WARNING: Dark themes, horror themes, horror romance, horror erotica, 18+. Everything in this book and series is make-believe, it is a sexual fantasy, hence erotica + horror as the subgenre / theme / setting. This is the premise. This does not mean I think this type of scenario is realistic or ideal, it's just a fantasy for you to enjoy safely like a thrilling movie etc. There are themes of degradation, BDSM and slavexmaster kinks (key word: KINKS ). This does not mean I endorse this shit IRL - it is just an over the top, delicious fantasy with deliciously demonic Lycans. If this does not sound right for you, please just skip. Do not read if you are under 18. Enjoy :)

It's hard to think straight while blind drunk. Tonight had barely begun and it was so foolishly dramatic already. I was almost falling over my own steps. And the scene was set. Virginity, a bright full moon, red street lights and shared red lip gloss. Once forever afraid that I'll be a virgin. Soon that fear is to be the last thing that'll ever cross my mind again.

"Silvia. To kick your clubbing journey off before college begins, we're going to the biggest, baddest club in town. Onyx!" my insane best friend, Carmen, is determined, "You're losing your virginity tonight!" she sing songs.

"W-What's Onyx? It sounds familiar?" I speak and almost trip, leaning into her side a bit heavier.

"The Lycan Nightclub, silly!" Carmen giggles, while holding me up.

But – A Lycan Nightclub? I pull back on her arm. T-that was the talk of nightmares. Of night terrors.

It was the place that every crime, of any kind, was ever committed.

Even as a joke – this was so whack!

"That's crazy, Carmen! No. Way. No. Fucking. W –"

"Does it terrify you, Silvy? That's the point, bitch! Everyone sneaks in to have a look, even if we don't do anything – it's fun to cross the point of no return – then we run after we've had a lil' glance!"

"...what is the point of no return?" I whisper, too drunk to see straight let alone walk straight.

I want to take a break on a bench before I barf, but Carmen keeps dragging me along – eyes set.

"You sign your life away at the entrance," she chuckles, smiling at me, "It's going to be so much fucking fun."

"Bullshit," I groan.

"No, seriously."

"Bullshit."

"No, seriously!" Carmen pumps her fist into the air, as if that will encourage me.

I roll my eyes. I'll entertain her.

"Fine. I have to see this for myself –" I give in.

"We're nearly there!" she squeals.

She takes me down a dreaded turn.

Marked and lined with broken fluro lights and blood stains on the alley walls.

Lane of the Damned.

Hardcore drugs, and every other unimaginable thing. Brothels. Literal Monster Houses. Witch Houses. Portals to Hell. Everything evil existed in this strip right here.

But – it's all a marketing ploy. It's not real. I mean, I try to convince myself of such.

My friend Carmen is a werewolf – far tamer than a Lycan.

Werewolves were a human's best friend. In most cases.

Lycans, on the other hand, were both rare and the villain of every story. Lycans were the monsters in the night you hoped to never encounter. They were ancient. They also played by their own rules. They were seriously immortal.

Vampires, were the second most nasty creatures around. Though they had a degree of humanity, they were shifty sly snakes as well.

Humans were in the mix of this city, including me!

Which kind of sucks right now, because I have no supernatural powers to protect me.

All I have is guaranteed eventual mortality. Eventual death. Not exactly a superpower.

Humans only thrived in this world with werewolves as their close companions.

Carmen was my best friend. For most of high school. And while I was shy, she was really coming out of her shell since high school ended last year. Now she was all about the booze, all about the boys. I wasn't too far behind – I was trying to fit in. I was desperate to not be left behind. Young adult problems.

I straighten my back and try to walk more confidently down the Lane of the fucking Damned.

Fairy quiet for this early time of night. 9:30pm.

Toward the middle, a door comes into view before a narrower alleyway appears shrouded in darkness, a side exit out of here. I take not to that – an escape route.

