Mated To The Alpha Of Hell

÷ Durella ÷

My feet are killing' me, swear to God. Ten hours on your feet slinging' hash browns will do that to a girl. Leena, my best friend since kindergarten, practically bounces beside me, lookin' like she just downed a double espresso. Me? I'm a tired dishrag.

"Durella, come on!" she chirps, way too chipper for this hour. "Let's loosen up a bit, yeah? You work too damn hard."

She points across the street, a neon sign practically screaming' "Hell" in red that bleeds onto the sidewalk. My stomach does a little flip-flop. "A club, Leena? Seriously?"

"Seriously!" she insists, grabbing my arm with that iron grip of hers. "New place downtown, everyone's talking about it. Besides, you need a night off from those textbooks and endless orders of fries."

“Thanks, but no. Not today.” I say absentmindedly.

"Durella, come on!" she practically shouts, her voice laced with an infectious enthusiasm I can't resist. "College life isn't all about dusty tomes and caffeine-fueled all-nighters. Live a little!"

Leena is the antithesis of everything I am - spontaneous, bold, and perpetually on the hunt for adventure. Me? I'm comfortable in the quiet solitude of my apartment, buried in a good book with a mug of tea for company.

But even the most introverted soul needs a break sometimes. And Leena, bless her heart, has an uncanny knack for sniffing out the perfect escape when I need it most. Plus, the undeniable allure of a night out with my best friend is hard to resist.

With a sigh, I push myself away from the counter. "Alright, alright," I concede, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Let's see what trouble you have planned for tonight."

Leena beams, grabbing my hand and practically dragging me out of my night shift AND workplace. "Trouble? No trouble, just a little fun at The Inferno. You haven't been in ages!"

“Is that the name? That's…uncanny…”

The heavy bass from inside vibrates through the ground, almost like a second heartbeat. An unexpected jolt shoots through me, chasing away some of the tiredness. Maybe one night wouldn't hurt.

As we weave our way down the crowded hallway, the familiar scent of cheap pizza and stale beer wafts up from the floor below. A pang of loneliness hits me, reminding me of the life I

don't have. No parents cheering me on from the sidelines, no siblings to share inside jokes with. Just me and Leena, scaling through these turbulent waters of adulthood, one adventure (or disaster) at a time.

We push through the heavy double doors, and whoa. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and something else, sweet and musky. Bodies writhe on a raised platform, bathed in strobing lights that make everything look like a bad disco nightmare. The music pounds in my chest, a rhythm so loud I feel it in my teeth. Okay, maybe a night off wasn't the best idea, but hey, Leena's already halfway to the bar with a mischievous grin plastered on her face.

"Two of your strongest!" she yells at the bartender, a guy with a handlebar moustache and enough tattoos to rival a sailor. He raises an eyebrow at her, then glances at me. I offer a weak smile.

"Make mine something sweet," I add, hoping sugary poison will at least be painless.

Leena throws a triumphant fist in the air. "Two girly drinks coming right up!" she yells over the music. While she chats with the bartender, I scan the crowd. Guys mostly, all looking like they could bench press a truck. Then there's the girls, all tight dresses and even tighter smiles. Not exactly my scene.

The bartender slides our drinks over, pink and bubbly with a tiny umbrella perched on the rim. I give Leena a look.

"What?" she asks, all innocent. "You said something sweet."

Taking a tentative sip, I gotta admit, it ain't bad. Kinda fruity, kinda fizzy. As I sip, the music changes. Slower, deeper, with a melody that wraps around you like a warm hug. People start slow clapping, and the spotlight on the platform flares to life.

My breath catches in my throat. A man stands there, impossibly broad, his muscles rippling underneath a black tank top that leaves way too little to the imagination. But it ain't his build, though that's enough to make a girl weak in the knees, it's his eyes. Gold. Molten, liquid gold that seems to pierce through the crowd, landing right on me. A shiver runs down my spine.

He moves with a dangerous grace, his body swaying to the music. Every flick of a wrist, every confident step sends a thrill through me. It's like he owns the stage, owns the entire place, and maybe, for just a second, he owns me too.

Then something unexpected happens. He leaps off the stage, landing with the grace of a panther right in front of me. My heart stutters in my chest. This ain't part of the show.

"You," he says and his voice is a low rumble that sends shivers erupting over my skin. "You're different."

His gaze holds mine captive, intense and almost… afraid? Before I can even think of what to say, the crowd starts to roar, the music swells, and Leena shoves her drink into my hand.

"Looks like this is your lucky night, Durella!" she yells and a devilish grin is plastered on her face. "Now come on, let's get dancing!”

