Page 8 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
I can tell from the Commander’s questions that Thea must be alive, but she’s still keeping me in the dark.
“Listen, I’ve answered your questions. Now it’s your turn.” I lean forward, gripping the edge of the mattress. “Where is Thea? Is she okay? You clearly know something.”
The Commander’s expression hardens. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
“And yet here I am, making them.” I stand up, approaching the bars that separate us. “Look, I don’t know what’s happening, but I’ve spent nearly a year worrying about her. If she’s alive, I deserve to know.”
“Youdeservenothing.”
“Then why keep me alive? Why bring me here?” I press to my advantage, noticing how her fingers twitch slightly. “You took belongings from her apartment. You call her ‘Luna’. Tell me where she is!”
“Enough.” Her voice drops to a fierce whisper. “You seem to have forgotten your situation,human. You are the captive here. I decide what information you receive.”
Damn, anger makes her even more stunning.Her eyes flash and her cheeks flush with color. Her lips form an unamused frown that draws attention to the elegant line of her throat. It’s like watching a thunderstorm gather — beautiful, threatening, and completely captivating.
I cross my arms in front of me. “Fine. Then I’m not answering any more questions. I want a lawyer.”
“A lawy—” She shakes her head. “Suit yourself. We’ll see how you fare once my Alpha decides what to do with you.”
She rises suddenly, her chair scraping against the floor. I should be concerned about poking the bear, but part of me just wants to see what happens when lightning strikes.
As she turns to leave, I say, “So, Rhiannon, right?”
Her head whips around.Yeah, that might’ve been a mistake.“I didn’t tell you my name.”
“You didn’t have to,” I respond. “You and Akila were throwing names around like beach balls back at the apartment.” I pause. “I didn’t catch the big one’s name, though. Thank him for not killing me. . .or letting you kill me.”
The muscles along her cheek twitch. Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. But I never know when to quit.
“Look, next time you break into a place,” I continue, “maybe try code names? And wear masks—”
I blink.
She’s on me, arm pressed against my throat, pushing me back, kneeling on the mattress, pinning me against the wall. She snarls, fangs protruding from her mouth.
Holy shit.Icy panic rushes through my veins. I wasn’t imagining things earlier after all. IthoughtI saw fangs and her hand turn into a claw when her long nails dug into my skin. Now, I see both as clear as day.
But even with those deadly canines inches from my face, my attention catches on the curve of her mouth and the way her eyes have gone full gold again, like something ancient looking out through them. This close, I can see amber flecks in her irises and her body close enough that I feel the temperature difference between her skin and the cold cell air. She’s terrifying.I’m into it.
Her scent hits me: cedar and cool night air, sharp enough to cut through the damp. I rarely notice those kinds of details, which makes this strange. My brain gets the message. The rest of me doesn’t care.
I can barely breathe but I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and deadly in my entire life.
“Don’t you dare be so familiar with me,” she growls. “At this moment, you are alive because I have decided to allow it, but if you continue to bait me, that will change. Nod if you understand me.”
I nod as oxygen is quickly being cut off from my brain.
She releases me and climbs off the bed, allowing me to breathe once more. I lean over and gasp for air, rubbing my already sore neck.
She steps back, keeping her eyes on me. “Push me again, and you’ll find out exactly how merciful I’ve been so far.”
I watch her leave, taking note of her pert behind as she slams the cell door and walks away. Once she’s gone, I collapse on the bed and can’t keep from chuckling.A fear boner was definitely not on my agenda for today.
Staring at the rough ceiling where water droplets build and fall with a soft plink onto the dirt, the cold works into my joints as I try to make sense of my reaction to her. No one has ever gotten under my skin this fast. My body is running on its own agenda, and it doesn’t check with my brain first.
Even when angry and threatening to end me, she was breathtaking. The way she moved — every motion was deliberate, nothing wasted. The flash of her eyes, the way her lips almost revealed something vulnerable. I can still feel exactly where her arm pressed into my throat, where her knee dug into the mattress beside me, and my body has zero shame about its reaction to the memory.
What the hell is wrong with me?She’s literally holding me prisoner, has actual fangs, and yet all I can think about is what it would be like to have her in this bed with me again.
