Alpha's Chosen Mate

7

Panic tightens my gut. “I’d rather die.”

His lips tilt into an amused smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. In a split second, his fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing with terrifying ease. My feet lift off the floor as the sound of my choking fills the room. The bones of my neck grind together. My lungs burn with the desperate need for air. Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I stare into his eyes. They’re shining with something dark, something akin to curiosity, like he wants to take me apart and claim my soul. “That can be arranged. Just say the word, and I’ll break your f*****g neck.”

I reach for him, scratching my fingers across his perfect face, desperate to hurt him in any way possible. My nails only scratch him, and the wounds heal immediately. “Y-you’re…a…dead…man,” I wheeze.

He squeezes harder, waiting for a response I won’t give him. I’m Leilani Stone. I’ll never plead. I’ll never beg a bastard like him for anything. He might as well kill me right now.

“Try again.”

“Go to hell,” I try to growl, but it comes out as a pathetic whimper when his hold tightens enough to make my sight go black. I can’t get a single breath in, and undiluted fear overwhelms me when I feel my muscles begin to weaken. The treacherous word climbs up my throat against my will. “Please.”

“Asher,” he adds. “Say it.”

A lone tear rolls down my cheek. “Please…Asher.”

For the briefest moment, something flickers in his eyes, an emotion I can’t place. His eyes widen a fraction and his hold loosens. I cough, choking on air, but he isn’t done with me yet.

“I have nothing against you, Leilani—not personally, at least. But you must understand that the sins of the father are often inherited by their children. You will atone for every hurt your father caused, and one day, when I decide it’s enough—when every member of this pack who bears the same scars decides it’s enough—maybe I’ll let you leave.” He drags his teeth across his bottom lip, and I despise how hot that makes me feel. “Or live.”

“Every hurt my father caused?” I ask incredulously, my voice gaining strength with every word. “Do you have any idea how many wolves we’ve lost to your cruelty?” I hate that my voice breaks just as much as I hate the tears pouring down my cheeks. “You attacked us unprovoked and Father fought back! What do I have to atone for? Miss me with that bullshit, you self-serving asshole!”

Asher scoffs. “You’re either clueless, or stupid.” With that, he drops me, and I fall hard on my ass. He’s out the door before I can gather myself enough to hurl curses at him.

With bruises hidden under the hem of my dress, I walk down the stairs. My heart thuds faster with each step closer to the sound of music—to the hall where my wedding to a man I don’t know will take place. I have such awful luck. To think that just yesterday, I was worried about waking up beside Beta Manuel every day. A funnier thought comes to mind, and I laugh a little.

I’d thought Beta Manuel was a monster, so I’d run right into the arms of the worst monster of them all.

I halt at the base of the stairs as more than a hundred pairs of eyes stare back at me, some with contempt, others with curiosity. I recognize no one, but it’s awfully clear that they know me, and I’m not welcome here.

Swallowing, I wipe my sweaty palms against my velvet green dress. Under normal circumstances, I would find it gorgeous. Hell, I hadn’t recognized myself when I looked in the mirror, but I’d been too overwhelmed by the turn my life has taken to appreciate Enya’s work on me.

A movement in the corner catches my eye, and I look up from my dress to find Asher striding toward me. The sight of him feels like a fist around my heart, and I’m suddenly breathless for all the wrong reasons.

His green velvet tux—a perfect match for my dress—hugs every inch of his body, accentuating his broad shoulders and towering build. Even in a room filled with hundreds of people, he still stands out. It’s not his height, even though he’s at least six foot seven inches. It’s just him: the beastly aura he exudes as he walks, his arresting beauty, carnality honed to perfection. It’s unsettling that I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s been hardly forty-eight hours since I slept in Christian’s bed, yet I cannot rip my gaze away from this stranger.

A few strands of his slicked-back black hair fall over his forehead, and my fingers twitch to brush them back into place. I get lost in his eyes. Maybe that’s why I don’t notice how close he is until he raises his hand. “Come.”

I don’t. I stare and stare at it, considering what taking his hand would mean. My gaze drifts to the center of the hall, where an elder in robes waits to officiate the rites and join us—to doom me to an eternity of this. Of him.

Reluctantly, my gaze returns to my groom and his waiting hand. Between us, there’s a wall of sizzling, angry energy. It’s a mixture of hate and violence brewing… and something else, I realize as his gaze skims from my curls, to the pendant he had Enya put on me—an heirloom of some sorts. His eyes drift farther down, taking in each curve and dip of my body, and for a moment, I think his gaze heats. “We don’t have all night, princess.”

I swallow, my fingers suddenly cold. “I…I can’t…”

A guard shoves me roughly and I trip, falling into Asher for support. His arm encircles my waist, righting me. I try to push away from him, but he pulls me tighter into his embrace. “Do not test my patience. Whether you want this or not, it will happen.” He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, and the gentleness of his touch frightens me. “It is inconceivable that I let you go.”

Asher caresses the arch of my ear and despite myself, I shudder. “You, Leilani Stone,” he murmurs intimately, sending shivers down my spine, “might just be the winning card I haven’t played yet. But don’t mistake your worth for power. This game…” His eyes flare, the blue depths turning storm-tossed. “Is mine. And by extension, so are you.” He leans in, and I stifle a gasp when his lips brush the top of my ear. “In the grand scheme of things, you’re nothing but a tool for vengeance. You’re just Mardoc’s weakness.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. “I’m not going to be your wife.”

“So you keep saying, though I fail to recall giving you a choice. Resist,” he whispers, and my skin tingles with awareness, “and we’ll do this the hard way.”

He lets go of my waist, and adrenaline bursts into my veins, switching on my fight or flight response. I make a run for it. I swear I hear his startled laugh as I sprint across the hall, diving into the crowd to lose him.

I don’t make it very far before large hands grab me and lift me off the ground like I weigh nothing. I shriek as Asher drags me to the center of the room by my wrist, almost dislocating my arm. “Let me go!”

The guests laugh at me. They toast to my distress. They sneer at me, ignoring my yells and struggles as I’m brought back to the epicenter of my destruction.

The elder clears his throat. “Every union blessed by the⁠—”

Asher’s snarl ripples through the hall. “Quit the dramatics, Baron, and begin the damned ritual.”

An old dagger is drawn as the light of the full moon spills through the windows and Asher forces my wrist forward. My skin stings as the blade cuts deep and true into my palm. The elder repeats the same action on Asher’s palm, and when our wounds touch, I stop struggling. Warmth spreads through me, intoxicating and euphoric. Sighing in temporary bliss, I look into Asher’s eyes and find him watching me with wonder.

I am suddenly hyperaware of his proximity. He is impossibly close, his delectable scent clouding my senses. His lips look so soft from this angle. He’s staring at my mouth, too. I suck in my bottom lip. I don’t know why I do it. I’m being controlled by a force too strong to fight. It pulls me toward Asher, and him toward me.

The elder is speaking, but neither of us hears a single word. A voice inside me urges me to claim what is mine. I give in to it, rising onto my tiptoes, and even then, Asher is much too tall for me to reach.