The Alpha's Sin

Chapter 2: The Biggest Monster of Them All

SHE DID not knock.

Of course she did not.

She floated into my house like a pale ghost in silk and soft skin, unaware—or perhaps too aware — of what she was.

Of what she was becoming.

It started with a scent.

Soraya.

Soraya Duskbane — moons, that sounded right but so wrong at the same time.

I first noticed it when she stood in my doorway, her luggage in one hand, her heart still half-broken. Her fear had a sweetness to it then — mild, mortal, familiar. But tonight — tonight was different.

I could smell the shift.

Subtle at first. Then pervasive like the early smoke of an inevitable fire. It seemed to be attacking me from every front, relentless, brutal — all the things that I was made for, but completely weak when it came from her. I tried — so damn hard — to ignore it. But it was like trying to ignore the beat of your heart or the pulse inside your veins. You just could not. Impossible. It clung to her skin, settled in her hair, and dripped down her legs with every nervous clench of her thighs.

She was blooming.

Like flowers — smelled like them — moons, she was perfect.

Becoming.

And the Moon damn me to hell, because all I wanted to do was bury my face between her legs and tasted what fate had laid out before me like a curse. That Moon cursed a child — no, not a child anymore. The blooming flower — ripened and swollen and so ready for me. A curse that I had been trying to avoid for almost two decades. A millennia of reputation, of strength, of power could not face what was right in front of me.

She was just a girl. Small. Innocent. Perfect curly hair. Thick lips. Wide, doe eyes.

And here I was, clutching at every strength I got not to lose control.

~ ~ ~

When she finally left the study, the air she disturbed clung to my chest like a second skin. I found the air, but really, I had forgotten how to breathe — how to function altogether. It was like madness that had washed over me in one single second, brought to me by the swept of her lashes, the melodious sound of her voice, and the swell that could be seen from the flimsy nightgown she was wearing. The scent — I was sure — was the cause of everything that was happening to me.

She would drive me crazy.

The fire crackled.

The whiskey in my glass had gone untouched. Something inside me strained, and it was painful, aching, furious at the restrain I forced upon it.

She was not a child anymore.

And yet — it did not matter.

She was never supposed to be mine — not like this.

Not in this way — never.

But Moons, the bond was awakening—I groaned to the ceiling, breathing hard, sinking into the soft plush chair. My head was hurting, and my brain pounding inside. The bond was awakening and it was unstoppable. It knew no law, no boundaries, no morality — no f*****g mercy. It would not stop at anything, even if I begged and told it reasons.

Forbidden.

I leaned forward in my chair, pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes.

I should have never let her in.

I should have sent her away the moment her mother died. Let the state take her. Take care of her financially but never physically be there for her. Let the Wolves in the city chew her to pieces — for all I care.

It would have been — kinder.

Than staying here.

With me.

The biggest monster of them all.

And now, she breathed my air. Walked barefoot across my territory. Slept above me with nothing but a thin sheet between her body and the scent of the bond.

And I heard everything.

Every restless toss. Every whimper in the dark.

She did not know it yet.

But I did.

The bond whispered it to me like a blade drawn across my throat.

Mate.

My mate.

My stepdaughter — hell.

The Moon mocked me with the cruelty of it.

~ ~ ~

I did not sleep.

I paced the halls at night like a beast chained just short of slaughter. Restless. Stupid. Her door was closed, but her scent leaked out in ribbons — completely consuming me like it was going to be the end of me. I inhaled without meaning to. My body hummed. My vision wavered. I was in spasm. That was humiliating for someone like me.

She smelled like heat.

Fertility, the beast within me whispered. He knew what he wanted. Chasing after it.

Need.

It would not be long now. Not with the way the bond reacted to her. The symptoms had begun — her emotions turning volatile, her scent thickening, her dreams stirring, and her need growing. The cycle would complete itself.

And when it did, she would come into heat.

I would not be able to resist her.

Not when she begged.

Not when her thighs went slick and her voice broke and she cried for the one man — beast — who should have protected her from everything.

Me.

~ ~ ~

She found me the next morning. In the library once more.

A mistake.

My mistake.

Perhaps I wanted to be found — so I could have an excuse to stare at her.

She was barefoot again. Silver hair tumbling over her shoulder. Her robe clung too tightly at the waist, and I could see the curve of her everything through the thin cotton. Again, her scent hit me like a blow. I swallowed hard, feeling myself straining in less than one second.

I went still.

“I didn’t know you read poetry,” she said softly.

I should tell her to leave.

I should roar at her like the beast that I was. Bared my teeth. Snapped her spine with a single look.

Instead, I said, “Only the brutal kind.”

She walked closer. And I — a fool that I was — watched every step.

“I didn’t sleep much,” she murmured.

Her voice trembled.

“Your body is changing,” I said before I could stop myself. “You will sleep even less in the nights to come.”

She blinked. Those innocent doe eyes. “What do you mean?”

I stood on my feet.

Another mistake.

She was so small.

So human.

So perfectly built to be taken — every inch of her.

“Your mother didn’t tell you anything? Anything at all?”

“I don’t follow,” she frowned.

“She never told you a*********s — not about your bloodline?”

She shook her head, innocent and dumb and tragic and so Soraya. I strained harder at the thought of her name on my tongue.

“She never told me about her origin. Or mine. I don’t even know who my real father is.”

Of course she did not.

That woman feared what I would smell on her daughter.

Feared what it would become.

She played me — played us. A game that she knew from the start all along.

“You’re—“ the words were stuck in my throat. I stepped forward, battling the words in my head, and she did not back away. She never did. “You will come into heat soon,” I continued, knowing that I probably did not sound sane at all to her. “It’s inevitable. You have inherited it from your mother’s side — dormant until now.”

Her lips parted.

“Heat?”

She did not understand. Not yet. But her body did. Her thighs shifted. Her chest rose. Her heartbeat fluttered. I was so attuned to her every feeling, every change, and every emotion — the scent of something building inside of her. She was feeling it. I felt it through the bond like lightning beneath my skin.

“It’s a cycle,” I said, voice rough. “You will crave. Hunger. Burn.”

“For what?”

Me.

“Never mind,” I bit out. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“I think it is. Is it sickness?”

She stepped forward. I felt the pull in my bones. In my core. In my growing need, straining full against the fabric of my pants — losing my sanity. Killing me. She was close enough now that I could grab her wrist and pin her to the wall. Hear her gasp. Make her cry. And I knew she would let me. She wanted to let me. And it terrified her. “I don’t understand it. I don’t understand what is happening to me,” she whispered.

My breath was fire in my chest. So was hers. “It’s a sickness,” I said darkly, my voice was ominous. “One you will suffer because of your blood.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m sick?”

“You are.” I stared at her to chase her away. I stared at her the way I would stare at my prey.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said.

I was caught off guard.

You should be.

But instead of saying it, I lifted my hand. I brushed a finger down her cheek. She trembled. So did I. I traced the line of her jaw, the hollow of her throat. I stopped just above the swell of her chest. She did not move. She stayed.

“Icarus —” she breathed.

Then I turned, jaw clenched so tight my teeth cracked. I left the library. And for the first time in over a decade, I locked the door behind me.