Dominant Alpha’s Luna

Masked Emotions

CHAPTER FOUR

Alpha Andre paced his study after he had left the room. Something felt a bit off. He prided himself in being an excellent judge of character, but there was an inconsistency with the girl locked up in his room.

The other werewolves who had gone ahead to look for the healer had eventually returned, but they had failed to find her. For a moment, he had thought of Lyra as the healer but seeing how weak she appeared before him, he wasn’t sure anymore.

He remembered how he had left her, naked and trembling, her lips swollen from his kisses. She was one hell of a lovely female, and there was no harm in sampling the goods she had graciously offered him – but at that point, finding the healer was his outmost priority.

Once he gets to find the healer, he was going to give this weak female to his betas. An even more gruesome fate awaited her from the hands of his seemingly ruthless Betas who would stop at nothing to take away every ounce of pleasure that she had to offer.

For a moment, Andre allowed his mind to go down memory lane, down to a moment when he had not yet been so ruthless, when some people could even describe him as good. He had trusted people then, trusted all his domestic staff, only for his most trusted friend Landon to bring a curse upon himself, all because he wanted to gain dominance over the entire wolf clan which led to a massive wipeout in the entire city.

Andre and Landon were the best of friends, with dreams and ambitions to lead the most peaceful pack in the entire wolf clan until Landon decided to backstab him. Andre had no idea that Landon’s friendship was a shadow of what it is, as he was hungry to take over the leadership of the pack.

Landon’s quest for dominance over the wolf pack and the entire city led him to unleash the curse of the blood moon, which caused a massive wipeout in the entire city. That incidence led to Andre losing over half of his pack members, and almost costing him his life.

When Andre found that that it was Landon who had unleashed the curse of the blood moon upon the entire city, he had him banished from his pack. Even if the deserved punishment for Landon’s actions was execution, Andre couldn’t stand pronouncing death sentence upon someone he once called a friend, and so he banished him instead.

The curse had affected Andre’s pack so much that he had to search for the healer whom his seer had talked about who had the ability to take away pains, and is resistant to the blood moon curse. It was the reason he had sent his werewolves to look for her, but instead, a lovely little female who feigned innocence had been brought to him in a box, and according to his betas, she had climbed in there by herself.

Andre did not believe in coincidences. That little vixen had a mission to accomplish in his pack, and not only was he going to stop her from accomplishing it, he was going to find out what it was.

There was just a tiny little possibility that she was not a spy from an enemy pack. It was possible that she had been sent to find out secrets about his pack, and even though he enjoyed his reputation of cruelty, he couldn’t bring himself to punish her yet, not until she knew what exactly she had come to do in his pack.

He drew in a clear breath as he walked out of his study and into the open. He needed to clear his head, and for him, there was only one way to do that – the open air, and a female’s flesh.

******

Lyra’s eyes scanned the room a second time. This time, she did not focus on the sheer magnificence of the room, this time her eyes scanned escape routes. She noticed the high window again that overlooked the garden. Walking over to it, she stared outside – it was a good ten feet drop to the ground. Lyra decided against jumping. The flower trees were also too far from the window for her to hold on to their branches and climb down.

Her only option was to get out through the door, hopefully she would be able to outsmart the Alpha – as impossible as that sounded.

She needed a weapon. Dashing to his chest of drawers, she pulled the top drawer to open it, it was locked – the second and third were too. Lyra’s smiled as the fourth finally pulled open as she pulled on it.

With a franticness now, and a feeling that Andre would soon walk through the door, Lyra searched the room, not bothering to right the chairs she’d upset, or close doors she’d opened, until she saw it; It was hanging quite visibly beside the curtain, and Lyra wondered why she had not noticed it before – it blended well with the furniture though being an antique itself.

She let out a sigh of relief as she walked over to the window side and pulled out the sword from its scabbard. It was an antique sword, and according to the inscription on it, it belonged to the first ever Alpha of the Werewolf pack, Alpha Andre’s ancestor. It had probably been kept as a piece of furniture rather than a weapon, but Ari didn’t care, as long as it served her purposes.

She swung the sword around the air, noting it’s weight. How had the people in the olden days been able to fight wielding such! – but then, the sword had belonged to a Werewolf, and werewolves were known to be uncommonly strong.

She was still practicing how to use the sword best when the door swung open, and she found herself face to face with Alpha Andre.

He leaned against the door as his piercing grey eyes appraised her. There was a slight touch of humor in them, but also caution – was he afraid she could harm him? Maybe the sword had something in it that weakened the strength of werewolves.

With renewed confidence, she lifted the sword, so that the tip was pointing at the Alpha. Lyra had to fight the urge to support her sword with her other hand – the sword seemed impossibly heavy. “I demand that you let me go immediately.” She said, trying her best to inject as much confidence to her voice – it did not seem to be working.

“I see you’ve found the sword – it crossed my mind that you might think it useful, but then I also thought you weren’t the type –”

“Weren’t the type to what – if you come an inch closer, I promise I wouldn’t hesitate to use it.” The Alpha who had started towards her stopped in his tracks, and Lyra drew in a breath relieved.

He was smiling, and Lyra didn’t know what it was he found funny. His long dark hair was still as disheveled as ever. His black silk shirt was open at the throat, exposing the powerful cords of his neck, and his broad chest – Lyra had to remind herself to breathe.

“I want you to let me go this instant.” She said, as if reminding even herself about what she wanted. She wanted him to let her go, not to hold her in those arms of his and kiss her silly till she forgot how to think – where were these thoughts even coming from – she shook her head to free herself from the thoughts bugging her mind. “I want to go home.”

“Put down the sword Lyra.” Though his voice was gentle, it was a command.

Lyra shook her head, even though her arm screamed for her to put it down. The weight of the sword was already causing her hand to tremble visibly and giving into only half of the temptation she was facing, she supported her sword arm with her other hand.

The Alpha laughed, though it wasn’t unkind. He stepped closer to her and she moved backwards. “Put down the sword Lyra.” He tried again.

Lyra shook her head violently, and in spite of the screaming pain in her arm, she raised the sword even higher. “I would kill you with this thing – I promise you.”

The Alpha threw up his hands as though in surrender. “If I promise not to come closer, would you put down the weapon so that we can talk?”

Lyra shook her head. She didn’t understand what Alpha Andre was playing at, but she didn’t trust him. And why was he so bothered about the sword? Maybe she was right, and he appeared to be allergic to something in the sword – could the sword really hurt him, an Alpha – the Alpha?

She shook her head. “Not until you let me go.”