Chapter 6 #2
“We’ll speak again soon, Alexa,” Romero says, inclining his head politely, and I return the nod.
The door closes behind them, leaving me alone with Alastair. I lift the teacup and take a slow sip. The warmth spreads across my tongue, easing the tightness in my chest before sinking lower, steadying me from within. When I lower the cup, I find Alastair watching me.
“You knew I was lying about that heir machine nonsense, didn’t you?” he asks, his voice roughened.
My lips twitch. A scoff escapes before I can soften it. “How would I know? That’s exactly how you treated me from the start. Before you locked me in that filthy dungeon cell.”
“I was jealous.” The words cut through the air.
“What?” I frown, disbelief tightening my expression.
“I used to believe in true mates,” he mumbles.
“Figured there’d be one woman meant for me.
I waited. Never found her. All I had was some scrap of prophecy about a rare she wolf destined to cross my path.
Then I hear about a powerful virgin Lycan woman up for auction. You think I was gonna sit still?”
He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees. His fingers rake through his straight black hair, pushing it back from his face before clasping it at the nape of his neck. His eyes close briefly, as if he’s searching for something buried deep inside himself.
“You’ve got no idea how damn happy I was when I pulled you outta that auction,” he continues. “And you sure as hell know how much I hated Gabriel for touching what I thought might be mine.”
He exhales and leans back against the sofa. His fingers retrieve the cigarette resting on the saucer. He brings it to his lips and inhales deeply, eyes closing again as smoke threads through the air, mingling with his natural musk.
He looks almost regal sitting there, shoulders broad, presence commanding.
A king carved from shadow and pride. I can’t deny the pull of his charisma.
If he had not hidden behind cruelty and that suffocating belief that women exist to serve, if he had not thrown me into a cell before offering a single honest word, perhaps I might have fallen for him the day we met.
“He locked us up without ever laying a hand on us”’ Mythril murmurs in my mind. “There was no violence.”
“You’re trying to charm me, aren’t you?” I ask, forcing a scoff to cover the quick rhythm of my pulse.
He studies me for a long moment. Smoke drifts from his lips as he slowly shakes his head.
“No,” he says at last. “I just wanted you to hear the truth from me.”
“Really?” I hold his gaze, refusing to look away. “Then answer me straight. Why’d you lock me up? If you were so damn happy to find me, why didn’t you set me free?”
My eyes demand something solid. No riddles, no pride. I just need to know the truth.
“Don’t you remember begging to be freed?” He tilts his head, his index finger tapping lightly against his temple. “I can still hear it. You, on your knees, rejecting me like I was nothing.”
“I was sold, for Goddess’s sake,” I shoot back, disbelief tightening my chest. “No sane person would just accept being traded like cattle. Of course I begged.”
“Yes. And that’s exactly why I locked you up.” His growl comes low and sharp as he straightens in his chair. His eyes burn into mine, fury flickering beneath the surface like wildfire waiting for wind.
He presses his finger against his broad chest. “I wasn’t about to let you run from me. I was getting everything ready. The ceremony. The vows. A proper wedding. Then that damned man snatched you away.” His hand slices through the air as if cutting down an invisible enemy.
The rage shifts into something darker, something edged with hatred. He lets out a frustrated roar, his fist slamming into the sofa’s armrest. The impact vibrates through the space between us as he leans closer.
“Tell me,” he demands, voice roughened. “Who took you from me?”
I swallow, forcing the tension down my throat. Gabriel is already a thorn buried deep under my skin. The last thing I need is another feud tightening around me like a noose.
Then another thought rises, quiet but persistent. Maybe anger can be redirected. Maybe fury can be useful and this fracture between Alphas is the crack I need to slip through to find freedom.
“Alpha Gabriel,” I say steadily, meeting Alastair’s eyes without flinching. “He ordered Harlow to infiltrate the Blood Moon Pack and free me.”
“Harlow?” His eyes narrow.
“He’s the other potential mate Gabriel mentioned earlier. Back then, he didn’t even know he was one of my mates. Gabriel figured he could sacrifice him if Harlow failed.”
I offer the truth. No embellishment. No protection.
“All because of that bastard,” Alastair mutters, fists tightening until his knuckles pale.
“Yes,” I reply. “If not for him, maybe I’d be living in the Blood Moon Pack right now.”
The air thickens with what might have been. The door opens before the silence can stretch any further.
“Sorry to keep y’all waiting,” Gabriel says lightly as he steps inside. “I brought Mr. Pascoe. He handles our family assets.” An elderly man follows behind him, whom I recognize at once.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Alastair lean back into the sofa, the tension draining from his posture as smoothly as if it never existed. He lifts his cigarette and takes a slow drag, nodding as though we have been discussing nothing more than weather.
For a brief second, his eyes meet mine. Beneath the calm surface, I see something settled there. A decision.
“Fine,” he says evenly, giving me a small nod before turning to Gabriel. “I’ll play along with whatever you’ve got in mind.”
“Good,” Gabriel replies with a satisfied grin.
He has no idea what storm brews beneath that calm. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ve set something into motion even I won’t be able to control.