The bass thumped through Connor's house, vibrating the walls as Rhys Knight downed another shot of whiskey. The burn in his throat was a welcome distraction from the hollow ache that had settled in his chest since earlier that day. He couldn't understand why rejecting his supposed mate—that nerdy omega girl—left him feeling so... empty.
"This is bullshit," he muttered, slamming the glass down on the counter. His wolf was agitated, pacing restlessly inside him, and no amount of alcohol seemed to quiet it.
The party raged around him, bodies pressed together on the makeshift dance floor, the air thick with sweat and perfume. Normally, Rhys would have already picked out a girl to take home for the night, but tonight, the thought made his stomach turn.
"Looking lonely, Alpha." A sultry voice cut through his thoughts.
