The Dragon Prince's Sex Game
Elara’s POV…
The moon was full and low above Eldridge City, a silver eye burning down at me as though it had secrets I already held. My sneakers thudded against the wet pavement, each step a wild drumbeat down the alley. My breath seared my chest, rough and unsmooth, as I dodged a rusted dumpster, the stench of spoiled food barely perceptible over the fear wracking my throat. Behind me, the snarls drew nearer—three werewolves, their amber eyes aglow in darkness, their claws tearing the asphalt as knives sharpened for murder.
"Elara Voss!" Lucius Kane's voice thundered, as silky smooth as velvet but laced with venom. "You can't keep fleeing, omega. You're pack property—to me."
I didn't glance back. I daren't. My heart pounded, not just from the chase, but from what he said. Omega. It was a name, burned into me at sixteen when my pack proclaimed I was defective. I couldn't shift. I was useless. A werewolf that would not change under the influence of the moon was no wolf at all—a reject, left to scrape together a living in the human realm. And now, my alpha who'd exiled me, desired me. Not out of kindness. No, he desired something else, something related to the whispers of power that he thought I possessed.
The alley took a turn to the left, and I slid around it, my too-big sweater catching on a broken brick. It tore, a loose tear that felt like my last shiver of security peeling away. I worked it free, holding the silver dagger in my pocket—the only defense I had, pilfered from a pawn shop and marked with runes that I could barely read. Silver killed werewolves, even those like me who weren't able to shift. If they caught me, I'd make them hurt before they'd take me back to the pack's den.
"Elara!" Lucius's shout drew closer, his enforcers' growls blending into a spine-tingling refrain. I saw their shadows creeping across the spray-painted walls—wolf-like, massive silhouettes advancing too fast for humans, too unyielding for mercy. My legs were rebelling, but I kicked harder, and I saw a chain-link fence at the alley's opposite end. Freedom or ambush, I didn't know, but it was my only chance.
I leapt, fingers scrabbling at the cold metal, boots sliding on the links of the chain. A claw whipped out at my ankle, scraping at the flesh, and I hissed, kicking. My foot struck something hard—a grunt echoed, one of Lucius's guards, probably Cassian, the man with the scarred snout. I heaved myself over the fence, awkwardly landing on the other side, my glasses slipping down my nose. No time to fix them. I sprinted towards the glow of Eldridge University's campus, its towers standing tall like sentinels above the dark sky.
The city thumped around me—car horns blaring, students laughing outside dive bars, oblivious to the monsters among them. Eldridge was a melting pot of humans and invisible supernaturals, a place where I belonged, just another nerdy sophomore with a backpack full of textbooks on mythology and a head full of secrets. I'd escaped here from the pack, to create a life where no one knew that I was a failure of a wolf. But Lucius had followed me, and my sanctuary felt more like a trap lid closing.
I dove into an alley, my heart racing as I pressed up against a brick wall, my ears straining. The snarls had faded away, but I wasn't foolish enough to think they'd lost interest. Lucius was ruthless, his charm a cover for cruelty. Two years ago, at my rejection ritual, he'd stood in front of the pack, his silver hair glinting under the flickering light of torches, declaring me unworthy.
"No wolf, no worth," he'd said, his eyes lingering on me a fraction too long, as though seeing something in me that others didn't. Now, his texts haunted my phone—promises of "redemption" if I returned to him as his mate. As though I'd ever commit myself to a monster like him.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I startled, drawing it out with trembling hands. The screen throbbed: You can't hide, Elara. The moon remembers you. I remember you.
My stomach churned. How did he always find me? I'd dropped my old number, changed apartments, even altered my university records to confuse my trail. But Lucius had resources—pack money, informants, maybe even magic outside my understanding. I shoved the phone aside, gripping the dagger in my hand. I needed to make it to my dorm room, lock the door, and think.
The campus was a maze of ivy-covered buildings and dimly lit paths, but I knew all the shortcuts. I ran through a courtyard, past a statue of some dead scholar, and headed towards the library. It was evening, an oasis in which to be lost among the crowd of worried students cramming for midterms. My roommate, Mia, would be there, probably scolding about her latest urban legend obsession. She was human, blissfully unaware of my true existence, and her loquacity was the only thing grounding me nowadays.
But when I crossed the quad, another smell hit me—a pungent, smoky odor, like a bonfire blended with something extremely, extremely old. It wasn't a werewolf. It wasn't human. My skin prickled, the hairs on the back of my neck rising to attention as my inner wolf, not dead but dormant, stirred awake. I stiffened, scanning the shadows. The quad was empty, except for a group of jocks shooting hoops against the gym, their boisterous laughter echoing in the air. But that aroma. it was off, hazardous, and strangely addictive, as if it was calling me.
I pushed it off as nerves. I did not need that many things to contend with, making up more on top of all the rest. Glass doors to the library loomed above me, and I hurried in, the chill air conditioning biting my wet skin. It was students packed in wall-to-wall, bent over laptops, coffee cups on every other table. I spotted Mia standing in her corner, her hair a bold streak of purple. She waved me over, oblivious that I'd just fled a gang of killers.
"Elara, you're as white as a ghost!" she cried, too loudly, as I dropped into the seat beside her. Her notebook was open on the table, filled with hasty scribbles about "dragon sightings" in Eldridge. I strained to chuckle, readjusting my glasses to hide the shakiness of my hands.
"Just late," I lied, trying to sound more in control than I felt. "What's with the dragon mania now?"
Mia went off on a tangent about urban myths, her eyes aglow with excitement. I half-heard, scanning the area for threat. No Lucius, no amber eyes. But that acrid scent lingered, light but persistent, as if it had tracked me in. My wolf self growled, ordering me to run again, but I didn't. I wasn't secure, but I was safer here, with humans who didn't know monsters were real.
Then the library door swung open, and the scent hit me full force, making my head spin. I turned, and there he was—Aiden Blackwood, captain of the basketball team, striding in like he owned the place. Six-foot-four, all lean muscle and cocky swagger, his dark hair mussed, a tattoo peeking from under his sleeve. Every girl in the room glanced up, some subtle, some not. I sank lower in my chair, heart racing for a different reason now. Aiden was Eldridge’s golden boy, untouchable, and way out of my league. But that scent—fire and ancient power—clung to him like a second skin.
He didn’t notice me, thank God. He never did, unless you counted the times he’d bumped into me in the halls, muttering a distracted “sorry” before moving on. But as he passed our table, his green eyes flicked my way, just for a second, and I swore they glowed—not wolf amber, but something fiercer, like embers in a storm. My breath caught, and my dagger felt heavy in my pocket, a reminder of the world I couldn’t escape.
“Elara?” Mia nudged me. “You okay? You’re staring.”
I snapped my gaze away, cheeks burning. “I’m fine,” I mumbled, but my mind was racing. That scent, that look—what was Aiden Blackwood hiding? And why did it make my wolf, silent for years, howl inside me?
Before I could dwell on it, my phone buzzed again. Another text from Lucius: “Look behind you, omega.”
My blood ran cold. I turned slowly, expecting to see his cruel smile in the library’s shadows. Instead, the lights flickered, and a low growl echoed—not from outside, but from within me. My vision sharpened, my nails lengthening against my will, as if my wolf was clawing its way out for the first time.
And then the library doors burst open, revealing Lucius, his eyes blazing, flanked by his enforcers. “Time’s up, Elara,” he said, his voice a promise of pain.
