The Alpha I Was Meant to Kill

THE TASTE OF DANGER

The impossible window forced itself open.

One of Julian's advisors approached him, whispering something urgently into his ear. Julian's expression darkened, a flicker of irritation crossing his handsome features. He muttered a response, waved his guards away, and turned toward the back of the ballroom. He was heading toward the heavy velvet curtains that led to the private VIP balconies—the secluded area overlooking the sheer cliff side.

He was going alone to get some air.

This was it. My perfect, flawless window.

My blood turned to ice water. I set my champagne glass down on a nearby table. Pressing my hand subtly against my emerald fabric, I felt the solid, comforting weight of the silver sword strapped to my inner thigh. I stepped away from the table, slipping past the dancing couples as I tracked his path toward the heavy velvet curtains.

No one noticed me. I was just another beautiful face in a sea of wealthy socialites.

I pushed past the thick curtains, stepping out onto the stone balcony. The noise of the ballroom instantly vanished, replaced by the cool night wind and the distant crashing of the waves against the cliffs below. The balcony was bathed in deep shadows, lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through the clouds.

A tall figure was standing at the edge of the stone railing, his back to me, looking out over the dark ocean. Julian.

My breath hitched. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached down, my manicured nails hooking into the high slit of my emerald silk gown. I slid my hand up, my fingers brushing past the smooth skin of my bare thigh until they wrapped around the cold hilt of the silver blade.

I pulled it from the sheath. The metal didn't make a sound. It gleamed faintly in the moonlight, a slender needle of death.

I took one silent step forward, raising the blade, ready to strike him from behind.

Before I could take a second step, the air in the alcove violently shifted. The temperature seemed to drop instantly. A suffocating pressure wrapped around the balcony, carrying a rich, intoxicating scent that made my primal instincts scream: expensive cologne, fresh rain, and raw, terrifying power.

I didn't even see him move.

A towering shadow materialized behind me. Before I could turn, a broad, solid chest pressed flush against my back, trapping me completely against the stone railing. A massive, warm hand clamped over my wrist, freezing my blade in mid-air.

A low, gravelly baritone vibrated right through my spine, sending a wave of heat and terror through my body.

"A hidden sheath on a beautiful thigh, and a lethal blade gleaming in the light... Who exactly did you come here to kill, little bird?" Julian purred against my ear.

He tilted his head, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of my neck as he took a slow, deep inhale, sniffing me. I shuddered, a gasp trapped in my throat, as the damp heat of his tongue suddenly rolled across my pulse point right after his nose, tasting my skin.

Before I could even process the electricity of his touch, his other hand slid slowly past my knee, parting the slit of my green dress. His large palm was burning hot against my bare skin. He didn't stop. His hand slid higher, brushing past the leather strap of my weapon, reaching deeper into my dress to grab my waist, pulling my hips flush against his hard, unyielding frame.

His grip was impossibly tight, pinning me to him, his amber eyes burning down into mine in the shadows. He didn't look angry. He looked entirely, dangerously intoxicated.

"Now," Julian whispered, his lips brushing my earlobe as his grip tightened even more, making me gasp. "Are you going to try and use that pretty little toy on me, or am I going to have to punish you for bringing it to my palace?"

My lungs burned.

The heat radiating from Julian’s chest was immense, seeping through the thin emerald silk of my dress and scorching my bare back. I was completely pinned against the stone railing of the balcony, the freezing night wind whipping my hair across my face, but I couldn't feel the cold. All I could feel was the terrifying weight of him pressing me flat against the marble.

"Let go of me," I hissed, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the violent hammering of my heart.

I tried to twist my right wrist, but his grip was like a steel vise. The ancestral silver sword remained frozen in mid-air, a useless piece of gleaming metal just inches away from his throat. He didn't flinch. He didn't even tighten his hold to a painful degree; he simply possessed the absolute physical superiority to keep me exactly where he wanted me. I was a trained fighter, but against the Alpha King, I felt like a child trying to push away a mountain.

"Let you go?" Julian’s voice was a low, dark vibration against my ear. His chest rumbled against my shoulder blades with a dark amusement that made my blood boil. "When you went through so much trouble to find me alone, little bird? That would be terribly rude of me. A host must always accommodate his most... interesting guests."

His large hand, still firmly gripping my upper thigh beneath my dress, squeezed lightly. The heat of his bare palm against my bare skin felt like a branding iron. His thumb stroked a slow, deliberate line just above the leather strap of my sheath, sending an unwelcome, electric jolt straight up my spine. My breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping my lips before I could stop it. I hated how my body reacted to him. He was a monster. He was the enemy. He was the man who had ordered my world to burn, yet the primal, dominant aura rolling off him was trying to force my knees to buckle.

