Penelope's POV
In just two seconds of eye contact, I could feel my fingertips trembling and burning. I knew every cell in my body was screaming, "I want that man." Zayn remained standing in place, motionless, but the way he looked at me was so aggressive, it felt as though his gaze alone could strip me bare.
He wanted me too.
Excitement, nervousness, fear—a storm of emotions too complex to process exploded in my chest. Before my rational mind could tell me what to do, instinct took over, and I fled like a deserter who had just spotted their general.
The hotel hallway stretched like a maze, the dim, suggestive lighting casting overlapping shadows that blurred my vision. I didn't know how long I had been walking when I finally stumbled upon an open, empty room. The moment I stepped inside, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees.
God, his presence was overwhelming… and yet so intoxicating.
I gasped for air, desperate to inhale something fresh to clear my head, but his scent clung to me, wrapping around me like an inescapable phantom. And whether it was my imagination or not, it seemed to grow stronger by the second.
Tap, tap, tap—
The sound of leather shoes against tile grew closer until, with a final click, the door shut behind me. I turned my head, frozen in shock.
It was Zayn King.
From a distance, I hadn't noticed, but up close, I could see how perfectly his suit hugged his broad shoulders and narrow waist, accentuating his flawless physique. I could almost imagine the firmness of his chest beneath that expensive fabric—it had to be hard to the touch. Zayn locked the door behind him, ignoring me on the floor as he strode to the sofa by the bed and sat down.
"Penelope Woods?" His voice was deep, laced with a reassuring authority, yet threaded with a husky desire I was too nervous to recognize at the time. Instead, I found myself lost in the intoxicating richness of his tone, like aged whiskey.
"Answer me." A command.
"Y...Yes?"
I stared dumbly at Zayn, suddenly noticing his eyes—hazel green, like secrets hidden in an ancient forest. He studied me with those sharp, piercing eyes for a few seconds before the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. Then, he spread his long, straight legs apart.
That was when I saw it—the unmistakable bulge of his desire.
Like a mountain.
I swallowed hard, feeling my already weak knees grow even weaker.
"Come here, or I'll fuck you right now." A command, a threat.
Maybe it was the overwhelming scent, or maybe the threat was too shocking to comprehend, but I obeyed like an obedient dog, crawling to his feet.
"Good girl." Zayn's hand gently cupped my face before trailing down my neck. "Now, tell me your name."
"Penelope Woods."
"Do you want me to claim you?" His index and middle fingers pressed between my breasts, rubbing in a slow, deliberate motion—like a mimicry of what was to come.
I trembled. "Yes..."
"Of course you do," Zayn murmured, his hand suddenly slipping between my legs. "You're already wet."
I looked down to find his hand beneath my skirt, fingers stroking over my damp panties. He even hooked a finger under the fabric, pulling it aside to trace slow, maddening circles at my entrance.
"Penelope Woods."
"Ah... Yes?" My breath hitched as wetness pooled under his touch.
"Do you want to be my Luna?"
"...Yes..."
"Such a good girl." Zayn's lips brushed my ear as he whispered coldly, "But you don't have a wolf."
The contrast was jarring—our bodies so close, our movements so intimate, yet his words were like ice, draining all warmth from me in an instant. I was frozen, unable to move.
"Without a wolf, how will you survive in battle? Without a wolf, how will you raise the next generation of the pack? And most importantly—" His voice dropped lower. "Without a wolf, how will you prove yourself worthy of being a Luna?"
Each question was a weight, pressing down on me until tears welled in my eyes.
Don't cry, Penelope. I dug my nails into my thigh, forcing the tears back. Then, I met Zayn's gaze and spoke in the steadiest voice I could muster: "I can do it."
No, I couldn't. But I wanted Zayn too badly, wanted to escape the Dark Wood Pack too desperately. I knew this was my only chance—if I let it slip, I'd lose him forever.
"Prove it." Without warning, Zayn thrust a finger inside me. A sharp cry tore from my throat as I collapsed against him.
"I... I can." I tried to push myself up, but he held me down. "What's this on your neck?"
"What?"
Thinking he meant the old scars I carried, I instinctively moved to cover them, but he snapped, "Don't move!"
Zayn's gaze burned into my neck like he was trying to carve through it. Fear locked me in place—something in his expression told me not to resist.
A minute passed. Or maybe an eternity. Finally, he spoke.
"I've changed my mind."
"What?" I whispered.
"I'll give you a chance." Zayn released me, tilting my chin up with one hand. "If you want to be my Luna, you'll need to prove your worth. Agreed?"
I stared into his hazel-green eyes, seeing my own reflection—full of longing and desperation. Pathetic.
"You don't need their approval." Zayn grabbed my hand and pressed it against his hardened length, his voice deliberate. "Just mine. So here's the deal: be my whore, and they'll call you Luna."
Desire flickered. The heat in my palm reminded me of Scott's sneering face.
He was right. What's the difference between me and a prostitute?
A person with dignity would've walked away. But I couldn't. I wanted this—wanted Zayn, wanted a mate, wanted a home. Even if it meant selling myself, I'd pay any price.
"Time's up. What's your—"
"I'll do it." The first time I'd ever interrupted anyone, but my voice didn't waver.
Zayn's eyes darkened. In one swift motion, he hauled me onto the bed, shedding his clothes—the tailored suit, the expensive belt. His mouth crashed against my neck, teeth scraping skin as he breathed me in. His hands roamed greedily, kneading my breasts with rough possessiveness.
"Fuck," he growled. "I'm going to ruin you."
I braced myself, my body rigid as stone. I'd fantasized about this moment, but now that it was here, all I felt was dread.
But Zayn was beyond noticing. He hiked up my skirt, bent my legs back, and ground against me, his cock slick and heavy.
I felt him—hard, insistent—pressing at my entrance, teasing like a thief testing the lock.
I shut my eyes and waited for the plunge.