Conquered By The Blind Alpha

When He Says "Mine"

The air shifts the moment Winter fully enters the kitchen, violence crackling around him so thick I can almost taste it on my tongue. His presence swallows the entire space, makes the large industrial kitchen feel suddenly small and suffocating.

He looks good.

The thought pisses me off immediately, but I can't stop my eyes from cataloging details I don't want to notice. Black dress shirt tucked into suit pants that hug his thighs in a way that should be illegal, showing off muscles that look strong and powerful. His shoulders are broad, perfectly built in a way that screams raw power rather than the vanity of a chronic gym rat. His hair is pulled back in that low ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame his face, and I wonder—foolishly, stupidly, momentarily—what those dark strands would feel like threaded through my fingers.

I shove that thought down so hard it hurts.

Rex stays exactly where he is, leaning against the counter near me with that same deliberate casualness, like Winter's fury is nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"I said step away from her." Winter's voice is death wrapped in silk and I find myself wondering how the hell he can tell we're standing so close. How does his blindness work exactly? Can he sense body heat? Hear our heartbeats? Smell the space between us?

"And I heard you," Rex drawls, that vicious smile spreading wider. "I'm just choosing not to obey."

Well, s**t.

I watch the power play unfold between them, fascinated despite myself, unnerved by the violence simmering just beneath the surface. And despite not wanting to give a single f**k about either of them, I find myself wanting to see how this plays out.

These two have history. Deep, complicated, violent history that's written in every line of tension between their bodies.

Winter's hands clench into fists at his sides, the movement controlled but promising destruction. "I gave you an order."

"You give everyone orders, Winter." Rex's tone loses some of its playfulness, goes sharp. "Doesn't mean they're worth following."

"You're testing my patience."

"I'm testing your control. There's a difference." Rex smirks, not moving even an inch away despite his eyes no longer being on me.

The tension becomes suffocating, pressing against my chest until I have to force myself to breathe normally. This isn't just about me anymore. This is something else, something older and more poisonous, and Rex seems to be enjoying every second of it while Winter looks so f*****g done from the rigid set of his jaw.

Winter takes a step forward, his entire body coiled tight with predatory intent.

Rex mirrors the movement, stepping away from me and suddenly they're circling each other like wolves preparing to tear throats out.

"Still trying to control everything and everyone?" Rex's voice drops, loses that playful edge completely. "How's that working out for you?"

"Better than your way," Winter grits out. "At least I build things instead of tearing them down."

"You build cages and call them kingdoms."

Winter moves.

The speed is inhuman, blinding. One second he's across the kitchen and the next he's slamming Rex against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. The sound echoes through the space, sharp and violent, and my pulse kicks up as I watch Winter's forearm press against Rex's throat.

Rex laughs even as he's pinned, the sound strained but genuinely amused. "There he is. The monster underneath all that civilized bullshit."

I step forward without thinking. "Stop."

The word comes out sharper than I intend and both men freeze.

Winter's head turns slightly toward me, his body still pinning Rex to the wall. His silver eyes are unfocused but I swear I can feel the weight of his attention like a physical thing.

"Go back to your room, Alle." His voice is cold, controlled, dangerous in its calm.

"No." The word snaps out of me before I can think better of it. Who the f**k does he think he is, ordering me around like he's my father or something?

Rex laughs again, the sound rough. "Oh, I really like her."

Winter's grip tightens and I watch his fingers dig into Rex's throat, see the way his cousin's face starts to change color. "Touch her again, talk to her again, breathe near her again, and I'll forget we share blood."

"You forgot that years ago, cousin," Rex manages to rasp out.

Something flashes across Winter's expression then at the sound of those words, but it's gone before I can identify it properly. He releases Rex with a violent shove that sends the blonde stumbling, then turns to face me fully.

His blind eyes somehow find mine and the intensity of his focus makes my breath catch in my throat despite every instinct screaming at me to look away.

"You want freedom to roam the estate? Fine." There's an edge to his voice now, rough and barely controlled. "But stay away from him."

"You don't give me orders, Matey Dearest," I shoot back, even as my traitorous body responds to his nearness. Heat slides through my skin like a torturous ache, burning as his scent hits my nostrils—earth and apples and something darker that makes my belly clench with unwanted need.

"I'm your mate and your Alpha." He takes another step forward, invading my space completely. "I give you whatever orders I want."

"I'm not your anything."

Winter closes the remaining distance between us and suddenly he's too close, his body heat overwhelming, his scent everywhere, and it's worse than Rex. Winter is spice, his scent burns down my throat like liquor, delicious, intoxicating and I hate that I don't hate it.

"Three weeks, flame. In three weeks, you'll be marked, bound, mine in every way that matters. You can fight it all you want. The outcome doesn't change."

The full moon.

His certainty, that absolute confidence in his voice, should enrage me. Should make me want to claw his eyes out and prove him wrong.

Instead, heat pools low in my belly. My fingers tremble instead of staying clenched. My body betrays me completely, breaths coming heavy and unsteady while his remain perfectly controlled.

Fucking bastard.

He turns and walks out, every line of his body radiating barely leashed fury, and I'm left standing there feeling like I've been burned from the inside out.

Rex straightens his shirt, still grinning despite the angry red marks blooming on his throat. "Well. That was fun."

I finally find my voice again. "Does he always throw you into walls?"

"Only when he's feeling affectionate." Rex rubs his throat, wincing slightly. "Last time he broke three ribs and a collarbone."

"Sounds healthy."

"We're a very functional family."

The sarcasm in his tone almost makes me smile. Almost.

Rex gives me one last assessing look, then heads for the door. "Sleep well, darling. Tomorrow should be interesting."

Then he's gone too, leaving me alone in the destroyed kitchen with a cracked wall and my racing heart.

Not racing from fear.

From the way Winter looked at me—possessive, hungry, absolute. From the way his voice dropped to something dark and promising when he said "mine."

I touch my neck where his mark will supposedly go in three weeks, fingers pressing against the pulse point that's beating too fast. Something twists in my chest. Grief for Clarisse, sharp and constant. Rage at Winter for everything he's taken. And something else.

Something I refuse to name.

"Over my dead body," I whisper to the empty kitchen.

But even I don't believe it anymore.

The truth settles over me heavy and unwelcome. I won't die without killing him first. And he won't let me die without marking me.

One way or another, this ends with both of us bleeding.

I just have to make sure I'm the one left standing when it does.