The Alpha I Was Meant to Kill

THE CRIMSON ALIBI

The heavy velvet curtains parted with a loud, aggressive rustle.

In a fraction of a second, my entire world turned upside down. I expected Julian to push me away, to yell for his guards, or to point at the ancestral silver blade sitting on the stone table. I braced myself for the cold metal of handcuffs and the brutal reality of my execution.

Instead, Julian moved like a shadow caught in a storm.

With a swift, fluid motion, he stepped sideways, using his massive, broad-shouldered frame to completely block the stone table—and my silver sword—from view. Before a scream could even form in my throat, his large hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers tangling fiercely in my hair. He pulled me forward, slamming my chest against his, and slammed his lips down onto mine.

My mind went completely blank.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a performative, scorching claim. It was an explosion of raw heat, dominance, and deliberate passion designed to look like a private tryst caught in the dark. Julian’s lips parted mine with a fierce, demanding hunger that took my breath away. The metallic taste of his own blood—from where I had broken his nose just moments ago—mingled between us, sharp and intoxicating.

I gasped against his mouth, intending to bite him, but he used the moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue rolling over mine with a possessive heat that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight down to my core. His other hand gripped my waist tightly, digging into the emerald silk of my dress, lifting me slightly off my feet to press me completely against his hard, unyielding body.

My hands, which had been ready to fight for my life, instinctively clutched at the lapels of his tuxedo just to stay upright. The world was spinning. The loud, overwhelming scent of rain, expensive cologne, and dark Alpha power filled my senses, drowning out my ability to think. I was supposed to hate him. I was supposed to kill him. But as his lips devoured mine, a terrifying wave of heat pooled in my lower stomach, making my knees turn to water.

"What in the world—"

A harsh, shocked voice shattered the spell.

Julian didn't break the kiss immediately. He took his time, lingering for a slow, agonizing second before lazily pulling his lips away from mine. He kept his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, pinning my side against his chest, refusing to let me take a single step away from him. I hid my face against his shoulder, my chest heaving, my lips tingling and swollen as I tried to catch my breath. I was trembling, completely breathless from a monster's touch.

I peeked through the strands of my hair to see who had entered.

Standing in the doorway of the balcony were three older men in pristine suits—Council Elders—accompanied by a dozen elite Lycan guards and a few high-society journalists holding digital cameras. Their faces were frozen in absolute shock. A few cameras flashed, recording the scandalous scene.

"Alpha King," Elder Vance, Julian’s own uncle, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me, then at Julian’s bloody nose. "What is the meaning of this? The High Council has been waiting for you inside to sign the commerce treaties. Your guards said you came out here for air, not to... defile a human servant in the dark."

The insult stung, but I kept my mouth shut. If I spoke, if I moved, they might look past Julian’s torso and see the silver blade resting right behind him.

Julian didn't flinch. He leaned back against the stone railing, his posture completely relaxed, yet the dominant, suffocating aura rolling off him spiked so high that several of the guards instinctively took a step back. He reached into his tuxedo pocket, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and casually wiped the blood from his lip, never once moving his body to expose the table.

"Defile a servant?" Julian’s baritone voice was smooth, cold, and dripping with dangerous amusement. He tightened his grip on my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. "Watch your tongue, Uncle. You are speaking to your future Queen."

The entire balcony went dead silent. You could hear the distant crashing of the waves against the cliffside.

My heart stopped. Future Queen? My head snapped up to look at him, my eyes wide with a mix of horror and confusion. What was he doing? Was he insane?

Elder Vance looked like he had just swallowed glass. "Your... Queen? Julian, you cannot be serious. She is a human. A nameless, insignificant human. The pack will never accept a fragile creature on the throne, let alone the High Council!"

"I am the Alpha King," Julian countered, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly pitch that vibrated through the stone floor. His amber eyes flashed a lethal, glowing crimson in the moonlight, a silent warning that he was on the verge of letting his inner beast out. "I do not ask for the Council's permission, nor do I care about the pack's approval. I choose my mate. And I have chosen her."

The journalists began whispering frantically, their fingers flying over their devices as they drafted the breaking news. The Alpha King, the most ruthless and elusive bachelor in the supernatural underworld, had just announced his engagement to a mysterious human woman in an emerald dress.

"But Julian, the protocols—" another Elder tried to argue, his voice shaking.

"The protocols state that the King's personal life is sovereign," Julian interrupted coldly. He glanced down at me, his expression softening into a fake, deeply convincing look of adoration that made my skin crawl. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my neck. "My fiancée became overwhelmed by the crowd inside. I brought her out here for some privacy. As you can see, we were... occupied. Now, clear the balcony. Before I lose my patience."

The threat was clear. If they didn't leave, Julian would tear them apart.

Elder Vance glared at me one last time, his eyes full of suspicion and hatred, before turning on his heel. "We will speak about this at the fortress, Julian. This madness will ruin the Vance name."

The Elders retreated, waving the journalists and guards back through the velvet curtains. The heavy glass doors slid shut, and the curtains fell back into place, plunging the balcony back into the quiet, shadowy night.

The moment we were alone, I violently shoved Julian away from me.

I stumbled back a few paces, my breath ragged, my hand flying up to touch my swollen lips. I felt dirty. I felt betrayed by my own body's reaction to him. I looked at the table, where my ancestral silver sword sat harmlessly in the moonlight. He had saved my life. But why?

"Are you insane?!" I yelled in a harsh whisper, glare-locking onto his amber eyes. "Why did you do that? Why didn't you hand me over to them? You could have had me executed!"

Julian didn't answer immediately. He turned around, picked up my silver sword from the table, and ran a finger down the flat of the blade. He didn't flinch as the metal hissed faintly against his skin. He slid the weapon into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket, hiding it completely.

Then, he turned back to me, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face.

"Hand you over?" Julian murmured, taking a slow, deliberate step toward me. I backed up until my shoulders hit the stone pillar again. He leaned in, trapping me with his arms on either side of my head. "And miss out on all the fun? No, little bird. Someone sent a legendary Justiciar to my gala to put a blade in my throat. If I handed you to the Council, they would kill you before I got my answers."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered the final, devastating trap.

"You wanted to get close to the king, Evangeline? Congratulations. You are now my fake fiancée. You are moving into the Obsidian Fortress with me tonight. And you are going to tell me exactly who paid you to start a war."