Dahlia
I learned two things about Roman Wolfe in the first twenty four hours.
One: The man was a snitch.
Two: I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him and I couldn't throw him at all. The bastard probably weighed twice what I did.
I stood in front of my father in his study, head lowered.
"Three attempts," Lucien barked. He stood behind his desk, hands braced on the woods, knuckles white. "Three attempts on your life in six months and you sneak out to a club without protection?"
"I had protection." I tilted my head toward Roman, who had positioned himself by the door like a statue. "Your attack dog found me just fine."
"Do not mock me," my father scolded.
"I'm not... You locked me down. You took away my friends, my freedom and for what? So I can sit in this house like a pretty prisoner until the next assassin finds me here instead?”
The slap landed on my cheeks so fast I didn't see it coming. I stumbled, catching myself on the edge of a bookshelf. The sting bloomed hot and I tasted cooper where my teeth had cut the inside of my mouth.
"I've spoiled you too much," my father said. His voice shook. "You risk your life for a few hours of dancing? Some cheap attention from strange wolves?"
You don't understand, I wanted to scream. You don't know what it's like inside my head. You don't know that if I stop moving, if I stop performing, if I stop being loud and reckless, and...
I'd fall apart.
I'd feel the weight of every expectation, every silent demand that I be perfect and poised and compliant and one night I'd wonder if anyone would notice if I just...
No.
I swallowed hard, shoving the thought down.
"You're right," I said instead, lifting my chin. My cheek throbbed. "Can I go to my room now?"
"Dahlia!"
I flinched at his tone.
He walked around the desk and stopped in front of me. For a moment I saw a man who used to carry me on his shoulders through the pack lands. The man who taught me to shift. The man who cried at my mother's Luna ceremony.
Then that man disappeared and the Alpha returned.
"You've been pushing back the engagement to Adrian Vale for two years," he said.
No. No. We were not talking about this again.
I stepped back and he grabbed my hand. "I've allowed it because I thought you needed time. You will prepare for the courtship. You will accept the proposal."
A shaky laugh escaped me.
"No." I refused, desperately. "I don't even love him."
"That is not important. Adrian Vale brings wealth, territory and protection. His pack is one of the strongest in the region. This union secures your future and the future of every wolf under my care."
Tears burned at the back of my eyes. But I refused to cry here. Not in front of the man who didn't even care about me.
"I can't..."
He glared at me. "I don't want to hear anything else from you, Dahlia. You are my daughter and you will do as I command."
My body trembled.
"Fine," I whispered.
Then I turned and walked out.
I heard the footsteps of Roman behind me. My hands clenched into fists. His presence was impossible to ignore even if he thought he wasn't saying anything or reaching for me... His presence alone made my blood boil.
I hated him. I hated him seeing me like this. I hated everything.
My steps slowed.
He wasn't expecting it as his chest collided with my back and I felt the impact ripple through both of us... His hand shot forward to catch me before I fell.
I spun around and shoved him.
He didn't move. Of course he didn't. I might as well have shoved a mountain.
"Leave me alone," I snapped. "Do you have to breathe down my neck every second?"
"Your life is in danger." He said calmly, pretending as if he cared whether I lived or not.
He continued. "Protecting you is my utmost priority."
I rolled my eyes.
"Liars... Give it a week and you'll quit. I promise you. You'll run back to whatever hole my father found you in and you'll never look at me again."
He was not the first bodyguard my father had hired. This was the fourth and each of them had quit because I was too much.
I bet this one might not even last a week.
His eyes narrowed. "You can try."
I gritted my teeth in anger.
Fuck him.
I ran to my room and the damned i***t screamed my name to stop.
I didn't. I unlocked my door and stepped inside. The moment the door closed, I pressed my back against the wood and slid down until I was sitting on the floor.
Then the tears came.
*****
The next morning, I had a plan.
First, I needed a shower. As the water ran down my body, the plan started to take form in my mind.
My heart raced.
If Roman wouldn't quit because I was difficult. He'd quit because I was irresistible.
Men like him, controlled, stoic, robotic, they didn't know what to do with a woman who didn't play by their rules.
I'd get under his skin. I'd make him want me so badly and when he slipped, when he broke, when he realized he couldn't keep his hands off his assignment, he would walk away in shame.
Brilliant!
This was absolutely insane.
I showered slowly, a smile on my face. When I stepped out, I didn't reach for my robe.
Instead, I wrapped a towel loosely around my body. One wrong move and everything would...
Exactly.
I took a breath. Then another.
Then I screamed and just like I thought, the door burst open three seconds later.
"Are you okay?"
Roman filled the doorway, eyes scanning for threats, his body set to attack. He had a knife in his hand.. where had that come from... And his expression was pure predator.
Then I slipped. So did the towel.
He moved. His free hands caught my elbow, steadying me. His body was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, could feel the pulse hammering in his throat.
His eyes moved down and his jaw tightened when he saw I was naked. His pupils dilated.
The knife in his hand lowered an inch. Then his eyes snapped to my face and something dangerous flickered across his features.
"Dahlia."