The Onyx Lycan Nightclub is a single black door with claw marks running down the length of the cursed wood. No windows. Not one.

It's an infamous sex club.

At the entry line is a form, by one of the early arrived bouncers. He's a vampire. A dodgey looking one, wearing a priest's robes as a costume. He smiles creepily as we approach.

I pick up the piece of paper first, interested in this contract Carmen mentioned.

My vision wobbles, then focuses with my interest.

Onyx Requirements.

No panties, dispose of them at the front.

Swallowing isn't optional.

If you die it's not our fucking fault.

Signed

Lycans of Dire Wolf City

Your signature

Blank space.

Hmm, very interesting. I look up from the contract to the club door.

The point of no return is marked on the floor with spray paint.

I thought I'd have the balls to peak in. But.

"Fuck no," I whisper to Carmen, and she grabs the pen off the bouncer rudely and immediately scribbles a fake signature, winking at the bouncer – before shoving me toward the door and opening it for me, pushing me in as hard as she can.

She stays on the other side, outside, laughing her head off – while I've tripped over my own jelly legs.

She could be rough. Werewolf friends were like over excited puppies in these adventurous times.

Now, I'm on my hands and knees in this death trap.

She's yelling through the door at me, "SIKE, Silvia! You're on your own! It's initiation into college! You have to survive five minutes in Onyx! Okay?" Carmen keeps yelling through the door obnoxiously, "Hint, hint – wink wink! Hide in the curtains if you get scared! Near the exit doors – wah!" I hear her get pulled away from the door by the vampire.

A comical growling match ensues.

I pick myself up, ankles wobbling at every moment of my journey to standing.

Light. Too much light. I hold up my hand to reduce the glare.

I look around the club, and it's not too scary.

Because the nightclub isn't fucking open yet.

No. One. Is. Here.

Except one Lycan.

The owner.

I assume this is Onyx.

A grey-silver coated Lycan.

He's behind the ginormous bar, polishing glasses with a dry cloth.

An 8-ft, wolf human hybrid.

Oh, my god.

I feel like a pipsqueak. A light snack.

Wolf fur lines all along his giant human torso, abs in full view. Below the waist – he's not wearing anything. Just naked. But I'm not looking that far down for more than a second.

His head is a vicious snarling wolf head, even while content and cleaning, looking down.

Me? Poor me. I'm drunk for the very first time, an 18-year old human female, stumbling on the spot, trying not to fall over again.

Yep, in slow motion, while it feels like ten minutes have passed.

Perhaps one lonely second has gone by.

Now Onyx has stopped cleaning his glasses, to look over the bar – straight at me.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong number – I mean wrong door," I stutter continuously, "Wrong. Good – early. Bye." What the fuck did I just say?

I turn into the door and go to open it.

It's locked.

Or jammed.

Why isn't it opening?

I pull on the handle. I push. Nothing.

Argh, no, shit!

Exit lights – corner of my vision.

I snap my head to the right and I see it.

The exit is next to the bar. Right n-next to – the 8ft furry Lycan.

Who I'm pretty sure, maybe-maybe not – might want to kill me.

What's more creepy is Onyx has not moved a muscle since freezing to stare at me – lips slightly pulled back over huge ass fangs. Fangs everywhere inside his fucking mouth.

Monster.

I had to walk past him.

I knew Lycans could talk, not just growl, snarl or howl. But that does not bring me any solace right now.

I force myself to stumble forward – and I find myself only being able to shuffle a few inches forward at a time, as I dare to look into his red glowing very still eyes, as I say, "I'll be honest, my f-friend shoved me in here as a joke – I – I didn't, well she wanted me to lose my vir – never mind, and she is waiting out and. I'm very truly really very much very sorry."

No word from the rare Lycan.

No movement.

Just his red fucking eyes.

Still as a standing fucking furry as fuck humanoid predator.

As I get closer. I just try not to wet myself.

"Me, go, and – me not come back," I try to sound more drunk than I am, hoping he really just lets me go.

