The Alpha I Was Meant to Kill

THE FIRST TERMS

The heavy oak door of the northern tower suite opened with a loud click.

Two massive Lycan guards stood on either side of the doorway, their expressions blank and rocky. They didn’t look at me as I stepped out into the dark stone hallway. They just stood there like statues, but the tense set of their shoulders told me they were ready to snap my neck if I made a wrong move.

"The Alpha King wants to see you in his study," the guard on the right said. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble. "Walk straight down the hall. Do not touch anything."

I didn’t say a word. I simply nodded, keeping my face completely blank.

I had spent the last hour washing the dirt from my skin and changing out of my ruined emerald silk dress. In the large walk-in closet, I had found rows of expensive clothes that were exactly my size. Julian had thought of everything. I had chosen a simple, long-sleeved black dress that felt comfortable and allowed me to move easily. I left my hair down, letting the dark strands fall over my shoulders.

But I wasn't completely defenseless.

As I walked down the long, winding stone corridors of the Obsidian Fortress, I reached up and subtly touched the thick, silver hairpin holding a section of my hair in place. To anyone else, it was just a beautiful piece of jewelry with a sharp point. But to me, it was a weapon. The tip of the hairpin was coated in a specialized, concentrated wolfsbane toxin that Thomas had given me months ago. It wasn't enough to kill an Alpha King, but it was enough to paralyze his muscles for an hour.

If I could get close enough to scratch his skin, I could run. I could escape this black stone prison.

The guard led me to the second floor, stopping in front of a pair of massive double doors made of dark wood. He knocked twice, and a deep baritone voice echoed from the other side.

"Come in."

The guard pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter. I stepped inside, and the door slammed shut behind me, the heavy lock clicking into place.

The private study was enormous, lit only by the warm, flickering glow of a massive fireplace. The walls were lined with thousands of old books, and a large, plush leather sofa sat in the center of the room. At the far end of the office, sitting behind a massive desk made of polished black wood, was Julian Vance.

He had changed out of his tuxedo. He now wore a simple, loose black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his thick, muscular forearms. He was looking over a stack of legal documents, a glass of dark amber whiskey sitting near his right hand.

When he looked up and saw me, his amber eyes flared with a sudden, intense heat. He slowly set his pen down, leaning back into his leather chair.

"You look much better in black, Evangeline," he murmured, his gaze traveling slowly down the length of my body before locking back onto my eyes. "Green is the color of an assassin. Black suits a queen."

"I am not your queen, Julian," I said, my voice cold as ice as I walked slowly toward his desk. I stopped a few feet away, crossing my arms. "And I want my sword back."

Julian let out a soft, low chuckle. He picked up his glass of whiskey, taking a slow sip while keeping his eyes locked onto mine. "Your silver needle is locked away in a safe that only my thumbprint can open. You won't be seeing it again anytime soon. Sit down."

He gestured to the leather chair across from his desk.

"I prefer to stand," I replied.

"Suit yourself," Julian said, setting his glass down with a soft click. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, his massive frame dominating the entire space. "Let’s talk about our terms, little bird. The media is currently losing its mind. The High Council is demanding answers. By noon tomorrow, the entire underworld will believe you are my future wife. We need to establish some rules."

"I have only one term," I said, stepping closer to the desk, letting my hands drop to my sides. "Tell me how you found out my name. Tell me how you knew who I was before I even drew my blade."

Julian smiled, a dangerous, wicked expression that made my pulse spike. "A king has his ways, Evangeline. Let’s just say that when a beautiful woman with no past and a scent like old ashes buys a ticket to the most exclusive gala in the city, it raises a few red flags. I did some digging. I found out you've been living like a shadow for ten years."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "But what I want to know is, who gave you the keys to my palace? Who is the ghost hiding behind your skirt?"

"I told you, no one sent me," I said, my voice rising slightly. I took another step forward, bringing myself right against the edge of his black wooden desk.

This was my chance. He was relaxed. He thought I was disarmed and helpless.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs, but I forced my muscles to relax. I reached up, pretending to nervously brush a strand of hair behind my ear. My fingers wrapped around the cold, heavy hilt of the silver hairpin. With a swift, practiced motion, I ripped it from my hair and lunged across the desk, driving the sharp, poisoned tip straight toward the exposed skin of his neck.

