Alpha's Seductive Deception

Ch 4 - Hot & Hard

Emilia's breathing was ragged as she leaned against the Study door, trying to reclaim her composure. She turned to face Kael, who stood naked and supremely confident, watching her with silver eyes that held a triumphant glint.

"What were you doing?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "If you truly hold the Mate-Bond—if you are truly Liam—then why? Wasn't the bond supposed to be sacred?"

Kael moved with a lazy, predatory grace, stepping closer to the desk and leaning his large hands against the polished wood. "Sacred," he repeated, the word laced with arrogant contempt.

He straightened, meeting her furious gaze. "The old Liam may have treated it like a prayer, Emilia. That version of me—the one you remember—was weak. He let himself be killed." His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. "I was brought back. Reborn. I am a superior being with superior power, and my priorities are different."

He stepped closer. "I am the Alpha. My first priority is power and ensuring I remain fully potent. You, my Mate, spent the night fighting my dominance. You refused the final union. While you hide in your resistance, I maintain my command. I will take what I require, when I require it. I will do what seems fit to me when my Mate is running away from me."

His plain, brutal logic—the assertion that her refusal justified his actions—struck her with devastating force, igniting a new, hotter rage.

"You're disgusting," she spat. "You're a tyrant, and you're nothing like the man I loved."

"I am better," Kael purred, pushing off the desk and closing the distance between them. "And that is why I live, and he died."

He stopped directly in front of her, his potent arousal hard and demanding. The heat radiating off him, combined with the magnetic pull of the Mate-Bond, was intoxicating.

Driven by a sudden, reckless urge to seize back control, she took a slow, deliberate step closer. Her hand, trembling, reached out.

Her fingers closed around his manhood, the hot, demanding evidence of his arousal. She gripped him with a sudden, possessive confidence, her eyes locked on his.

"Is this," she asked, her voice dangerously low, trailing her thumb with a slow, searing caress, "is this what you want?"

A violent tremor ripped through Kael's frame. His silver eyes darkened instantly, contracting with shock and savage pleasure. He hissed, a sharp, barely contained sound that was pure wolf instinct.

"You play a dangerous game, little Mate," Kael grated out, his breath uneven. He gripped her wrist, not to stop her, but to ensure she couldn't pull away. "You think cruelty suits you. You are wrong. It suits me. And now, you will learn why I am called The revenant—I won't stop until I take all of you."

"No," Emilia whispered, fighting through the agonizing pain of the protesting Mate-Bond. "You take nothing that isn't freely given."

She snatched her hand back, the hot memory of him burning into her palm, and stumbled away from the devastating proximity.

"Enjoy your reign, Alpha," Emilia said, fighting to steady her voice and maintain her dignity. "But you will not use this bond to own me."

