Alpha Damon's Substitute Luna
When he failed to find his fated human mate after seven years of searching, alpha Damon decides to abduct seventy-five young women from all over the city who fit within his Luna’s age range and description, to have them trained for his selection. What starts off as a competition for the alpha’s heart quickly turns to a bloody game of survival.
***
“What’s your name?” Damon asked, his voice clipped and cold. Though his eyes were narrowed, they were a bit mad around the edges.
The blonde woman in front of him traced a red coated fingertip over his tattooed chest, all the way to his slightly exposed pelvis. She smacked her lips at the obvious bulge in his tight pants.
“If you wanted a good time, why didn’t you just say so?” She threw a side long glance at the rest of the women cooped up in the cells, their fingers desperately grabbing the bars and yelling obscenities at the man who thought it was a good idea to abduct them for his personal reasons. “Why don’t we go somewhere private?” She added with a seductive wink.
The alpha’s patience wore thin but he remained calm.
“What.is.your.name?” He repeated with the slightest hint of annoyance. His eyes dipped to the card in her hand and she followed suit, smiling at the words on them; Luna 37. She rolled her eyes and tossed the paper aside. Did he seriously expect them to believe he was some alpha werewolf? Was that his play for getting laid? She scoffed at his silly roleplay antics. Werewolves were fictional but if that was what got him in the mood, she didn't mind playing along. He was definitely her type.
“The name is Tyla Woodley…”
He moved like a blur, snapping her neck like a twig. The other prisoners screamed at the top of their lungs as Tyla’s body thudded to the floor in a crumpled heap. Damon flexed his neck and arms before starting towards the cells. When he approached, all the women retreated, crying and screaming. He unlocked a cell and raked the women with his eyes. Shuffling forward, he yanked one out by the scruff of her neck.
“NO! Cleo! Let her go!” A wide-eyed woman screamed from another cell, banging the bars violently. “Let her go, you monstrous cunt! Fuck you! You hear me? FUCK YOU, DAMON WAYNE!”
He froze at the mention of his full name, and let go of the whimpering prisoner who crawled back into the open cell on all fours. Slowly, Damon advanced towards the rude woman’s cell but she didn’t back away like the others. She gripped the bars and spat in his face when he was standing in front of her.
“Couldn’t find yourself a Luna, tough guy? No surprise there. The moon goddess must not have been able to bring herself to torture an innocent woman with the tragic fate of being your Luna.”
Damon reined in the rage bubbling within him by gritting his teeth. This one wasn't as clueless as the dead one.
“What is your name?”
She knew he wanted her to mention the name on her card; Luna 91. He had just killed a prisoner who gave her actual name. However, he didn't hint at her card by looking at it. His eyes never left hers. She inhaled sharply. To hell with him. As long as her sister, Cleopatra, could remain safe long enough for them to figure out a way to escape from here, she didn't mind distracting the monster as long as she could.
“Luna 91, Asshole!”
He shot her a roguish grin. "Welcome to hell, Luna 91." He said before reaching beyond the bars and grabbing her neck amidst deafening screams.
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