The Alpha I Was Meant to Kill

BETWEEN SILVER AND HIS BREATH

The position was incredibly intimate, incredibly exposed. I could feel every hard line of his torso, the warmth of his breath, and the sheer size of him enveloping me in the dark alcove.

"Let's try this again, without the toys," Julian murmured, his face inches from mine. I could smell the faint scent of rain and ozone on his skin, mixed with the metallic tang of his own blood. "Who sent you here tonight? Was it the High Council? Or was it one of the rogue packs trying to break the treaty?"

"Go to hell," I choked out, refusing to give him anything. I braced myself for the pain, expecting him to break my wrists or wrap his hands around my throat. That was what monsters did. That was what Elder Thomas had warned me about.

Instead, Julian leaned in even closer, his lips almost brushing against mine as he spoke. "You have an incredibly sweet scent, Evangeline. Like lilies and spring rain. But underneath the flowers and the expensive perfume, you smell like old ashes. You smell like revenge. It’s an intoxicating mix, really."

My breath caught. My entire body went rigid. He knows my name. How could he possibly know my name? I had been living as a ghost for a decade. My identity was completely wiped from every database in the city. Thomas had given me fake papers, a fake history. To the world, I didn't exist.

"How do you know who I am?" I whispered, a tear of pure frustration and helplessness gathering in the corner of my eye. I hated how powerless I felt against him. I hated how his proximity was making my head spin, blurring the line between terror and a strange, terrifying heat.

Julian’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, an unreadable, deep emotion crossing his handsome features. He lowered his head, his lips trailing slowly down my cheek, avoiding the tear, until they reached the sensitive corner of my jaw. He didn't bite. He didn't use his fangs. He just pressed his warm lips against my skin in a slow, possessive gesture that felt entirely too intimate for an assassin and her target.

"I know everything that happens in my city, little bird," he whispered against my skin, sending a wave of goosebumps down my neck. "And I certainly know when a beautiful ghost enters my ballroom carrying a weapon meant for my heart."

I clamped my jaw shut, staring past his broad shoulder at the dark velvet curtains. I was waiting for the blow to fall. I was waiting for him to call his guards, to drag me down to the Obsidian Fortress dungeons, to lock me in silver chains and torture me until I betrayed Thomas. I had failed. My family would never be avenged. I had thrown away my life for nothing.

Julian watched my silence, a slow, dangerous smile returning to his face as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. "Stubborn. I like that. A lesser woman would be begging for her life by now. But you... you're still looking for a way to bite me, aren't you?"

His hand released my wrists, but before I could drop my arms to strike him, his large fingers wrapped firmly around the nape of my neck, his thumb caressing my pulse point, which was still beating wildly like a trapped bird. He tilted my head back, forcing me to look at him. He leaned down, his hot breath fanning over my lips. The s****l tension between us was so thick it felt like heavy smoke, suffocating and blinding. I could feel the hard, unyielding line of his body pressed against mine, a silent reminder of his absolute control over the situation.

"If you won't talk to me here," Julian whispered, his thumb pressing just a fraction harder against my pulse, making a wave of heat pool in my lower stomach. "Then I guess I'll just have to take you somewhere more... private. Somewhere we can take our time uncovering all your little secrets."

Just as the words left his mouth, a sharp, heavy sound shattered the quiet sanctuary of the balcony.

Rattle.

The heavy glass doors leading from the VIP lounge to the balcony vibrated violently. Loud, angry voices echoed from the other side of the thick velvet curtains, drowning out the distant sound of the ballroom music.

"Alpha King! Julian! Are you out there?" a voice boomed. It was a harsh, older voice, filled with political arrogance.

My heart stopped. It was the Council elders. And right behind them, I could hear the heavy, synchronized footsteps of Julian's own security detail. They were looking for him.

If those curtains were pulled back right now, they wouldn't just see the Alpha King. They would see me—a human woman pinned against a pillar, with an ancestral silver blade sitting openly on the stone table just a few feet away. Under the laws of the supernatural underworld, carrying pure silver into a peace summit was a declaration of war. It carried an automatic death penalty by public execution. Julian wouldn't even have to lift a finger; the Council would have me torn to pieces before the night was over, and Thomas’s entire network would be hunted down.

Julian’s head snapped toward the curtains, his amber eyes narrowing into dangerous, lethal slits as a dark, feral growl rumbled deep in his chest. The playful, seductive cat-and-mouse game was instantly gone. The king was back, and the true danger had arrived at the door.

He looked down at me, his grip on my neck tightening slightly, his mind working at an impossible speed. I braced myself. This was the moment he would hand me over. This was the moment he would expose me as a traitor and cement his political power.

The curtains began to twitch. A hand was reaching to pull them open.

"We're coming in, Alpha King," the voice warned, the glass door clicking open.

Julian looked at my terrified, wide eyes, then at the silver blade on the table. A wicked, unpredictable glint flashed in his eyes.

"Hold on tight, little bird," he muttered.