Alec stood at the top of the grand staircase like a dark monarch, cloaked not in gold, but in raw dominance. The marble steps beneath his polished shoes glistened under the chandelier lights, and yet, somehow, they seemed to dim beside the sheer authority radiating off him. It was impossible to say what drew the eye more—the elegance of the architecture or the sheer, breath-stealing presence of Alec Blackwood.
His sharp voice sliced through the hall like thunder ripping across a silent sky.
“No need to bend down.”
The command was not spoken—it was declared, as if he had summoned lightning with his tongue.
Melissa jolted, her knees still slightly bent. For a second, she truly believed he could call the gods to earth if he wished it. That was the power in his tone. And in his eyes? There