She ran for the door, tearing it open and fleeing the Study, leaving Kael standing naked, furious, and highly aroused in the desolate silence. Emilia ran not from him, but from the terrifying, undeniable knowledge that her body had already betrayed her.

~~~~~~~~~

Emilia ran until her lungs burned, fleeing the oppressive weight of the Pack House and the searing memory of Kael’s dominant touch. She found the only sanctuary she had left: her mother's home, where Anya was sitting by the hearth, the air thick with the comforting scent of herbs.

Anya instantly pushed aside her work when she saw the frantic desperation in Emilia’s eyes. "Emilia, what is it? Did he hurt you?"

"No. Not... physically," Emilia whispered, sinking onto a stool. "But he will break me. And you have to listen to me. He isn't Liam. He is not our Alpha."

Anya stiffened, her gaze hardening with a familiar pity. "We talked about this, dear. The trauma—"

"It's not trauma, it's truth!" Emilia cut her off, her voice laced with frantic certainty. "He openly confessed to the Pack that he wouldn't answer to the name Liam anymore! He demanded they call him Kael! He didn't even try to hide the change, Mother, he celebrated it!"

Anya frowned, but her eyes held a stubborn refusal to see the threat. "He was reborn, child. They call him The revenant. He has the right to mark the change, to shed the name of the man who died."

"No, it's a lie! I believe that's his real name—the name of the impostor who somehow forced himself onto the Mate-Bond!" Emilia pushed off the stool, pacing the small, familiar room. "Think about the changes! Liam was cautious and valued human alliance. Kael is cruel. He's already changed the Pack laws to tyranny—cutting off the village, hoarding supplies. Liam would never do that! They are not the same man, Mother. They cannot be the same person."

Anya slowly rose, embracing Emilia tightly. "Hush, my love. I hear your pain," Anya murmured, pulling back just enough to look into her daughter's eyes. "But you are trying to find logic in a miracle. They may call him Kael, and he may be harder and fiercer, but the core—the Mate-Bond—it does not lie."

Anya’s eyes locked onto Emilia's, demanding a final, terrible confirmation. "Tell me the truth, daughter. Did he not feel like Liam? Did he not carry the scent of your Mate? No imposter can steal that."

Emilia clenched her teeth, tears of frustrated rage slipping down her cheeks. She knew the law of the Pack was absolute.

"Yes," Emilia whispered, her voice broken. "I did. It's the same scent. But tainted. I hate him, Mother, but my body... my body recognizes him."

Anya's tense shoulders relaxed instantly. The worry vanished, replaced by triumphant relief and firm resolve. "There, then. It is only the shock. The Mate-Bond is the truth. Now, go back to your Alpha. You have duties, and you must not speak of him being an impostor, or you will be exiled."

Emilia realized with a sinking heart that she had found no ally. She was alone in this terrifying truth, forced to live under the tyrannical rule of the man who wore her dead Mate's face and carried his devastating scent.

~~~~~~

Emilia couldn't endure the paralyzing helplessness any longer. Her mother's rigid denial only solidified her isolation, and living under Kael's cold, triumphant gaze was suffocating. She needed proof—something tangible to fight the terrifying loyalty the Mate-Bond insisted upon.

She chose the dead of night, slipping out of her rooms while the Pack was deep in a sleep induced by celebration and alcohol. Her destination was the Pack Archives, a small, musty library tucked beneath the elders’ chambers, usually secured by heavy locks. Under Liam’s merciful rule, the lock had been symbolic; now, Kael’s tyranny had returned the archives to their true purpose—a vault for secrets.

To her surprise, the door was already ajar. Kael hadn’t bothered to lock it. It was a calculated display of confidence; he knew no one dared question him.

The air inside was thick with the scent of aged paper and decay. Emilia lit a small, shielded oil lamp and hurried to the section dealing with forbidden rituals and ancient Pack magic. She needed to know how the "resurrection" was achieved.

As she scanned the archaic titles, a terrible realization struck her. She paused, the lamp shaking in her hand.

The cave.

She had crawled out of the crypt, panicked and wounded, the moment Liam's body fell. She had felt the bond shatter, but she had never stayed to confirm the body. She had only seen the rival wolf standing over his collapsed form.

For a chilling moment, the carefully constructed wall of her conviction wavered. What if Mother was right? What if he was just wounded? What if the bond hadn't shattered, but merely snapped under the trauma?

She gripped the lamp, forcing herself to focus. No. The look in those silver eyes, the cruelty, the name Kael—it was too great a leap. That man was not the Liam she loved. She vigorously shook her head, pushing the dangerous doubt away. Find the ritual. Prove the impostor.

Her fingers brushed past a crumbling, leather-bound book titled The Lineages and Blood Bonds of the North Clan. A strange compulsion made her pull it out. Why look at family history when she needed resurrection rituals? She couldn't explain the pull, but she obeyed it.

Flipping through the dense, handwritten script, Emilia searched for the Blackwood Alpha Line. She found the page easily, noting the complex sigils and notes tracing the lineage back hundreds of years. She ran her finger down the list until she reached the section detailing Liam’s immediate family.

A faint frown creased her brow. The entry was strange. It named Liam directly, followed by a list of his achievements. But the entries for his parents were missing. There was no mention of Liam's father, the previous Alpha, nor his mother, the Luna.

Confused, Emilia tried to gently turn the page to see the preceding entry. That's when she saw it. The vellum page before Liam's name was ragged, not cleanly cut, but deliberately torn straight through, as if violently ripped from the binding decades ago. The ink marks where his parents should have been listed simply stopped at the tear.

