STARLIGHT PROMISE:"Bound to the Lycan"

CHAPTER FOUR

AMORA'S POV
  
                   
                       I knew it was a bad idea the moment I stepped inside the casino. The place reeked of danger, and every instinct I had screamed at me to turn around and leave. But what choice did I have? My dad had sent me, his usual sneer plastered on his face as he shoved the crumpled bills into my hand. He didn't care that I was underage, didn't care that I was too young to be in a place like this. All he cared about was his whiskey, and I was the one who had to get it for him. If I didn't, I knew there would be hell to pay. He had made that much clear with the hard glint in his eyes, the one that promised punishment if I didn't come back with his precious alcohol.

The moment I walked in, the casino's atmosphere hit me like a freight train—overwhelming and oppressive. It was loud, the sound of clinking glasses and the drone of slot machines merging into a disorienting hum. Smoke hung in the air, thick and suffocating, wrapping itself around me like a noose. The people were worse, though. They were a rough-looking crowd, the kind you'd expect to see in a mobster movie. Hard faces, cold eyes, and smiles that didn't reach those eyes. They all looked like they belonged here, like this was their world. And I was an intruder, a lamb who had wandered into a den of wolves.

I kept my head down as I made my way to the bar, hoping that if I didn't make eye contact, I could get in and out without drawing too much attention. But even as I tried to shrink into myself, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, that someone had already marked me the moment I stepped inside. My hands trembled as I handed over the money to the bartender, my nerves getting the best of me. I shouldn't have been here, I knew that. It was illegal for me to buy alcohol, and if anyone found out, I could be in serious trouble. But the thought of going home empty-handed, of facing my dad's wrath, was worse than the fear of getting caught.

As I waited for the bartender to return with the whiskey, that uneasy feeling grew stronger, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I glanced around, my heart thudding in my chest like a trapped bird. That's when I saw him. He was standing across the room, towering over everyone else, his dark, piercing eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. He was striking, with a presence that was impossible to ignore—dangerous, magnetic, and utterly terrifying all at once. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that made me feel like he could see right through me, like he knew every thought running through my head.

For a moment, I couldn't tear my eyes away from him, captivated by the sheer force of his gaze. But then I remembered where I was, remembered what I was supposed to be doing, and forced myself to look away. I couldn't afford to get distracted, not here, not now. But as soon as I broke eye contact, I realized that my night was about to get a whole lot worse.

A group of men had sidled up to me while I wasn't paying attention, their presence sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through me. There were three of them, all wearing sleazy grins that made my skin crawl. They reeked of beer, the stench wafting off them in waves as they leaned in close, their eyes roving over me in a way that made me want to disappear.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the one closest to me drawled, his voice low and greasy. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?"

I tried to take a step back, to put some distance between us, but they closed in around me, cutting off any chance of escape. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of how badly this was going, of how stupid I had been to come here. My hands were trembling even more now, and I clenched them into fists, trying to steady myself, trying to think of a way out. But my mind was blank, the fear clawing at me, making it hard to think straight.

"Come on, don't be shy," another one of them said, his hand shooting out to grab my arm. His grip was rough, his fingers digging into my skin as he yanked me closer, and I had to bite back a cry of pain. "We'll show you a good time."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made the panic surge higher. I could feel my throat closing up, the terror threatening to choke me. I tried to pull away, but they were too strong, their hands like iron around my wrists. I was trapped, surrounded, and there was no way out. I wanted to scream, to shout for help, but the fear had stolen my voice, leaving me mute and helpless.

This couldn't be happening. Not like this. I needed to get out, to get away before things got worse, but they weren't letting me go. They were laughing now, low and cruel, as if they could already sense my defeat. My vision blurred with unshed tears, the reality of my situation crashing down on me like a tidal wave. I was powerless, and the only thing I could do was hope that someone would come to help me, that someone would see what was happening and step in before it was too late.

And then, just as the first tear slipped free, he appeared.

Out of nowhere, like a force of nature, he was there, moving so fast that the men didn't even have a chance to react. One moment they were leering at me, their hands holding me in place, and the next they were flying across the room, slammed into the walls with a force that made the entire casino go silent. He was standing in front of me now, his back to me, his shoulders tense with barely restrained fury. The air around him crackled with power, a dangerous energy that sent shivers down my spine.

For a moment, I couldn't do anything but stare at him, my mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened. He had saved me, protected me from those men without even breaking a sweat. But as the adrenaline began to fade, I realized that the danger wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

Because when he finally turned to face me, there was no relief in his eyes. No comfort. Only anger—cold, burning anger that made my stomach twist into knots. I had no idea who he was, or why he had stepped in, but I could tell that he wasn't happy about it. And I had a sinking feeling that whatever was about to happen next wasn't going to be good.

"You couldn't even protect yourself," he spat, his voice low and laced with disdain. "Pathetic."

The word hit me like a slap, and I flinched, my cheeks burning with humiliation. He didn't look at me like a savior, didn't treat me like someone worth saving. To him, I was just another weak human, another burden to be dealt with. And for some reason, that hurt more than anything else that had happened tonight.

Before I could say anything, before I could even process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, he turned to his companion—a man I hadn't even noticed until now. "Take her home," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And keep an eye on her."

The man nodded, stepping forward to take my arm, but I was too stunned to resist. My mind was reeling, my heart aching with a pain I didn't fully understand. This night had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye, and now I was being whisked away by a stranger, leaving behind the only man who had ever made me feel truly powerless.

But as I was led out of the casino, the neon lights fading into the distance, I couldn't help but glance back at him one last time, a part of me already knowing that this wouldn't be the last time our paths would cross. He might have saved me tonight, but something told me that our story was far from over.