"You don't know who I am," I lied, swallowing hard and trying to force the empty, naive tone of a frightened high-society socialite into my voice. I let my shoulder tremble. "I—I lost my way looking for the restroom. This knife is just for personal protection. The city is dangerous for a human woman. Please, you're hurting me."

Julian went completely still. For a single, agonizing second, I thought he might actually buy the act. I thought I could fool the king of monsters.

Then, he let out a soft, mocking laugh that cut through the sound of the crashing waves below. He tilted his head down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin beneath my jawline, making me shiver violently.

"A knife?" he murmured, his breath hot and intoxicating against my neck, smelling faintly of rich bourbon and dark secrets. "Sweetheart, I can smell the pure silver from twenty paces away. It smells like ozone, old blood, and a total death wish. And this isn't a knife. It’s a Justiciar's needle. I haven't seen a blade forged with this specific alloy since the Cross estate burned to the ground ten years ago."

My blood turned to absolute ice.

He knew. He knew exactly what the blade was. He knew about my family. He wasn't just guessing; he recognized the signature steel of the bloodline he had wiped out.

A surge of pure, unadulterated adrenaline washed over me, erasing my fear and replacing it with a desperate, wild rage. Ten years of grief, ten years of nightmares, ten years of bleeding on gym mats under Elder Thomas’s ruthless training all came rushing to the surface. I wasn't going to die like a lamb in a slaughterhouse. I was a Justiciar. If I was going down tonight, I was going to take a piece of him with me.

Using his close proximity against him, I threw my weight backward, slamming the back of my head fiercely into his nose.

Crack.

The impact jarred my skull, sending a blinding flash of white light across my vision, but it worked. Julian let out a sharp, surprised grunt, his grip on my wrist loosening for a fraction of a second. It was all the window I needed. I ripped my wrist free, spun around in his embrace, and brought the silver blade down in a vicious downward arc aimed straight for his collarbone.

Julian reacted with terrifying supernatural speed. Even with his head ringing, he threw his arm up, catching my forearm just before the silver touched his skin. The sheer force of our collision created a gust of wind that whipped the velvet curtains behind us.

I didn't stop. I used my left leg to sweep his ankles, trying to throw him off balance. Julian caught on instantly, stepping over my leg and using his massive weight to press me flat against the stone pillar of the balcony.

The silver blade was trapped between our bodies now, the cold metal pressing dangerously against my own ribs as he held me down. I glared up at him, my chest heaving, my teeth bared like a wild animal.

In the pale moonlight, I could see his face clearly for the first time. A small trickle of dark crimson blood was flowing from his nose where I had struck him, smudging across his sharp upper lip. But he wasn't angry. He didn't look like he wanted to tear my throat out. Instead, his amber eyes were glowing with a fierce, terrifying brightness. A slow, wicked smirk spread across his sharp jawline. He looked alive. He looked like an apex predator that had finally found a prey worth hunting.

"Fierce," Julian purred, his gaze dropping to my lips before locking back onto my eyes. "You have a lot of fight in you for a fragile human. I haven't had to bleed at a party in decades."

"I am going to rip your heart out," I whispered, my voice dripping with venom, my knuckles aching from how hard I was fighting his hold.

"You're welcome to try," he replied softly, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper that vibrated in my chest. He leaned his body heavier against mine, trapping my legs with his own muscular thighs, completely paralyzing my lower half. His hand slid back down the slit of my gown, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of my silver sword right over my own hand. "But if you're going to kill a king, little bird, you shouldn't hesitate. You had your chance when my back was turned. Why didn't you strike the moment you stepped onto the balcony?"

Because I had panicked. Because the sheer, oppressive power of his presence had frozen my muscles before I could even process it. But I would rather swallow glass than admit that to him.

"I wanted you to see my face when you died," I spat, staring defiantly into his glowing amber eyes. "I wanted you to know exactly whose bloodline was ending your pathetic life."

Julian’s eyes darkened, the amber turning to a deep, burning orange. The dominant, alpha pressure in the air spiked, heavy and suffocating, making my knees feel weak even while supported by his frame. He squeezed my hand, forcing my fingers to relax one by one until the silver sword slipped out of my grip. It didn't hit the floor; Julian caught the hilt effortlessly with his other hand, tossing it onto a nearby stone table with a loud, metallic clatter.

I was completely disarmed. My weapon, my only leverage, was gone.

Before I could even attempt to strike him with my bare hands, Julian grabbed both of my wrists in one massive palm and pinned them securely above my head against the cold marble pillar. He stepped even deeper into my space, his heavy, muscular thighs slotting perfectly between my legs, forcing them apart beneath the silk of my dress.