Love Was Never the Deal

Chapter 4

The voice was cold as a blade, carrying the full force of Alpha command. It shattered the silence like ice cracking under pressure.

I froze, breath caught in my throat.

"I—"

I bit my lip, scrambling for an explanation, anything to show I hadn't meant to trespass.

But before I could speak, a violent rush of wind slammed into me.

A tall, swift figure burst out of the darkness.

My back hit the wall so hard stars burst across my vision. An arm, solid as iron, pinned me by the collarbone, locking me in place.

Warm breath brushed my ear—yet somehow, it felt colder than the air around us.

His other hand clamped around my jaw, forcing my head up.

In the dim light, all I could see were his eyes—crimson, sharp, unmistakably dangerous.

His voice came low and hoarse, roughened by the edge of losing control. Every word struck like a blow.

"I told you—"

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel the fury simmering off him.

"I don't need anyone to serve me."

The air froze around us, so still I could hear my own breath catch—tightening inch by inch under the pressure rolling off his chest.

His fingers tightened, just barely, but enough to make me think he might crush me in the next heartbeat.

"I... I didn't come to—"

"Shut up."

His growl rumbled like distant thunder, sending a tremor racing down my spine.

His wolf was right beneath his skin, clawing to break free—dangerously close, terrifyingly raw.

And worse—

I didn't know why, but the nearer he leaned, the stronger the pull became, dragging me toward him with a force that made no rational sense.

It wasn't logical.

It wasn't controlled.

It was instinct. Pure, primal attraction.

He froze for half a second, as if sensing something—something he didn't want to feel. A flicker of emotion flashed across his eyes, there and gone in an instant.

Then the moment shattered under a surge of fury.

The wall at my back was ice-cold. My heart burned hot enough to hurt.

He loomed over me, body tense with an impulse he was barely holding in check.

A trapped beast clinging to the last shred of reason.

"Get. Out."

His voice was low, dangerous—more warning than command. Or maybe… a plea. A struggle.

"I—I didn't come to—"

I tried again, but his head snapped up, his gaze cutting me off.

His eyes—dark red, feral, warning me he was seconds from losing control.

"Get out."

This time the words scraped from deep in his throat, raw and terrifying.

His fingers trembled against my shoulder, shaking so hard they might shift into claws any second.

And suddenly I understood.

He wasn't trying to chase me away.

He was trying to protect me—from himself.

His breath scorched across my neck, hot enough to feel like fire.

My pulse hammered. I tried to pull back, but he caught my wrist effortlessly. Even through his skin, I felt the heat—unnatural, blistering, barely contained.

No.

This temperature…

This ragged breathing…

This feral, unrestrained aura…

As a healer, I recognized it instantly.

He was holding himself together by force.

And—

He was in heat.

On a full-moon night.

No wonder his voice shook with danger.

"You—" I managed, "your condition is unstable. I didn't come here to—"

"Shut up."

His jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped. Sweat beaded along his brow.

"Stay away from me."

But he couldn't move.

Maybe because I was too close. Maybe because he was already losing the fight. I could feel the turmoil inside him, boiling and wild, threatening to rip through his control. His knuckles were white where he gripped the wall, as if the pressure alone could anchor him.

The only sound in the room was his heavy, ragged breathing.

And then I realized—

that strange pull, that invisible force dragging me closer…

It was his Alpha scent, leaking uncontrollably into the air.

And I… had walked straight into it.

Was I being used as bait?

Or… was I the only thing keeping him from losing himself completely?

My throat tightened, yet for some reason my heart hammered faster with every breath he drew.

He lifted his gaze. His pupils were so dark they seemed ready to drag me into an abyss—fury held back only by something dangerously close to desire.

"Don't—come near me."

His voice was hoarse, frayed at the edges.

Yet a second later, his arms loosened, and I pitched forward into his chest.

I caught myself against him, only for a strong arm to clamp around my waist.

That grip… it didn't feel like he was pushing me away.

It felt like—

he'd finally caught hold of the one thing keeping him from falling apart.

My heartbeat thudded against my ribs, loud enough I was sure he could hear it.

"I can help you," I said, gathering every bit of courage I had, though my voice still shook. "Please… just trust me, okay?"

Something in him hit pause. A flicker of surprise, confusion—maybe my voice had anchored him.

Then he lowered his head, his breath brushing my ear.

And—

He inhaled at the crook of my neck.

A jolt shot through my skin like a thin wire of electricity, sharp and unbearably warm. My body tensed—then melted, betraying me completely as the heat quietly spread.

"Mmm…"

A tiny, barely audible sound slipped out of me. Not on purpose—at least, not consciously.

Oh my god. What am I doing?

When I came back to myself, my face was burning, humiliatingly hot. I wanted to dig a hole and disappear. But my body still trembled… as if wanting more.

He noticed.

Slowly, he lifted his head. His gaze returned to my face—dark, piercing, threaded with something wild and unsteady.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice low:

"You… aren't like the others."

His tone was rough, like an emotion rubbed raw. I couldn't tell if his words held surprise, danger, or something even more unsettling.

I tried to step back, but panic made my foot slip. He caught me instantly.

Heat radiated from his palm where it pressed against my waist, nearly unravelling me all over again.

"What do you smell?" I forced my breathing to stay even, my voice only barely steady. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He didn't answer at first. He only leaned in, as if confirming something.

"Your scent," he said finally, "affects me."

"Affects… you?"

He gave the slightest nod, his golden, feral eyes narrowing as his Adam's apple dipped once.

"Yes. It makes me—"

He cut himself off, as if saying the next word would cross a line he couldn't come back from.

My heart skipped violently.

What did he mean? What exactly had he sensed? Or was it—

Before I could think, urgent knocking shattered the moment.

"Alpha," a voice called, respectful but tight with tension. "A few werewolf warriors just entered the bar. Their behavior is suspicious—as if they're looking for something. Do you want me to take them out before they cause trouble?"

My breath caught.

Those werewolves…

were they looking for me?

In the darkness, I sensed a subtle shift in the man's breathing. He didn't answer his subordinate right away; instead, he slowly turned his gaze toward me.

Even in the dim light, that stare cut straight through me—sharp as a blade, slicing past every disguise I thought I had.

—He was looking at me.

In that single glance were questions, danger, and something deeper I couldn't decipher.

My heart hammered so hard it felt like it might burst from my chest, my whole body wound tight like a string ready to snap.

What did he sense…?

I reached out and grabbed his wrist, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please… help me. I'm begging you. In return, I can help you with your problems."