or opening the curtains. She didn’t even care enough to close the door properly. The darkness felt safer, quieter, like it could swallow her whole.
Betty stumbled forward, her knees weak, her breathing shaky. She let herself fall onto the bed face first, clutching the sheets as sobs tore out of her. Her mind replayed everything, Francis, the betrayal, the humiliation. The pain sat in her chest like a heavy stone she couldn’t move. She wanted to scream, but all that came out were broken, shaky breaths. Eventually she curled into herself, crying until her body grew too exhausted to keep shaking.
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Alpha Grayson felt the faintest shift of presence the moment the hotel door clicked. Even in sleep, even in his most vulnerable state, his wolf never completely rested. Something or someone had entered his space. His senses sharpened through the haze of heat burning through his body.
His eyes remained closed, his breathing rough. The full moon energy still clung to him, making him restless, sensitive, dangerously aware. Whoever had stepped into his room carried the scent of sadness, something desperate and broken.
He didn’t need to open his eyes to know it must have been the hotel’s doing. The staff in these human cities often sent women to men, especially when they sensed status or money. They probably thought they were doing him a favor. Wolves weren’t a common sight here so no one knows his true identity but anyone could feel the danger and dominance he carried, even when he hid his aura.
A soft weight sank onto his bed, a small figure collapsing with a shaky exhale. He heard her sniff hard. For a second, he inhaled deeper, waiting for disgust or irritation, but instead a warm wave of instinct rolled through him. His wolf, heated and unsettled, pushed forward, craving closeness.
Maybe the staff had decided to send him a woman to ease his tension. Maybe she came for money. Maybe she simply didn’t care who she landed beside. Whatever her reason, she was here and he was vulnerable.
Grayson turned toward her without thinking. His body moved with instinct rather than thought. He reached out, gathered her trembling form into his arms and pulled her beneath him. Her small hands pressed weakly against his chest for a moment, but then she went still, exhausted, defeated. Something in that stillness tugged at him.
The heat consuming him surged and he leaned down, sealing her mouth with his. Her breath hitched against him, soft and surprised. He didn’t stop, not when his wolf growled with need, not when her fingers curled helplessly in the sheets. The night blurred into instinct, heat, and movement, neither of them speaking a single word. The darkness swallowed everything else.
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Morning arrived quietly.
Sunlight slipped through the closed window, turning thin lines of brightness across the room. Grayson stirred at the warmth touching his skin. He let out a low yawn and stretched, running a hand through his hair. His arm brushed something soft beside him.
A body.
He froze.
His eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright. Lying next to him, curled into the blankets, was a young woman, fast asleep, peaceful and undeniably beautiful in the soft morning light. Her hair spilled across the pillow, her lashes resting gently on flushed cheeks.
Grayson stared at her, recognition flickering slowly.
The woman from last night.
The supposed wh0re the hotel had sent.
But now, with clear eyes and sunlight outlining her features, nothing about her fit that assumption. She was delicate, almost innocent looking. And from what he’d felt the night before… she hadn’t been with anyone before him.
A virgin.
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand across his jaw. What had driven her to come to him like that? What pushed a girl into such a vulnerable place that she would give herself to a stranger in exchange for money or comfort or whatever she had needed?
He didn’t know, and a small part of him didn’t want to know. Complications were the last thing he needed.
He got out of bed with a swift, practiced movement. As he dressed, he glanced at her again. The girl stretched faintly, pulling the blanket down from her chest. Grayson’s breath caught before he forced himself to look away. She was breathtaking, more beautiful than he had noticed in the dark.
He opened his wallet and pulled out a stack of cash, more than enough for whatever she thought she came here for. He placed it on the nightstand beside her, close enough that she’d see it the moment she woke.
It was the least he could do. He didn’t make promises, and he didn’t entangle himself with strangers. Money was cleaner, simple and final.
Grayson grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and paused for one last look at the sleeping girl. For a second, something tugged at him, a strange, quiet feeling he couldn’t place. He shut it down immediately.
Without another thought, he turned, walked out of the room, and headed toward the hotel’s garage. His bike sat where he had left it, gleaming under the dim lights. He swung his leg over, started the engine, and the rumble echoed through the space.
He zoomed it to life and drove off.
- Writer
