Alpha's Chosen Mate

4

I barely hear the words she says. I’m trying to get her scent out of my nostrils—it’s too sweet. It awakens a primal hunger inside me, the worst kind. It’s a scent that promises forbidden pleasures and a taste of the enemy’s daughter, and I’ll be damned if I can’t resist this temptation.

“How long have you been watching me?”

I lean in, because I can’t stop myself. I feel her muscles tighten when my skin brushes against hers. The contact goes straight to my d**k, and I stifle a growl. “Six years.”

For six years, I watched Mardoc Stone, Christian Anderson, and Leilani Stone. It’s a shame that Ken Anderson died of an illness before my plans began, but I suppose it’s only fair that his son bears the weight of my vengeance. He was, after all, the one who pulled the trigger—alongside Mardoc.

She rears back, hazel eyes searching mine, and after a moment, she huffs a laugh. I pause at the sight of a dimple in her left cheek. “You’re joking.” Moving forward, she trips on the train of her dress, and her wrist snaps forward to find purchase. Her fingers tighten around my arm as she holds on tightly. “Sorry,” she murmurs, pulling me down with surprising strength as she struggles to find her footing. “I can usually hold my alcohol.”

When her slender fingers press against my chest, I instinctively grab her wrist. “You’re the first bride I’ve met who’s this drunk before the ceremony even starts.” I let go of her wrist. “Walk with me.”

She makes a face and murmurs something unintelligible to herself, but follows me anyway. Once we reach the balcony, she smiles up at me sweetly. I marvel at how easily the soft starlight cools her fiery amber eyes. “Tell you what.” She points through the window at the hunched old man who’s speaking to her father. “I get stuck with that if I follow through with this wedding. For a damn long time.” Scowling, her eyes return to mine. “You seem like the handsome prince who swoops in to whisk the bride away before she’s forced to marry an ogre. Get me out of here, and I’ll give you…” She pouts, thinking hard enough to hurt her pretty little head.

I chuckle. “You think I’m handsome?”

Her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, and her cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “If I said yes, would you take me away from here?”

My answering smile isn’t entirely fake. “Try a little harder, princess, and I might consider it.”

Disappointment dulls her bright amber gaze. “I have gold. How’s my weight in gold sound? Wads of cash in human currency? I could get you a truckload of it…” Her words trail off as she notices my watch and my gold cufflinks. After a beat of silence, she comes to the same realization anyone else would. I don’t need her gold or her money.

There’s only one thing I want, one thing I’ve lived for since my family was murdered, and I’m going to get it whether she helps me or not. The image of blood splattering onto the rug and drenching it with gore causes my blood to heat. My grip on her wrist tightens, making her flinch. I let my aura slip enough to permeate the space between us, and sweat breaks out on her forehead. “You have no idea who I am. It would be foolish to trade the demons you know for ones you don’t. Do you really want to take that gamble?”

I expect to smell the fear I see in her eyes, but her jaw only sets in determination. The next words that leave her red, taunting lips startle me. “Anything is better than this…pain. And I have nothing else to lose. Not anymore.”

I tilt my head, observing her carefully. “There’s always something to lose, and you’re sorely mistaken. I’m not your savior.”

Her eyes harden, and if it weren’t for the smell of alcohol and her flushed skin, I’d think she was sober. “In just one day, I lost my mate, my hopes, my future. Marrying Beta Manuel would mark the beginning of the end of my life. He’s had six chosen mates before me. They’re all buried six feet under. That’s the only way to escape him. Rumor has it he locked them up in his basement, beat them into submission, starved and chained them when they rebelled. I met Marilyn, the last one. She was only nineteen, already broken and a stepmother to fifteen men who constantly leered at her.” She shudders, disgust curling her upper lip. “I’d rather die than live like that. I’m a rebel. I always have been.”

I know that. She has no idea how much I know, how mistaken she is to think that I’m a lesser evil than the perverted beta she’s supposed to marry. I have chains in my dungeons with her name burned into them. I’ve sharpened daggers and swords for the sole purpose of tearing her father and mate limb from limb, but only after I’ve made her scream and suffer for as long as my sister did before she died.

My fingers find a stray strand of red hair and tuck it behind her ear. I wonder how easy it would be to break her delicate neck and toss her body into the fountain outside. My fingers inch down from her ear to her neck, and I feel her pulse, strong and fast. One move is all I need to kill her and get this over with.

But I hesitate. It’s the way she stares at me with big, hopeful eyes. With such childlike trust. She’s a sheltered, trusting fool. I don’t fault her for it. Unless you’ve been burned, you’d think fire was the most beautiful force of nature. You’d want to touch it with your bare hands.

Her breath hitches when my thumb brushes over her pulse, and I let myself look down at where her chest presses against mine. f**k, she’s stunning. Drustan, my wolf, yowls excitedly, and my teeth ache to sink into her succulent skin and mark her as mine.

I pause, startled by the destructive wave of emotion coursing through me. The desire to possess, to consume, to ruin this woman is a monstrous craving, a thirst that burns hotter than any inferno. I refuse to accept it. The Goddess wouldn’t punish me this way.

“What’ll it be then? I’m not asking for a savior. All I need is time. Buy me some time, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” Her voice is breathy, impatient, desperate.

“You won’t remember this conversation in the morning,” I murmur, the gears of my mind already shifting. I can always kill her later. “Or this.”

Bringing my lips dangerously close to hers, I grab the back of her neck and twist us so that we’re hidden in the corner of the balcony and her back is pressed against the wall. She gasps, the scent of her fear teasing my nostrils as she struggles against my hold. “W-what are you doing?”