Chapter 42
Chapter 42
“Ah p>
The sound slips out of me when my back hits the mattress and Alaric cages me in without warning. His palms land on either side of my head, body hovering just close enough for his heat to bleed into mine. The mattress dips under his weight, and the air between us crackles like a live wire.
His nose brushes mine. Amber eyes blaze down at me, sharp and wicked, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
“We have to put on a show, sweetheart.” His voice is low and dangerous, teasing like a predator playing with its meal. “Don’t go quiet on me now p>
I try to roll my eyes, to give him attitude, but my voice comes out embarrassingly breathy. “You’re insane p>
“Mm,” he hums, lips curving like sin. “And you’re stalling p>
I become acutely aware of the hard length pressed against my thigh. It’s impossible to ignore. My heart stutters, my breath catches, and for the first time tonight, the reality of this ridiculous tradition slams into me.
Omegas are literally waiting outside for proof. Proof. What the actual hell.
Before I can find another snarky comeback, his hips roll forward–slow, and damning. My mouth falls open. The friction is scorching through the thin clothes between us, his control terrifying in how precise it is.
“Alaric-” My protest melts into a gasp as he does it again, harder this time.
He lowers himself until his chest brushes mine, one hand slipping under the hem of the lingerie I’m wearing, fingers dragging against bare skin. My entire body jerks at the touch, heat surging through me like a match striking flame.
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep any sound from escaping.
His mouth is at my ear in an instant. “They won’t believe it if you keep biting your lip like that,” he murmurs, voice rough enough to scrape against my spine.
“Shut up,” I hiss, mortified.
“Make me,” he whispers back, grinding again—slow torture that pulls a traitorous moan from my throat. His chuckle is dark and pleased. Bastard.
He shifts suddenly, adjusting us like he’s done this a thousand times. His knee slides between my thighs, pressing up just right, and his hand grips my hip, anchoring me while the other tangles in my hair.
My bandaged legs limit my movement, but he moves us around like it’s nothing, as if he’s built for this exact brand of filthy theater.
“Gods,” I breathe when his knee pushes upward, friction hitting me dead–on. My hands fist the sheets on either side of me. I hate that I can’t control the sounds slipping out. Each slow grind makes me arch involuntarily, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
9:56 Sat, Jan 3
Chapter 42
Outside, faint murmurs echo–Omegas waiting for their damn “confirmation.” I want to die.
A
He dips his head, lips dragging along the curve of my neck. “Louder,” he commands softly, the order wrapping around me like silk and steel. “They’re listening p>
“Fuck you,” I whisper back, cheeks blazing.
He growls against my skin. “You’re halfway there already, sweetheart p>
My laugh comes out breathless, shaky. “You’re insufferable p>
“And yet,” he says, voice dark amusement, “you’re not stopping me p>
He’s right. I’m not. I hate him for it. I hate how my body answers to him like this is the most natural thing in the world.
“Just–I gasp as he thrusts against me again, perfectly timed, perfectly wicked. “We could just… leave some blood on the damn mattress or something. Isn’t that enough p>
The look he gives me is pure mischief. “Where’s the fun in that p>
“Alaric-” I don’t get to finish.
He grabs me suddenly, turning me in his arms like I weigh nothing, and slams us back onto the mattress. The bedframe cracks with a loud, splintering noise that echoes through the entire room. My eyes go wide as outside, a chorus of excited cheers erupts from the Omegas.
“Did you just-” I stare at him, incredulous.
“Break the royal bed?” His grin is pure wickedness. “Yeah p>
I smack his chest. “You’re such an idiot p>
He laughs, the sound low and rumbling. “You love it p>
“I really don’t,” I lie, glaring at him even as my pulse refuses to settle. His laugh deepens, and his hips press once more against mine, slower this time, like he’s memorizing the shape of me through fabric alone. Every inch of him is hot, overwhelming, too much.
And then he stops.
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Just like that. He pulls back. The sudden lack of contact is a punch to the gut. My chest rises and falls rapidly, both of us flushed, panting. I don’t even realize how close I’d been to losing myself in the act until it’s ripped
away.
Confusion tangles with something else I don’t want to name. I meet his eyes, expecting some smug remark, but what I find instead is restraint–real, hard–won restraint.
He reaches up and presses a kiss to my forehead. Not my lips. My forehead. It’s stupidly intimate, and for a second, the world tilts.
9:56 Sat, Jan 3
Chapter 42
“When it happens for real,” he murmurs against my skin, “it won’t be for them. It’ll be for us
My breath catches. The bastard.
Before I can say anything, he casually brings his hand to his mouth, bites the edge of his palm, and lets a thin line of blood trickle down. He smears it across the sheets like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
My jaw drops. “You’re insane p>
He looks up, smirk firmly in place. “Efficient p>
My chest is still heaving like I ran a damn marathon. The broken bed creaks beneath us, splintered at the footboard like it couldn’t take the weight of what just happened. Alaric is braced above me, arms locked, knuckles bone–white where he grips the headboard. His breath ghosts over my cheek, hot and uneven. My thighs are shaking. Every nerve under my skin is alive, humming.
He looks down at me, eyes glowing faintly gold. A dangerous, satisfied grin curves his mouth. “The entire pack’s going to think I fucked you through the mattress p>
“Yeah,” I manage, rolling my eyes to cover the way my pulse spikes at his voice. “Because that’s exactly the kind of rumor I want circling before breakfast p>
His laugh is low and rough, dragging over my skin. “You’re welcome p>
“Asshole p>
He finally pushes off the bed, sitting back on his heels. Sweat dampens the strands of his midnight hair, sticking to his temples.
