The Alpha's Softest Weakness

Bianca's POV Three blocks back, a pure-blood vampire had caught my scent on the night air and decided I was a stain that needed scrubbing out. He moved faster than I could track, faster than I could run. His blade found my ribs before I found the fire escape. I got away because he tripped on a loose grate and I didn't look back. Now I was bleeding through my fingers and the only light for a mile came from a neon sign shaped like a wolf's head. The door stuck when I shoved it. I put my shoulder into the wood and it gave with a wet scrape that vibrated up my arm. Heat hit me first, thick and close, carrying the smell of spilled beer, hot metal, and motor oil. Then the noise. Voices layered over the low thump of bass that pulsed through the floor. My left side burned where the cut still leaked. Warm blood soaked through my shirt and stuck the fabric to my skin. I kept one hand pressed hard against my ribs and tried not to look like I was dying. Neon signs threw red and blue light across chrome handlebars and black leather jackets. Men turned. Women stopped mid-laugh. Under the beer and oil I caught the sharp animal scent that made my teeth ache. Wolf. Chrome Wolves territory. I had heard the stories. They did not forgive vampire blood on their land. I took two steps before a chair scraped back hard enough to tip and clatter. "You lost, sweetheart?" I didn't answer. My eyes stayed on the sticky floor while I calculated the distance to the rear exit. Too far. Too many bodies. Blood still seeped between my fingers, warm and slow. A bigger man stepped into my path. Broad shoulders. Dark hair pushed back. Jaw set hard. His eyes locked on the blood soaking through my shirt, and I watched his nostrils flare as he took in the scent. "You're dripping on my floor." I lifted my chin. The movement pulled at the cut and sent a fresh pulse of heat down my side. "Sorry. I'll be gone in a minute." He didn't move. The room had gone quiet. Someone killed the music. The sudden absence of bass left my ears ringing. The smell of wolf grew stronger. The man in front of me inhaled once, slow. His face changed. Rage came first, tightening the muscles around his eyes. Then something hotter and uglier. "Vampire." The word landed like a slap. I felt every pair of eyes dig into me. My side throbbed. "Half," I said. My voice came out steadier than I expected. "Only half. I'm not here for trouble." He closed the space between us in two strides. One large hand closed around my wrist. The second our skin touched, something electric shot up my arm and into my chest. Heat and static and a pull so sharp it almost dropped me. His grip tightened hard enough to bruise, fingers digging into the soft underside of my wrist. His eyes widened for half a second. Then the rage returned. "You walked into the wrong bar," he said, voice low and rough. "Chrome Wolves territory. We don't serve your kind." I tried to pull free. He didn't let go. The contact kept sparking under my skin. The cut in my side sent a sharp cramp through my torso, and I locked my knees to keep from folding. "I didn't know. I just needed somewhere to stop bleeding." "You knew." His thumb pressed against my wrist. "That scent doesn't lie. Full or half, you're still one of them." A man at the nearest table stood. "Jax. Want me to take her out back?" Jax. He didn't look away from me. The gold in his eyes caught the neon. "No. She's mine to deal with." I laughed once, short and ugly. The sound scraped my throat and pulled at the wound, sending another hot pulse of blood between my fingers. "I'm not yours. I'm leaving." He yanked me closer. The spark flared again. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. The smell of him filled my nose, leather and steel and wolf. His nostrils flared. He felt it too, and he hated it. "You don't walk out of here. Not after you brought that blood into my place." I met his stare. The cut throbbed and I could feel warmth spreading lower, soaking into my jeans. "Your family got killed by vampires. That it? You going to finish the job on the first half-blood who limps through the door?" His free hand shot out and gripped my jaw, forcing my face up. Rough calluses scraped my skin. I hated how my body reacted, heat climbing my neck, breath catching. I hated the way his eyes dropped to my mouth for one unguarded second before the fury took over. "You don't get to talk about my family." "Then let go." Someone called out, "She's bleeding all over the floor, Alpha. Finish it or chain her." Jax's jaw flexed. He looked at the blood on my shirt, then at where his fingers still dug into my wrist. The spark kept jumping between us. I saw the moment he decided. His shoulders set. He spun me around and shoved me toward the wall. My back hit the wood hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. The impact sent a fresh wave of pain through my side and I felt blood gush against my palm. His forearm pressed across my collarbone, pinning me there. The heat of his body blocked every exit. "You're not walking out," he said, voice dropping into a growl. "You're staying right here where I can see you." I shoved at his arm. It didn't move. The movement sent another pulse of blood through my fingers and my vision swam for half a second. "You can't keep me." "Watch me." His face was inches from mine. I saw the gold flecks in his eyes and the tension in his neck. I smelled the metallic edge of my own blood mixed with his scent. The electric pull kept getting stronger. "I'm not your prisoner." He leaned in until his mouth nearly brushed my ear. His breath was warm. "You are now." The words landed like a claim. The bar stayed silent. My side throbbed. Blood still seeped between my fingers. The spark refused to die, and I could feel my pulse weakening, the wound taking more from me than I wanted to admit. I had spent years running from pure-bloods who called me an abomination. Now I was pinned by a wolf who looked at me with the same disgust. The only difference was the electric pull humming under my skin. Jax's grip shifted. One hand still pinned me. The other closed around my upper arm, hard enough to bruise. My knees buckled slightly. "Move," he ordered. I stayed where I was. "Or what?" His eyes flashed gold. "Or I carry you. And I won't be gentle." I believed him. The bar watched. The neon lights hummed. Somewhere outside a motorcycle engine coughed to life and faded down the road. My pulse beat thin and fast against his grip, and the wound in my side burned. I had run from one set of monsters only to land in the hands of another. The worst part was the part of me that didn't want the contact to end even while every instinct screamed to fight. The cut sent a sharp cramp through my torso, and I couldn't hide the wince. Jax pulled me off the wall and toward the back hallway. His voice stayed low, meant only for me. "Welcome to the pack, half-blood. You're not leaving until I say so."