Roman~
The heavy door to my penthouse at the top of Thorin Tower slammed shut with a sound that echoed through the empty space like a gunshot.
I didn't turn on the lights. I didn't need them.
The storm outside provided enough through the windows. Flashes of lightning illuminated the black forest and the deep ravine far below, where everything weak eventually fell and disappeared.
I stood there, still in the same clothes from the hotel, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Blood trickled down, warm and sticky, but I barely felt it. All I could feel was her, Azalea.
Her scent still clung to my skin. Sweet. Furious. Addictive. Mixed with the unmistakable smell of sex and my own release.
I could still taste her on my tongue. The salt of her sweat, the way her pussy had flooded my mouth when I'd eaten her like a starving man before driving my cock into her.
Fuck.
I walked to the window and pressed my forehead against the cold glass, staring out into the darkness that mirrored the rot inside my chest.
Four years. Four goddamn years I had carried this curse in silence. Watching her from the shadows at every pack event.
Watching her smile at Timothy like he was worthy of her. Watching him touch what should have been mine while I stood there like a loyal Alpha, jaw locked, pretending the sight didn't tear me apart.
Last night, that control had shattered completely.
Even drugged, she had been perfect. The way her legs had wrapped around me, heels digging into my ass as she pulled me deeper. The shattered moans that escaped her throat when my knot began to swell, stretching her pussy hard. The way she had clenched and gushed around me, coming so hard her entire body shook while she cried out - thinking it was him.
I hated that part the most.
My cock hardened again at the memory, pressing painfully against my pants. I growled low in my throat, hating my own body for its weakness.
I had wanted her for so long that having her, even like that, felt like both salvation and damnation. Her walls had gripped me like they never wanted to let go. Hot. Wet. Greedy. Milking every drop from me as my knot locked us together for what felt like hours.
I slammed my fist into the windowsill. The wood splintered under the force.
She believed I had orchestrated it. I had seen it burning in her eyes this morning when the cameras flashed and the world watched her humiliation. That mix of devastation and pure hatred.
She thought I had done it to punish her for standing up to me in the office two days ago. For calling me cruel. For looking me dead in the eyes and telling me I was nothing but a cold, arrogant bastard hiding behind money and power.
Part of me wished I had planned it. At least then I could claim her properly. At least then I wouldn't feel like the worst kind of monster.
I returned to my desk. Poured myself a large glass of whiskey and downed half of it in one go, the burn doing nothing to dull the ache in my chest.
Timothy's face kept flashing through my mind.
The way he had stood there with Christy, holding her hand like he had rehearsed the moment a thousand times.
The reporters arriving too fast. The way he had rejected Azalea without a single second of hesitation or pain. Without even giving her a second chance.
Everything was too clean. Too convenient.
That bastard and Azalea's so-called best friend had set us both up. I believed. They had drugged her. Drugged me. Used the one night I lost control to destroy her reputation and free him to be with Christy. And they had succeeded.
Rage vibrated the blood in my veins and settled deep in my bones.
Timothy had been my Beta. My best friend since we were pups. I had trusted him with everything. Even when he had invited me to Azalea's birthday last night. I didn't fucking turn it down even while I hated public gatherings.
And he had betrayed not just me, but the woman I had secretly wanted for years.
Christy would suffer too. I would make sure of it. Their pain would be worse than mine and Azalea's. I would break them so hard that their bones would scream from crushing.
But Azalea...
She would be different now.
I knew her fire. She wouldn't break quietly. She wouldn't disappear into the shadows and lick her wounds. That look she gave me before security dragged her away - it wasn't just hate.
It was vengeance taking root. She would come for me. She would try to seduce me. Use that beautiful body and that sharp tongue as weapons to make me fall, then shatter me. She had no fucking idea how much I could predict her every move.
A dark, possessive smile tugged at my lips despite everything.
Let her try. Let her come for me.
I wanted her close. Closer than she had ever been. Close enough that I could finally stop pretending. Close enough to taste her again while she still hated me. Close enough to watch her crack and realize she belonged to me.
I finished the whiskey and set the glass down, staring at my reflection in the window. The Alpha. The billionaire. The man who could have any woman in Shadowveil with a single look. Yet the only one I had ever truly wanted had been forbidden.
Until now.
Her bond with my beta was gone. She was free.
And I was done holding back.
The storm outside raged harder, lightning illuminating the endless black forest.
Somewhere out there, Azalea was hurting. Planning. Burning with the need to destroy me. I am certain.
Good.
Come for me, little Beta.
Seduce me. Hate me. Try to ruin me.
I'll be waiting.
And when you finally get close enough... I won't let you go again.
