Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Goosebumps tingle along my skin as he lowers his nose an inch from my neck and inhales.
Slow. Deliberate. Deep.
An approving growl rumbles out of his massive chest and I swear, I feel it vibrating in my bones.
His eyes seem to be lit with a gray fire as he stands back up, his nostrils flared, his hands gripped into fists.
His gaze is locked on me as if he might never look away.
The guard reaches out to grab my arm, to keep this barbaric Vocatio Regia moving, but King Alaric stops him.
“Halt,” he commands, shoving the guard back with his palm. One quick push and the guard is on his ass.
“My Alpha?” the trembling guard says, looking up at him in fear.
“OUT!” the Wolf King bellows, his deep voice echoing through the stone room, echoing through me. “Everybody out.”
Everyone turns to flee, guards included.
But I’m frozen to the spot, eyes locked on this imposing shifter.
“Not you,” he says in a low, throaty voice. “You’re mine now.”
Chapter Five
King Alaric
Bodies rush out of the vast throne room like waves receding from the shore.
The great doors are thrown open, and I hear the royal guard barking orders, ushering the women out with hurried efficiency, though their voices are strangely muted as if my head is submerged underwater.
Everything in the background fades to a muted nothingness.
Because all of my focus is locked on her.
She stands there, staring back at me, seizing my soul with her gorgeous brown eyes that are powerful enough to make a Wolf King fall to his knees.
There is no doubt.
No uncertainty.
No question left to be asked.
This woman is my mate.
No pretending necessary. No political games or forced connections.
It’s her.
Mine.
The realization lands hard and absolute, like a hammer slamming onto an anvil. Like a key turning with a click in a lock. My world tilts sharply on its axis, and I know nothing will ever be the same again.
I have stood before thousands of my female subjects. I have met women of all ages, sizes, classes, and ranges of beauty.
They all pale in comparison to this human female.
I have never felt this kind of primal need. The intensity of it is making my hands shake.
She’s stunning.
Her hair is as dark as the night, loose around her shoulders like it refuses to be tamed, just like her indomitable spirit. Those bewitching brown eyes are pulling me in, charming and seductive. My castle could be on fire all around me and I still wouldn’t be able to look away.
Her skin looks so soft, and those lips… Gods, I can’t breathe.
My mate’s intoxicating scent is still swirling in my lungs, curling through me in a way that is instantly familiar and devastatingly new all at once.
The great doors slam shut behind the last fleeing guard and the heavy sound reverberates through the chamber like a final pronouncement. The echo fades, leaving us in silence.
That is when my wolf awakens with a roar.
Not gently.
Not cautiously.
He surges up from the depths of me like a beast freed from iron chains, flooding my veins with heat and power and a feral presence so intense it steals my breath. My muscles flex of their own accord, strength pouring into them until I feel larger, heavier, and more solid than I was a moment ago.
Every cell in my body comes alive.
Truly alive.
I draw a slow breath and feel my chest expand. I feel my senses sharpen. I can hear my mate’s heartbeat, quick and strong. I can smell every delicious inch of her. I can almost taste her in the air.
My wolf presses forward, eager, possessive, triumphant.
Where the fuck have you been? I ask.
Mine, he snarls back.
Ours, I correct as a new form of possessiveness rages through me.
She tilts her head as she watches my transformation, like she can tell something has just changed, like she can feel the difference.
I stare back at her, wondering what to do. What to say.
All my life, I have commanded. My voice has moved armies. My will has dominated packs and crushed dissent. I was born an alpha. Dominance is as natural to me as breathing, a language my body speaks without thought.
But as I look down at this frail human female, standing there unafraid, eyes bright and fierce, I know instinctively that this is not a situation that can be handled the same way.
Domination and commands will not work with her.
Brute force will get me nowhere.
She is not prey.
She is not my subject.
She is not something to be ordered into place.
She is a part of me. An equal. My future queen.
If anything, there is something in the way she watches me—assessing, unyielding, unflinching—that suggests she might very well be the one to dominate me.
The thought sends a dangerous thrill through my wolf.
Her voice breaks the silence.
“What will happen to all of those girls?”
The question is sharp, immediate, utterly unconcerned with her own vulnerable position in this moment. I’m so distracted by her that it takes me a heartbeat to understand what she means.