I was incredibly fast. But Julian was faster.

Before the tip of the hairpin could even graze his skin, Julian’s hand shot out like a striking cobra. His massive palm clamped around my wrist with terrifying force, stopping my attack completely. I gasped, the pain in my wrist making my fingers fly open. The silver hairpin dropped onto the polished wood of his desk with a sharp rattle.

"Again, Evangeline?" Julian growled, his voice dropping to a deep, primal pitch.

Before I could even try to pull back, he gripped my waist with his other hand and violently yanked me over the desk. I cried out in shock as my body slid across the smooth black wood, scattering his papers everywhere. In a split second, Julian stood up, spinning me around and pinning my back flat against the hard surface of his desk.

He leaned his entire heavy, muscular body over mine, trapping me completely. His large hands pinned my wrists down on either side of my head, his fingers locking into mine.

The breath was completely knocked out of my lungs. I glared up at him, my chest heaving violently against his. He was so heavy, so solid, it felt like being trapped beneath a boulder. His face was just inches from mine, his hot, ragged breath fanning across my lips. His amber eyes were no longer calm; they were glowing with a fierce, wild crimson that showed the true beast hiding beneath his skin.

The silence in the room became heavy, suffocating. The air felt thick, charged with an explosive, dangerous current of pure anger and undeniable s****l tension.

"You are a very naughty little bird," Julian growled, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his sharp cheek. He leaned down lower, his chest pressing hard against my breasts, making a soft moan of frustration escape my throat. "Do you think I'm an i***t? Do you think I didn't smell the wolfsbane on this little toy?"

He flicked his eyes down to the silver hairpin sitting on the desk next to my head, then locked his gaze back onto mine.

"I was trying to kill you," I spat, refusing to let him see how much his proximity was affecting me. My skin was tingling everywhere our bodies touched. The heat radiating from his torso was overwhelming, making my heart race for a completely different reason. "I will never stop trying to kill you, Julian. The moment you let your guard down, I will slide a blade into your throat."

Julian’s gaze darkened, his orange-crimson eyes tracking the frantic movement of my pulse point in my neck. He let out a low, gravelly sound that was half-growl, half-sigh. He slowly slid one of his hands down from my wrist, his large, warm fingers wrapping firmly around the nape of my neck, tilting my chin up.

"You talk big for someone who is completely at my mercy," he whispered, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. The touch was so light, so agonizingly teasing, that a shiver ran straight down to my thighs. "Look at you, Evangeline. You're shaking. Your heart is beating like it wants to burst out of your chest. Is that from hatred... or something else?"

"It’s hatred," I choked out, my voice trembling. I tried to pull my wrists free, but his grip was unyielding.

Julian leaned down even closer, his nose brushing against my cheek as he inhaled deeply, tasting my scent. "Lie to yourself all you want, little bird. But your body doesn't lie. You smell like fear, yes. But you also smell like desire. You want me to touch you just as much as you want to stab me."

"You're a monster," I whispered, my eyes burning with tears of absolute frustration.

"I am," he agreed softly, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin under my jawline, sending an electric shock through my entire nervous system. "And that's why you're going to stay right here, under my personal watch. You won't leave this fortress. You won't take a single step without my permission. You are going to play the part of my adoring fiancée until I uncover every single secret hiding in that pretty little head of yours."

He shifted his weight, his heavy, muscular thigh slotting firmly between my legs, forcing them apart over the edge of the desk. The friction of his trousers against my thin dress made a sudden gasp escape my lips. The s****l tension in the room was so thick it felt like heavy smoke, blinding my senses, making me forget for a terrifying second that this man was my enemy.

"We have a deal, Evangeline?" Julian murmured, his amber eyes burning into mine, waiting for my submission.

"I will never give you what you want," I whispered defiantly.

Julian smiled, a slow, dangerously beautiful expression. He leaned down, pressing his lips firmly against the soft skin of my neck, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark, making me whimper in the quiet room.

"We'll see about that, little bird," he whispered against my skin. "We have all the time in the world."