He looks like sin incarnate–dangerous, smug, and very aware of it. I drag myself upright, my legs wobbling slightly as I sit. The smell of sweat, wood, and the faint tang of blood from earlier fills the air. My cheeks burn when I catch the red smear on the sheets.
Evidence. Right.
He follows my gaze, lips twitching. “Convincing p>
“Shut up,” I hiss, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it at his face. He catches it easily, still grinning.
We clean up in silence, the kind that isn’t awkward but charged. I wrap a blanket around myself and move to the couch because the bed looks one thrust away from total collapse.
He joins me a moment later, settling behind me without asking. His arm hooks around my waist, heavy and warm, pulling me back against his chest. His wolf must be smug as hell; I can feel the low rumble vibrating through him.
I should shove him off. I don’t. My heartbeat betrays me, pounding faster the longer he holds me. His chin finds the crook of my neck, breath steadying as he drifts toward sleep. It feels… dangerously safe.
And that’s exactly why I repeat in my head: This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t change anything.
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Chapter 42
I stare into the dim room until the edges blur. The sound of his breathing, steady and deep, lulls me in ways it shouldn’t. My eyelids grow heavy.
I slip under.
The smell hits first–iron and wet earth. My paws sink into the forest floor, mud cold between my toes. Edith’s voice cuts through the night.
“Edith! Let’s go to the Alpha King and p>
A blur from the shadows. A hand. She’s yanked back mid–sentence.
“Edith p>
Her scream sticks in my throat. The rogue’s knife gleams under the moon, pressed against her throat. His voice is a rasp that crawls under my skin. “How do you know your precious Alpha King didn’t plan this too p>
My wolf snarls, bones snapping as I shift. His smirk falters right before I hit him.
Two others close in. They’re massive, their weight hitting the ground like hammers. A claw slices my ribs; hot blood spills down my flank. Pain burns, sharp and bright. I launch again, catching one’s shoulder, metallic tang flooding my mouth. He shakes me off like I’m nothing.
Edith is still pinned. Her eyes lock on mine–desperate, fierce.
“Luna Sorin–run p>
No.
She shifts mid–knife. The blade slices her throat, blood blooming like a sick flower. Her howl tears through the night, jagged and choking. She takes the rogue down with her jaws locked around his throat. Two more whirl toward her, but she turns on me instead, eyes blazing.
“Run p>
Her voice snaps like a whip. My wolf obeys. Trees blur. Air cuts against my face. Her howl breaks behind me. Then silence.
Gone.
She’s gone.
I jolt awake, heart hammering against my ribs like it wants out. Cold sweat clings to my temples, my shirt sticking to my back. Alaric’s arm is still around me, heavy and protective. His chest rises and falls against my spine, steady and infuriatingly comforting.
My throat tightens–not with comfort, but fury. You’re here to survive. To destroy them. Not to fall for him.
9:57 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 42
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Morning comes in thin strips of gold filtering through the curtains. The room smells faintly of soap, blood, and him. I peel his arm off me carefully, inch by inch, holding my breath like I’m defusing a bomb. He doesn’t stir. I stand beside the ruined bed, staring at him.
Without the scowl, the crown, or the calculated gaze–he looks younger. Vulnerable. My chest aches in a way I don’t want to name.
I shake it off. Don’t be stupid.
I pull on my clothes quickly, tucking the blanket over the mess on the bed. Just as my fingers graze the doorknob, his hand wraps around my wrist, warm and firm. I freeze.
“Leaving already?” His voice is low, still rough from sleep, threading through me like smoke.
I turn, expression cold. “I did my part p>
His fingers loosen. The warmth in his face flickers. He watches me like he’s trying to read something I refuse to show. I slip my hand free and turn back to the door.
“Why did you keep records of my visits back then?” His tone hardens.
I stop. My fingers hover over the knob. Slowly, I turn my head, meeting his gaze with ice. My heart stutters, but
my voice comes out steady.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself p>
His eyes darken—hurt, then masked under the stoic king exterior. He nods once, curt. The air between us fractures. I swallow down the guilt clawing up my throat. You can’t fall for him. You’re leaving anyway.
I open the door and leave.
The hallway is bright, too bright. My cheeks flush as the memory of last night slams into me–his hands, the broken bed, the way we left blood evidence like amateurs. I mutter under my breath, “Perfect. Just fucking perfect p>
I straighten my spine and start limping down the corridor. If the pack thinks we mated, I might as well sell the performance. A passing maid catches sight of me, smirks knowingly, and scurries off. I want the ground to swallow me whole.
“Sorin.” A smooth, saccharine voice slices through the hall. I freeze. Luna Camilla. Of course.
I turn slowly. She’s standing there in some pristine designer outfit, hair perfect, eyes sharp. “Did you enjoy it?” she asks, smile sweet as poison.
I drop the limp without thinking. “Enjoy what p>
She arches a brow. “Don’t play dumb. The whole pack heard. Congratulations p>
“Wow,” I say dryly. “Do you congratulate everyone who breaks a bed, or am I special p>
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Chapter 42
Her smile falters just enough to be satisfying. I adjust my posture like I own the hallway.
Then movement at the far end catches my eye. Wade p>
He’s walking toward us, head down, reading something. My stomach drops. If he looks up–if he sees me–it’s over. Panic flares hot and sharp, adrenaline flooding my veins. My mind races for options, for cover, for anything.
His head starts to lift.
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