Becoming Alpha Roan’s

Lena's POV "You can do this," I whispered to the frightened woman staring back at me in the fogged-up mirror. My eyes travelled to the small dagger resting on the marble countertop. Beside it was a vial of purple liquid, sparks of light swirling like stars in a galaxy. I had to move, I couldn't hold off on it much longer. But the thought of doing so made my insides twist . I turned back to my reflection to centre myself. Still frightened and wide-eyed. Alpha Gordon made it seem so easy when he went over the plan. Silly me thought it would be too, considering what I stood to gain when the dust settled. I could finally get out of that hellhole and save the only people I cared about in this sick, bitter world. All I had to do was take a man's life. "You can do this." I uncorked the vial and took the dagger by its cold hilt. It was made of silver, the fizzle of Alpha Gordon’s skin when he accidentally brushed his hand against it boasting of its purity. The liquid, on the other hand, was a concentrated poison. He hadn't bothered giving me a name, but I learned from his frequent ramblings that a single drop could take down five werewolves. Holding the weapon over the porcelain sink, I carefully coated the blade, tip to hilt. There was no room for error. Not when all I had to kill a Lycan was a dagger and a poison that might not work. A soft thud from beyond the door startled me, causing my grip on the vial to falter. "s**t!" It fell with a clatter, each echoing bounce against the ceramic, causing my heart to skip a beat. Desperate, I slammed my hand down on the bottle and silence returned. My eyes fleeted to the door, waiting for the man on the other side to burst in and catch me, red-handed. The seconds ticked by and the door remained shut. I sagged with relief then shoved the bottle in the layers of my white gown, folded up on a chair in the corner. "It's cool. You're cool," I cheered myself on as I slipped the dagger underneath my robe, and then tied the sash tight enough to hold it in place but not enough for it to accidentally nick me. If it could kill a shifter I'd hate to see what it would do to plain ol’ human me. I turned towards the door and took a deep breath in and out, preparing for what I was about to do. One mistake would mean my death, if not by the hands of the man in there, but by Alpha Gordon if I somehow made it back to him alive to report my failure. With a turn of the doorknob, the door gave way and I stepped into the large honeymoon suite. The lights were off but streaks of moonlight spilled in, making the darkness feel less suffocating. A shadow by the large desk on the opposite wall moved, catching my attention. My eyes met the glowing silvers of the man pronounced my mate and husband a few hours ago. Roan Bogomolov. The wolfless son of the Lycan King who had risen above his affliction and created his pack and empire so strong it pissed off a lot of older, powerful Alphas. One of them being mine. I had heard nothing but bad things about the man standing across the room. Death, destruction, and an unquenchable thirst for power are major themes. If he gave a s**t about disproving his infamy to his new wife it didn't show as he hadn't bothered showing up for our wedding, instead sending a proxy to say his vows. "Are you ready?" He asked, his low voice giving nothing of his emotions away. I nodded, then responded verbally when I remembered he did not have a wolf, and so could not see in the dark. "Yeah, Should I..." I waved awkwardly at the bed. "Go ahead." Nodding and then shaking my head in annoyance at my repeated mistake, I made my way over to the bed and slowly crawled into it. It was large and fluffy, sinking just right beneath my weight in a way my crappy threadbare mattress back at my even crappier apartment never could. I rested my head on the soft pillow, and my eyes slid shut as I took a deep breath in and opened them as I exhaled. I flinched when I caught sight of his shadow standing tall on the other side of the bed. Was I so scared that I missed him moving across the silent room? That wouldn't do. I needed all five senses in perfect control to get this done. He either didn't notice my reaction or didn't care as he untied the sash of his robe and allowed it to drop with a soft thud. I couldn't see anything, but one thing was sure: Roan was a large man who would tower over even the largest werewolf. His Lycan heritage was strong despite his lack of a wolf. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he drew closer, and I had to remind myself not to tense up when he settled on top of me. So close, he looked even bigger and far more intimidating But it didn't matter how big he was. Without a wolf, he was as defenseless as any human man. All I had to do was strike at the right moment. To him, I was the dutiful adopted daughter about to play a role she had been groomed from birth for, so I threw myself into the part. “Do you think you can mark me without a wolf..." My words were cut short when his lips suddenly pressed against mine, a large hand settling on the dip of my waist, dangerously close to where the dagger was. I placed my hand over his to stop them from wandering and moved my lips against his to distract him from the action. Roan made a small noise at the back of his throat, something deep that almost sounded like a growl but I was sure I imagined. He pulled back, soft pants caressing my lips as his hand reached up to slide my robe off my right shoulder. Our lips met again and I took the chance, slipping the dagger out of my robe and tucking it under the pillows. It was a smart move as almost immediately he lowered himself on top of me, trapping me against the bed with his weight but not suffocating me. I shivered as his fingers, long and calloused, caressed the skin of my neck where his mark was supposed to go. Fingers gave way to lips that began to press soft, electrifying kisses into the sensitive area. I made a small sound and my cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. I was enjoying what was happening a little too much. I had to make my move before he made his move. Reaching up, I began caressing the small hairs at the back of his neck. I was rewarded with a pleased hum, his muscles relaxing under my ministrations. Satisfied, I slowly slid my other hand underneath the pillow and drew out the dagger in a surprisingly steady grip, considering how fast my heart was beating in my chest. 'No going back.' I thought to myself, trying to ignore the wrongness of ending the life of a man who felt so real against me. But I had no choice, not when I had Alpha Gordon to answer to. It was that thought that gave me the strength to raise the dagger high, its sharp tip poised over where his Pterion should be. Just like I had practiced. With a deep breath, I tightened my grip around the hilt of the dagger and then swung down with all my might. My eyes pinched shut, not wanting to see the gore. They snapped open when a large hand suddenly caught my arm, inches away from the blade sinking into his skull. Stopping the blow should have been impossible when he was so distracted. I should have felt his muscles tense first, or something, but he had moved too quickly. He moved like... My eyes narrowed at his fingers now tipped with sharp claws, and I felt my heart drop to my stomach. Slowly, I turned to meet his eyes. My worst fears were confirmed when I met Lycan golds, glaring down at me.