Wicked lessons from the Alpha

Provoking him

*Faye*

Although it is long past midnight, I walk confidently along the dimly lit narrow corridor, my skirts rustling over the thick carpeting. I anticipate disapproval from those I will soon encounter, but their approval has never concerned me. They do as they please, when they please, with whomever they please. While they may not wish to associate with me, I am not giving them a choice tonight, or any night for that matter.

After all, they are men. And as I have recently discovered, a practiced smile accompanied by a flutter of the eyelashes can reduce even the most intelligent of them to mindless fools, easily swayed by a cunning she-wolf. However, my dilemma lies in the fact that I don't desire a man who can be easily controlled, nor do I want one who seeks to control me. I seek a life partner, someone who views me as an equal, regardless of what the law dictates.

Finally, I reach the door tucked away in the darkest corner. Against the thick mahogany, I deliver three sharp knocks, followed by a brief pause, and then two more knocks, the last set quicker than the first. A small door, positioned at eye level, creaks open within the larger door. A man peers out, his face concealed by the shadows. It wouldn't have surprised me if he were wearing a mask.

Secretive meetings always warrant grand theatrics.

"Only those who know the special word may pass through here," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling, as though auditioning for the role of an ogre in a child's fairytale.

Ah, the dramatics. Today is my birthday, and I have been granted permission to enter this realm of secrecy, so I know exactly how to gain access.

"Feagan."

Homage is paid to the kidsman, the former manager of the den of child thieves that once included my mother.

The oaf blocking my path grunts. With a clank, a lock is released, and he swings the door open, allowing me to glide through the narrow portal. He is a massive, hulking brute whom I have never encountered before.

His sheer size alone is likely to intimidate many, and his large, meaty fists would intimidate anyone else.

"I'll take you to the others..." he begins.

"No need."

I move forward, parting heavy velvet draperies that appear black in the absence of light, though I know they are a deep, rich burgundy. This section is adorned with sitting areas and tables, complete with decanters. However, no one is currently occupying the lounging area, indicating that the games haven't been going on long enough for anyone to have lost too many coins. I part another set of draperies and glide through...

"No! My Goddess, Faye, what are you doing here?" Lupo Tempest rises from his chair at a large round table covered in green baize. It's evident that the evening hasn't been going well for him, judging by his repeatedly tousled dark hair. Lupo manages the place, and I suspect he will eventually own it.

My eyes momentarily sting in the smoke-hazed room. Tables with more decanters line the walls, while red-liveried servants stand at the ready. A tall fellow starts moving towards me, but Lupo raises a hand to stop him.

"I have come to play," I state succinctly.

Beta Langdon, the son of the Alpha of Claybourne, groans and glares at me. "I'm not in the mood to lose tonight."

"Then surrender your chair and depart," I say. Knowing that Langdon will do neither, I signal to the nearest footman, whom I recognize from previous visits. Without hesitation, he brings me a chair, well aware of which side his bread is buttered on.

Amidst grumbling, three of the gentlemen at the table scoot over to make room for me. The fourth remains motionless, his hazel gaze fixed on me as if he can peer straight into my soul. His scrutiny creates an uncomfortable knot behind my breastbone. Dark curls frame his broad shoulders, and the shadow of stubble on his jawline gives him a dangerous air. I can't shake the unsettling feeling that he knows exactly why I'm here and the game I'm about to play.

"Hunter."

"This particular game is invitation only," he replies.

His rough voice washes over me, sending a shiver down my spine. Why is it that no other gentleman's voice affects me quite the same way?

"As my mother is a part-owner of this establishment, I believe the invitation is implied," I retort.

I settle into the chair, bringing us eye to eye, or close to it. I'm relieved to find him here, even though the men in this room are not so different from him. They play by their own set of rules. Jackets, waistcoats, and cravats are discarded. Sleeves are rolled up past elbows. I'm amazed they don't insist on playing shirtless. They are all skilled cheaters, shaped by a life influenced by the streets. They have grown up fascinated by cons, tricks, sleight of hand, and misdirection. Among the aristocracy, they are outliers, but among themselves... regardless of title, rank, or heritage... they are equals.

