The Alpha I Was Meant to Kill

THE MEDIA CIRCUS

"Smile, little bird. The cameras are watching your every breath."

Julian’s deep, gravelly baritone vibrated right against the shell of my ear as the heavy door of the armored limousine slid upward. The sound of his voice was a low warning, a reminder of the dangerous game we were playing. Before I could even mentally prepare myself, the door opened completely, and a blinding wall of pure white light hit me like a physical blow.

Flashbulb after flashbulb exploded in my face. The noise was instantly deafening, a roaring tide of human and supernatural voices that made my eardrums throb. Dozens of reporters, aggressive paparazzi, and high-society journalists were packed tightly behind thick metal barricades, waving microphones and heavy digital cameras in the cool night air. They were practically climbing over each other just to get a glimpse of us.

"Alpha King! Julian! Look over here!"

"Who is the girl in the black dress, Julian? Is it true she’s just a human?"

"Give us a smile, Alpha! Look at the center camera, please!"

I felt a sudden, violent wave of panic rise in my chest, threatening to choke me. I had spent the last ten years of my life living like a shadow in the cracks of the city. I was used to dusty, empty training rooms, dark alleyways, and hidden corners where no one could see me. Being suddenly thrust into the absolute center of a massive media circus was terrifying. My body instinctively went rigid, my muscles locking up, and my breathing turned shallow and ragged.

Before my legs could betray me and take a step backward into the safety of the dark car, Julian’s massive, warm hand slid around my waist. His touch was firm, undeniable, and heavy. He pulled me sharply against his side, tucking my hip flush against his large, muscular thigh. The intense heat of his body seeped right through the fabric of my dress, instantly grounding my panicked senses. To the flashing cameras, it looked like a romantic, protective embrace. To me, it was a golden handcuff keeping me from running away.

"Relax, Evangeline," Julian whispered under his breath, his lips barely moving as he forced a smooth, charming smile for the media. "This is just a show. Touch my chest, look up at me like I hung the stars in the sky, and just keep walking. I won't let you fall."

I swallowed my pride, forcing the rising bile down my throat. I had a mission to complete. Thomas’s words from the radio disc rang loud and clear in my mind: Make him trust you. Smile at him. Use this fake romance to get close to him. If I couldn't poison him at the breakfast table, I had to outsmart him in the open. I needed to find a way to get his master security codes, and to do that, I had to be the perfect, submissive fiancée.

I reached up, pressing my gloved palm flat against the crisp, expensive fabric of his black tuxedo jacket. I could feel the steady, powerful thumping of his heart beneath my fingers, regular and strong, like a machine. I tilted my head back, forcing a bright, wide, adoring smile onto my face. I stared up into his sharp, handsome face as if he were the only man in the world.

In reality, my mind was busy calculating exactly how deep I would have to drive a silver needle between his ribs to pierce his heart.

But the crowd didn't know that. Julian looked down at me, his amber eyes softening with a fake look of pure, melting devotion that was so utterly convincing it made my stomach churn. He paused on the red carpet, leaning down slowly to press a soft, lingering kiss right against my forehead. The crowd of reporters went absolutely wild, the flashes multiplying until my eyes ached with white spots.

He guided me up the grand red carpet steps of the Grand Opera House, flanked by eight massive pack guards who used their sheer size to push the aggressive media back behind the ropes. We finally passed through the golden double doors of the venue, escaping the cold wind and entering the high-society charity auction.

The interior of the building was magnificent, a playground for the wealthy and the dangerous. The grand hall was filled with glittering ice sculptures carved like howling wolves, rivers of expensive champagne flowing from silver fountains, and the wealthy elite of the supernatural underworld. Women in gowns that cost small fortunes and men in tailored suits stood in small circles.

But the very moment our feet crossed the threshold, the loud chatter of the crowd died down to a sharp, tense whisper.

Every single head in the room turned to look at us. The silence was heavy, thick with judgement and curiosity.

More importantly, they turned to look at me.

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. The air in the ballroom was thick and heavy, charged with the oppressive, suffocating pheromones of powerful supernatural lords. Vampires in expensive silk suits stood with their arms crossed, their pale skin glowing under the chandeliers. Rogue Lycan alphas from neighboring territories stood with wide stances, their noses twitching as they tried to catch my scent. They were all staring at me like I was a piece of meat left out in a cage of starving lions. A fragile, defenseless human girl standing next to the most ruthless king in the city. I could feel their dark, hungry gazes tracking the lines of my body, silently calculating how easy it would be to snap my neck just to see Julian bleed.

"Don't look at them," Julian murmured, his grip on my waist tightening until it was almost painful. The casual, playful tone he usually used to mock me was completely gone. His jaw was clenched so tight that a sharp muscle twitched in his cheek, a dangerous, feral edge returning to his stance. "Keep your eyes on me, Evangeline. Only me."

"They want to tear me apart, Julian," I whispered back, my fake smile straining as we walked toward the cordoned-off VIP section near the front stage. "I can feel it. They look at me like I'm a target."

"They won't touch a single hair on your head," Julian growled softly, his amber eyes darkening to a deep, threatening orange as he swept his gaze across the room like a king threatening a rebellion. Every single supernatural lord who met his eyes instantly looked away, lowering their heads in a biological instinct of fear. "They know that if a single one of them steps toward you, I will rip their spine out through their throat before they can even blink. You belong to the Vance pack now. They know the rules."

We took our seats at a private, velvet-lined table near the front of the auction stage. Waiters instantly rushed forward, pouring glass after glass of dark amber champagne, but I didn't touch a single drop. After the poison incident at breakfast, I knew Julian was watching my hands, waiting for me to slip up. I couldn't risk looking suspicious.

The charity auction began shortly after. A man in a pristine white tuxedo stood on the stage, calling out bids for rare ancient artifacts, magical diamond jewelry, and historic pieces of real estate. Julian participated casually, barely looking at the stage, raising his hand to buy a multi-million-dollar diamond necklace without even blinking an eye.

"For my beautiful bride-to-be," he said loudly, his voice carrying across the quiet room so the surrounding tables could hear every word. He stood up slightly, leaning over me to slide the heavy, freezing diamond necklace around my neck. His large, warm fingers brushed against my bare collarbone, sending an unwanted, highly annoying spark of electricity straight down my spine.

I forced a sweet, breathless laugh, leaning into his touch and touching the diamonds. "It’s beautiful, darling. Thank you. You spoil me."

But as the night went on, the heavy, predatory gazes from the back of the room didn't stop. Specifically, a large man with a deeply scarred face and a brutal, bloody aura was staring at me from across the room. He wore a heavy gold ring with a dark wolf crest that didn't belong to Julian’s pack.

He was a rival Lycan alpha. A man who hated Julian.

He raised his glass of whiskey to me from across the room, a sickening, wicked smirk spreading across his face. He slowly ran a thick, scarred finger across his own throat, making his intentions perfectly clear. He didn't care about Julian's warnings. He saw a massive, weak spot in the Alpha King's untouchable armor, and that weak spot was me. If he killed me, he would ruin Julian's reputation and prove the king couldn't protect his own mate.

I gripped the silk of my dress under the table, my knuckles turning white as I stared back at him. The media circus outside was just the beginning of the nightmare. I was officially trapped in a cage of monsters, and the sharks were already circling the golden bars, waiting for the blood to hit the water.

Julian’s hand slid over mine under the table, his fingers wrapping tightly around my cold hand. He had seen the rival alpha's threat.

"Let him try," Julian whispered, his eyes glowing a dangerous crimson in the dark. "Tomorrow, the real war begins."