Lara
My sentence died in my throat.
In a heartbeat, the little space between Ben and me—space I actually liked, despite his earlier manhandling—vanished.
His hands, which had been gripping the fabric of my dress, shot upward in a flash, wrapping around my throat. His nails lengthened, sharp and unnatural, and his eyes… they almost shifted color. Almost.
It was a cruel reminder—he wasn’t an Alpha. Only Alphas could change their eye color at will or when driven by strong emotion. Betas weren’t blessed—or cursed—like that. For them, it was as if the Moon Goddess had played a private joke: teasing them with the illusion of Alpha-like power, letting it flicker but never fully bloom.
Like she had with you.
The voice in my head decided this was the perfect moment to pounce. Right at death