Well, almost equals. I have always believed Hunter is in a league of his own. Now, taking a closer look, I can't help but notice the firm muscles of his forearms, hinting at strength elsewhere. I suspect he could easily lift me with little effort. Not that I want him to. All I want is for him to guide me toward love.

"How did you know we were here?" inquires the Alpha of Riverdale.

I shift my attention to the sandy-haired, blue-eyed man sitting beside me. Like Hunter, he inherited his title at a young age. His connection to my family comes through his mother's marriage to Bill Grimley, one of Blackrock City's esteemed physicians. "None of you were present at Claybourne's ball. What else am I to think?" A moment of silence passes before I continue. "You do realize, don't you, that your absence breaks the hearts of many mothers... and daughters, for that matter?"

"There are plenty of Alphas in need of a mate. I'm certain we won't be missed," he replies.

"But none of them hail from as powerful and wealthy families as you all do," I remark, my gaze returning to Hunter.

Focusing his attention on the center of the table, he skillfully rolls a silver coin under and over his fingers, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. I wonder if he reminisces about attending balls, about experiencing the joy and magic of falling in love.

I desperately yearn for that joy, that magic. It was sorely absent last mating Season, and this mating Season has proven to be little more than a repetition of the last.

"You're not here to play matchmaker, are you?" Langdon asks. He possesses his father's black hair and silver eyes. Every Alpha of Claybourne has viewed the world through pewter-colored eyes.

I let out a light laugh. "No, I'm here to win your money. I need funds for one of the foundling homes."

The coin rolls faster over Hunter's fingers as he grumbles. "I would gladly make a donation if you would just leave us in peace."

I give him a cocky smile. "I would rather take your money." And if luck is on my side, I'll take much more than that. "It's so much fun to outsmart all of you, and I'm in need of entertainment tonight. The ball was rather dull, I must say."

"My mother will be disappointed to hear that," Langdon remarks.

"It's not her fault, I assure you," I retort, eyeing him. "I'm quite surprised she let you get away with not attending."

"I feigned illness."

"Well, she won't hear the truth from me, unless, of course, I find myself banished from here."

He nods slightly. "You may play as long as I have coins."

Considering that his father is also a part-owner of the full moon club, I suspect he has quite a few coins. I reach into my reticule, retrieve my deck of cards housed in a red velvet pouch, and place it before Lupo. He has grown up within the warmth of my family, more like a brother than a friend, yet he studies me now with a hint of suspicion.

I know I have a talent for appearing innocent when I am anything but. It's the reason why the blame for little pranks, usually initiated by me, always fell upon my two older brothers, while I went on merrily without consequence. I am the one who inherited our mother's quick mind and nimble fingers. My brothers inherited our father's cunning, and they always find a way to get back at me for causing them trouble. But as the youngest, they love me all the same. And I adore them.

As they are currently traveling the Continent, they will not be interfering with my plans. However, Lupo is a different story altogether.

He finally pushes a stack of colorful wooden chips my way. Leaning forward, I cup my hands around them and...

"You can't be serious about letting her stay," Hunter interjects.

"She's just as skilled a gambler as you are," Lupo replies. "And her money spends just as easily."

"If I desired a woman's company, I would seek one."

"Then pretend I'm simply one of the boys, Hunter," I interject. "You had no trouble doing that when I was younger."

His gaze leisurely travels over me, and I curse the tingling sensations that erupt along my exposed skin. I want to remain unaffected by his scrutiny, but shamelessly, I find myself yearning to reveal more, to expose everything, in hopes of seeing adoration in his eyes, even though I fear the possibility of revulsion. His late mate had been perfect. They had been the most handsome couple in all of the country.

He reaches for his tumbler of amber liquid, his grip so tight that I can see the white of his knuckles. "Fine," he grinds out. "But don't expect us to stop smoking, drinking, or swearing just because you're here."

I tilt my chin at a haughty angle. "Have I ever asked you to?" I glance around the table. "So, gentlemen, what game shall we play this evening?"

And with that, I begin rolling my kidskin glove down from above my elbow to my wrist, where my pulse beats steadily.