But then. I hear a blood curdling scream. Behind me.

As I spin around in shock.

I'll never forget the colour.

Of fresh red blood – pooling.

Under the door. Faster. So much blood.

"Sil –!" Carmen huskily screams for me, then gets cut short. And I see more red.

"CARMEN!" I scream as I rush back to the door, banging on it, "Open the door!"

Silence from the other end.

I step back away from the blood before it touches my feet.

There's – there's too much blood.

Too much.

I can't stop staring at it.

At least a minute passes, where I'm traumatised looking at this pool of violence.

She's dead.

I know it.

Carmen's dead.

And the Lycan has snuck up right behind me.

Moving ungodly fast.

"Jokes get you killed," the Lycan drawls, every word laced with a wolves darker animalistic tone, easily one with the night, "...bravery gets you a second chance."

The Lycan is right behind me, and every hair stands on end with close words spoken far over my head.

As a monster shadows me, and I'm too afraid to look.

"Is my friend... really dead," I whisper at the floor, choking on my tears.

"From that amount of blood, I'd guess she has a small head wound."

A lie.

"I am leaving now," I say it, about to scream.

As I turn around for the exit, not to face the Lycan.

Onyx asks me, as I pause briefly, "What's your name?"

"Silvia. I'm g-going and I'm – I'm n-not c-coming b-back," I stutter at his furry feet.

At the corner of my eye, he tilts his head slowly to the other side, considering me.

But he lets me go.

My skin fucking crawls.

I'm in shock.

I walk to the exit.

As I haul open the heavy door, at the last second I hear the front open with Onyx's hand – and a snarling brawl ensues as he screams his rage at the bouncer.

I listen.

"WE DON'T DECAPITATE THE GUESTS. YOU FUCKED UP. YOU'RE FIRED."

D-d-decapitate?

When the exit slams closed behind me, his monstrous scream still fills my head.

I throw up everything in a pile of trash.

Carmen. My best friend.

Is dead.

And like a coward. As I rise back up. I run.

****

A time later

Trauma.

I'm drowning in it.

What the Lycan had said, of all things – is the only thing that gives me even a tiny bit of solace.

Bravery gets you a second chance.

I know he didn't mean it in terms of my friend being murdered.

I hadn't run yet when he said it.

But – regardless. I can't sleep, I can't study, and every therapy can't heal my sick twisted mind full of regret for running from that night. I had been too scared to look at Carmen's headless body. To even say a word to the police.

She was found an entire week later, dumped in-in a – in a river.

I had run home, buried myself in bed and basically tried to hide from it all.

At times, I read up on this shock that wouldn't leave my system. On everything I could find, self-help books, videos.

I had been too scared to say anything. To do anything. I didn't want them to hunt me next. But it still wasn't an excuse for abandoning Carmen, even in death.

I've turned into a true recluse. I've already been tempted to back out of college too before the full fees kick in.

But everything I think.

Nothing works to calm me as does this one thought.

I feel... like only one thing can help me.

I need.

To return.

I need to face what Carmen faced.

I felt like I had to put myself in a deadly situation.

It was an unhealthy, really bad way to cope.

But I didn't fucking care.

I had to do this.

I had to be punished.

To forgive myself.

So, I was booking in a private session. I wasn't going to tell anyone.

I do it on the computer. Going to the Onyx Lycan Nightclub website.

I fill out my form.

Private Encounter. Lycan. Choice: Onyx. Fee for the night: 4,000. Notes; Sign the Point of No Return. Refunds unavailable.

It seemed so simple checking these boxes – and paying the amount.

The date was booked in for next week.

The lightest, tiniest weight lifts off my chest.

And I know I'm doing the right thing.

I had to do this.

I wouldn't regret this.

I wouldn't eat those words right out of my ass.

I wouldn't!

Fuck. I think – whatever I need to – to help me sleep. Even for a short lucid nap.

I needed to find answers.