Emilia frowned at the missing history. It was a curious absence—the Alpha line always traced father to son. But the archive was old and damaged. It's just a casualty of time, she decided, shrugging off the momentary intrigue. The Alpha line is secure, that's what matters. I need the rituals.

She closed the book, her mind returning to the pressing question of resurrection. The missing family history was unsettling, but she had a liar and a tyrant to expose.

Emilia had just put the old lineage book back, her mind still replaying the odd anomaly of the torn pages, when the air in the archives shifted. The scent, once stale and dusty, sharpened with the unmistakable, intoxicating tang of Kael.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. He was here.

She froze, her lamp illuminating the narrow aisle. The silence stretched, heavy and menacing.

Then, a low, smooth voice cut through the darkness. "Searching for secrets, little Mate?"

Kael emerged from the shadows at the far end of the aisle, a casual predator in his own domain. He wore only simple trousers, his bare chest rippling with muscle in the faint lamplight. His silver eyes gleamed, utterly devoid of surprise or anger, only a chilling, calm amusement. He knew. He always knew.

Emilia’s defiance flared. "I am searching for truth," she retorted, trying to keep her voice steady, despite the wild hammering of her heart and the frantic thrum of the Mate-Bond that urged her to drop to her knees.

Kael walked slowly toward her, his bare feet silent on the stone floor. "Truth is a malleable thing, Emilia. Especially when presented by someone as... persuasive as I am."

He stopped directly in front of her, his immense presence filling the cramped space. He reached out, his hand gently taking the oil lamp from her trembling fingers. His touch, though light, sent a jolt of unwanted awareness through her. He placed the lamp on a nearby shelf, plunging them into deeper shadows, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through a high, grimy window.

"Did you find anything interesting, Mate?" he murmured, his voice a silken whisper that seemed to wrap around her. "Perhaps a ritual that explains my... return?"

"You cannot be resurrected," Emilia spat, fighting for breath. "It's an impossible lie. And you are not Liam."

Kael chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated in her chest. "Impossible for Liam, perhaps. But I am not him. And as for the lie... the Pack believes it. Your mother believes it. And your own body, little Mate, betrays you with every beat of its heart."

He crowded her, pressing her back against a tall bookshelf. Her hands, still tingling from the residual heat of the lamp, instinctively flattened against the aged leather of the books, bracing herself. The Mate-Bond flared, demanding surrender, even as her mind screamed in protest.

"You were looking for proof that I am not Liam," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I sense you found something else. Something about the Blackwood lineage."

He leaned in, his powerful body caging her. His scent, the dangerous, intoxicating blend of cedar and steel, filled her lungs, cutting through her thoughts. "Tell me, Emilia. What did you find in the archives of my past?"

His silver eyes bored into hers, searching, probing. He wasn't just asserting dominance; he was asserting control over her very thoughts.

Emilia tried to look away, but his gaze was inescapable. She could not lie to the Alpha—not when he was so close, not with the Mate-Bond thrumming so powerfully between them.

"I found... a torn page," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "The entry before Liam’s name. His parents. It was ripped out."

A flicker of something—not anger, but a fleeting, unreadable expression—crossed Kael's face. It was gone in an instant, replaced by that cold, calculating amusement.

"Ah, yes. The missing generations," Kael murmured, a strange note in his voice. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "A shame. But some secrets are meant to stay buried, Mate. And some truths... are only for an Alpha to know."

His hands, warm and possessive, slid down her arms, pinning them to her sides, before moving to her hips, pulling her flush against his hard, naked form. Her traitorous body instantly responded to the contact, heat flaring low in her belly.

"You are here for truth, and I am here for what is mine," Kael whispered, his scent clouding her senses. "Perhaps we can achieve both. But know this, Emilia: every secret you uncover, every step you take to expose me, will only lead you closer to my truth. And closer to me."

His mouth hovered over hers, a silent, dominant promise. The air crackled with unspoken desire and raw power. He had caught her, cornered her, and now he was demanding not just her body, but her very will.