I look around for him, but he's gone. Like he wasn't just in front of me.

Impatiently, Leena grabs my hand. Her excitement is infectious. The crowd parts like the Red Sea, and we're swept into the throng of sweaty bodies. I try to lose myself in the music…then I see him again.

I try to let the throbbing beat be a welcome distraction from the golden eyes boring into me from across the dance floor.

Hadez, the name seems to echo in my head, a strange whisper carried on the pulsing music. It must've been someone in the crowd, maybe the bartender, who called him that when he walked in.

My eyes can't seem to tear themselves away from him. He's a mountain of a man, sculpted from solid muscle that are stocked under his tank top. His hair, the colour of midnight and just as untamed, falls across his forehead in a way that screams "don't give a damn." Even from a distance, I can see the glint of a silver ring on his ear and a red tattoo peeking out from under the sleeve of his tank top. It looks like flames licking up his arm, the design almost hypnotic.

But it's his eyes that hold me captive.

Those eyes…how can someone have eyes like that? They're freaking gold like molten metal.

Once again, they pierce through the crowd, landing squarely on me. There's a hunger in them, a raw intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat. They're framed by thick lashes, dark as his hair, and set in a face carved from granite. His jawline is sharp, angles softened only slightly by the stubble that shadows his chin.

Then, he throws his head back, a laugh erupting from his chest. The sound is deep, almost primal, and it sends shivers rippling down my spine. A girl with hair like spun copper, her dress clinging to curves that wouldn't quit, leans into him. Her laughter tinkles like wind chimes. He wraps an arm around her waist, his fingers lingering a beat too long on the small of her back.

My stomach clenches as a sour knot twists in my gut. I feel uneasy. It's not just possessiveness I see in his eyes, it's something more, something deeper. He whispers something in her ear, his voice too low for me to hear, but from the way she throws her head back to release a breathless gasp from her lips, it tells me all I need to know.

He glances back at me, his gaze slowly moving over my body in a way that feels too intense. His gaze lingers on my body a fraction too long. It feels like he's judging me and throwing a

challenge at me with just a casual glance. My cheeks burn with a mixture of anger and something else, a strange interest that makes me both uneasy and curiously drawn in.

Who does this guy think he is? Mr. Universe with a crown of arrogance? He winks at the copper-haired girl, a gesture that oozes an almost predatory confidence, and then his eyes meet mine again. This time, there's a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. It's a silent dare that ignites a spark of rebellion deep within me.

He leans down and murmurs something in the girl's ear which makes her giggle and bat her eyelashes at him. Then, he bends down further to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. I can practically feel the heat radiating from their bodies and the intimacy of the gesture makes me clench my fists.

He pulls back slowly, making her feel a rush and leaving her breathless. Her gaze flits over to me, and her eyes are full of triumph and smugness. What the fuck does she think is? I clench my jaw, feeling upset and ready to explode.

He finally tears his gaze away from the girl and his eyes settle back on me. There's a flicker of something in their golden depths, something like a challenge, maybe even a bit of amusement. He raises an eyebrow arrogantly and mockingly.

It's the last straw.

My blood starts to simmer and my anger mingles with a strange, new kind of heat that makes my cheeks burn.

The music changes again, faster, more aggressive. It basically turns into an assault on my senses, the pounding beat vibrating through the floor and resonating in my bones. Leena disappears into the throng of bodies, lost in the pulsating wave of movement. I surrender to the rhythm, letting the frustration of the day melt away with each forceful step. Sweat slicks my forehead, a cool contrast to the heat building within me.

Suddenly, a hand clamps around my wrist, yanking me out of my self-made oblivion. I whip my head around, expecting Leena, but instead find myself face-to-face with Hadez.

÷ Durella ÷

His golden eyes hold mine captive and I can see a wild spark lighting up inside them. He leans closer, and I feel the heat radiating off his body so strongly it makes me aware of the thin barrier of my clothes. His voice, deep and rumbling, makes me shiver as it surrounds me.

"You dance like a scared kitten," he smirks and the amusement is evident in his voice as well as it is in his gleaming golden eyes.

The audacity of it! Hot and immediate anger flares within me, momentarily pushing aside the strange pull I feel towards him.

"Maybe I don't need a lesson from a man who seems more interested in collecting phone numbers than dancing," I retort.

The crowd around us falls silent as well as the music which becomes a distant thrumming in the face of our sudden stand-off. Hadez's smile falters and a flicker of surprise crosses his face but is quickly replaced by a predatory glint in his eyes. The air starts to feel filled with a strange energy, c