Every part of my body screamed to run.
My legs tensed with the instinct to flee, but I was rooted in place, my pulse hammering so violently it echoed in my ears.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless, unsure whether to bare its teeth or to hide.
Here he was, the man everyone outside Undercity spoke of in whispers, their voices sharp with fear.
The Alpha who ruled beneath the earth, the one said to be crueler than night itself. All other packs called him a monster. A ruthless villain who would kill for nothing but amusement. The stories were always gruesome, painted with gore and terror, as though he were not a man at all, but a devil summoned from the depths of some otherworld.
I had thought, if the stories held even a grain of truth, that he would look hideous.
Brutish. A giant with jagged scars, a man whose flesh reeked of blood, whose eyes gleamed with the cunning of a beast. A nightmare cloaked in skin.
But no.
The man before me was nothing like that.
As he stepped forward, the light from the lamps above the balcony spilled over him.
My breath faltered. His features were refined, his jaw carved with elegance. His body was lean and honed like a warrior’s, but not overly large. He did not need the grotesque size of a brute to command presence. His very stillness carried weight.
His white suit, lined with threads of gold, fit him flawlessly. Regal. Sharp.
Immaculately civilized, as though mockingly so. A contrast to the dark stories that clung to his name like a curse.
His short silver hair had been slicked back, but some rebellious strands had fallen onto his forehead.
He held a glass of wine in one hand, the liquid a deep garnet, and the two rings adorning his fingers glinted faintly under the light.
But it was his eyes that pinned me.
Dark. Bloody. Unforgiving.
Wicked in a way that felt deeper than malice. Eyes that threatened not to harm my body, but to strip my mind bare, to pull at the seams of my sanity until nothing was left.
"It was you..." The words tore from me in a breath I could not hold back.
It was him. The man who visited her dreams. The black wolf with the power of shadows.
He smiled. Slowly. His lips curved upward, until I caught the gleam of his canines.
They were sharper than any teeth had a right to be. Not the monstrous fangs of a wolf, yet still sharp enough to remind me of what he was beneath the suit.
Sweat gathered at the nape of my neck, cold against my skin.
The panic was swirling in the deepest of my bones.
My chest rose and fell too quickly, breath uneven, because no matter how hard I tried, I could not banish the image that surged into my mind.
Finn’s wolf fangs sinking into my mother’s flesh. The sound of skin ripping, the wet choke of blood filling her throat, crimson spilling down her chest as I screamed.
I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. "Why? Why did you bring me here?"
I hated how fragile I sounded, hated the crack that escaped with the words.
I felt hollow, weak, breakable in front of him.
Yes, I told myself before that I’d do anything it would take for me to escape Finn’s chains. Even if I’d need to have a deal with the devil. But back then I’d never thought I’d get entangled with this man. I never thought I’d ever step foot in Undercity.
And yet here I was. Standing before the forsaken land’s ruler.
For some reason, he had found ways into my mind. My dreams had carried the shadow of his voice, his words curling like smoke, promising escape.
Was it really all meant to help me, though?
There was always a cost. Always.
Especially when it was a matter of life and death.
His lips parted, his voice smooth and edged with mockery. "Would you rather be in Finn’s lands?" He arched a brow. "Or in the waters, your flesh feasted upon by fishes?"
The smirk that tugged at his mouth suggested amusement, as if the thought of my body torn apart in a river was nothing more than a jest.
But I could not laugh at his twisted humor.
My lips pressed together tightly. My pulse skittered in my throat.
"I saved you and brought you here," he added. "Don’t you want to thank me first before the interrogation?"
How could I thank him when I didn’t even know what his motives were? He sounded too proud for what he’d done. Like I’d lick his shoes for it, even if I didn’t even know why he did it. I guessed it was because he had too much power and influence, he’d expect I’d beg for his attention and favor after being saved.
"Tell me first. Why?" My fingers curled against the fabric of my gown, wrinkling it in my grip. "Why did you help me? What do you want from me?"
The words echoed harsher than I had intended, my fear sharpening them into accusation. But I did not take them back.
Don’t be afraid, I reminded myself.
What more could he take from me? My mother was already gone. My only family.
I had nothing left to lose but my own life. And at this point, I doubt it mattered much to me.
I forced myself to lift my chin. "How did you even know me?"
The sound that rolled from his throat was low, smooth, and dangerous.
"So curious..." His tone was almost a purr, like a predator humoring prey with a question it already knew the answer to.
His eyes gleamed as he took a step forward.
I retreated instantly, my body betraying me, but the balcony’s stone bannister pressed into my back.
The cold stone bit through the thin fabric of my gown, pinning me between escape and him.