The One

Fated Night

Before spiriting off to their respective vehicles, Christian announced with the gravitas of a grand master, "Let's go! Meet me there around midnight." With that, they slid into their cars and sped off towards their destinies.

Dapperly dressed and freshly showered, Don Jason and Alpha Christian headed to Randon Club, proudly owned by Alpha Christian. Upon arrival, Christian sauntered in through the VVIP exit, a king returning to his domain.

"Alpha." "Don." The chorus of greetings rang out from the bouncers and staff of The Randon Club, instantly shifting Christian into business mode as he addressed the manager who had come to greet him.

"Is everything running smoothly in my absence?" he inquired, glancing sharply at the manager as they ascended toward the private VVIP Room on the second floor.

The manager hesitated, his voice quaking slightly. "Well, everything's been... smooth, as always, Alpha. No surprises or mishaps. We've kept things in order, just as you like it." But there was an undeniable tremor in his tone that caught Christian's attention.

"Why does your voice sound as if you're narrating a horror story?" Christian quipped, eyeing the manager with a raised brow while they continued their walk.

"In truth," the manager stammered, "it's because we weren't aware of your arrival, Alpha, and so we opened the VVIP floor to a few human couples who checked in fifteen minutes ago. They booked the VVIP Room directly opposite your favourite one."

"No worries, Eli," Christian assured nonchalantly, "As long as they steer clear of my cherished space and bring some substantial cash, we're good. After all, this is a business, not a charity."

Eli bowed out, grateful for the reprieve, and Christian continued toward the room, only to pause mid-step, his senses piqued. He inhaled deeply, perplexed by a familiar scent wafting through the air. "What in the world? Am I imagining things, or is that the scent of vanilla again?!"

Arlo growled softly in response, "That's no figment, mate. I've fallen head over heels for this fragrance! It sends my wolf into a frenzy, and I'm practically salivating at the thought of our mate. Honestly, when she smiled at us this morning, I nearly keeled over from sheer enchantment."

Christian resumed his stride toward the VVIP room, his heart racing, "Arlo, I'm right there with you. Truly, she's going to be the end of us."

"Oh, my goddess, how I miss her," Arlo sighed, the longing palpable.

As Jason entered the room first, he pointed dramatically toward the adjacent VVIP room. "Dude, we have guests right across from us!"

"Right, Eli mentioned them. No bother, as long as they don't disrupt our night or come prancing around our door. We're fine," Christian replied, shrugging off the concern.

Unfazed, Jason's eyes sparkled with mischief as an idea hatched in his mind. "How about we have a little fun with the ladies before we chase after our queens tomorrow?" A smirk crept onto his face, only to be met with a warning snarl from Arlo.

"Nah, I'd rather skip this round. Arlo is seething at the mere thought of us getting close to any woman other than our mate, and I'm inclined to agree with him," Christian announced, plopping down opposite Jason with a playful huff. "What a loyal companion you are, Arlo."

Arlo's voice dropped to a husky whisper, "I am Jason. I've found my mate, and nothing under the moon can stop me from claiming her—only her." He emphasised 'her' as though he were brandishing a sword, aimed squarely at his beloved.

In a flash, Arlo materialised, muttering under his breath, "Bloody prick Jason," before vanishing back into the shadows, leaving Christian to take the reins while remaining a ghostly presence at the back of their minds.

"Ah, Arlo, as predictable as ever," Jason smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching. "No one—absolutely no one—dares speak ill of his mate with her standing right before him."

Christian chuckled at the banter, replying in jest, "Yup, that's him. Possessive? Absolutely. Obsessive? Without a doubt—definitely not my style," he added, earning a low growl from Arlo through their mental connection. Christian simply laughed, utterly unfazed by his wolf's indignation.

Taking a leisurely sip of his scotch, Christian eyed Jason, who was opposite him, raising his glass to down another shot of whisky. "Oh, by the way, when I walked in here, I caught the scent of vanilla. The same intoxicating fragrance as my mate. Am I losing my marbles? I can smell her everywhere!"

"Maybe you're just hopelessly pining for her—or perhaps her scent has lodged itself deep within your memory like an unwarranted earworm," Jason replied, leaning forward, glass now perched innocently on the table. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "What the hell! Christian! That's your mate, isn't it?!"

His voice echoed through the room, drawing Christian's attention to the enchanting figure across the way. Instantly, he sprang to his feet, eyes wide with realisation, "No wonder I caught that vanilla scent; it was her all along! I knew it!" Joy radiated from him, his gaze fixed on her as he sipped his scotch, a satisfied smile illuminating his face.

Jason's focus shifted back to Christian, then to the opposite room, a furrow forming in his brow. "If your mate's here, then where's my Donna?" he asked, the eagerness almost palpable. Christian shrugged, his eyes remaining glued to his mate while muttering a distracted, "Beats me."

Suddenly, Christian bounded towards the window, scanning the dance floor for his own Donna. His gaze landed on her, swaying to the music, and he muttered under his breath, "Hold on—why the bloody hell is my Donna dancing like a true vixen on the floor?"

Meanwhile, Christian found himself completely transfixed, salivating over the sight of his mate perched beautifully while crossing her legs and scrolling through her phone. He mind-linked Arlo, "Good grief, she's unbelievably sexy!"

"Wrong, you dolt! It's not just about being sexy; it's about making love to her, you idiot! Because she's our mate, and we'll be making love to her until she's carrying our pups!" Arlo struck back, sending a barrage of cheeky images through their bond.

The onslaught of tantalising visuals sent Christian's desire soaring, each image making him grunt lowly, his trousers tightening ever so slightly.