Page 15

ARIA

I could hardly hear the conversation happening around the table. Not while blood pounded in my ears like a war drum. My fingers ached from how tightly they clenched my fork and knife, never bringing a morsel of food to my lips. Tears stung the surface of my eyes.

Not for myself, but for the male who stood dutifully behind his wicked brother.

It killed me inside. I wanted to scream. Wanted to obey my innermost instincts and shift right here in the dining room, if only to be given a slim opportunity to rake my claws across Roman’s face.

But I’d seen the warning in Malik’s gaze. Though he couldn’t speak the words aloud, he needed me to stand down. Needed me to be civil despite the anger roiling through my body. I had no doubt that we would both be punished if I didn’t. Only that thought stayed my hand.

So, somehow, I forced myself to bear it. I couldn’t eat, but I pretended, pushing the food around on my plate while others spoke. Once, I tried to bring my water glass to my lips, but my fingers trembled so much the liquid sloshed over the rim and spilled across the tablecloth.

Malik wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t look at anyone.

My mate simply kept his shoulders rolled back and his head high, staring vacantly across the room. Like a statue. A shell of the man, the alpha , he was born to be.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when servants—omegas, judging by their appearance and demeanor—began to clear away the table.

Beside me, Roman dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “I’m so pleased you accepted my invitation, Alpha Alexi.”

The visiting alpha didn’t quite share Roman’s easygoing attitude, though he managed a tight smile. “Seeing as you’re known for your proclivity to raze rival packs to the ground, I’d have been fool to reject it.”

“ Father,” his daughter, Victoria, reprimanded.

She’d been staring at Roman with heart-eyes all evening.

“He’s only joking,” she amended, casting Roman a demure smile that I knew would please him.

“We’ve heard stories about your countless victories.

It’s an honor to be invited to visit the Intonat Nocte Pack. ”

A breath puffed from my nostrils in a poorly veiled scoff.

Roman, who’d been smiling at his potential Luna, narrowed his eyes in my direction. “Something to say, sweet Aria?”

I squared my shoulders, eyes flickering to Malik for half a beat before meeting Roman’s again.

Clearing my throat, I mustered a sickly sweet smile and shook my head.

“Nothing at all. Only that I think you should tell us one of your many war stories. Since you’ve led the Intonat Nocte Pack to countless victories. ”

Roman’s eyes turned to ice.

I’d done nothing wrong. Nothing except ask him to tell a story that I knew he didn’t have .

He’d never been to war. He’d never won a victory. Emerson told me the truth herself. This so-called alpha sat up in this pack house and allowed Malik to risk his life instead. I wouldn’t let him take credit for my mate’s feats.

“It’s poor taste to discuss battle at dinner,” Roman clipped.

I felt Malik’s gaze burning into me, but I daren’t meet it out of fear that I might see disappointment on his features. Instead, Roman’s attempted diversion increased my bravado, and I gestured toward the emptied table around us.

“Dinner is over.” I batted my eyes in feigned innocence and shared a jovial smile with Victoria, who wasn’t much older than me. “Come now. I’m sure Victoria wants to hear of your greatest victory.”

Roman’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and I could practically taste his fury in the air. It was hot and thick and putrid. His inability to control his features betrayed the extent of his deficiencies on the battlefield, and I reveled in the small victory.

I played a dangerous game and cocked a brow in his direction. “Well, Alpha?”

The sound of wood creaking split through the air, a result of Roman’s claws digging into the chair’s armrests. Violence brimmed in his eyes, and, for the briefest moment, fear swept over me.

Then, movement behind his chair caught my eye.

Malik had shifted closer. Only a sliver of gray remained in his good eye, his pupil a pit of black that warned of impending death.

The muscles lining his shoulders were stiff and trembling, like a ticking bomb one flinch from unleashing its wrath on the world. On his brother , should the need arise.

I saw the moment Roman realized it, too.

His eyes flickered to the side, acknowledging Malik’s looming presence. Then, a slow smirk curled on his lips, leveled directly at me .

“My greatest victory, sweet Aria—” He purred my name, and my gut curdled. “Lies in taming the beast you now call your mate.” My heart thundered in my chest, and he continued. “It lies in molding that twisted creature into something worthy of the Intonat Nocte Pack. Don’t you agree?”

Twisted creature. Beast.

Bile crept up my throat, and tension blanketed the room, so thick I could’ve choked on it. I hated this man. I didn’t know if I’d ever hated someone before. I couldn’t even claim to dislike more than a handful of people prior to arriving at the Intonat Nocte Pack. Hate did not come naturally to me.

But I hated Roman. I wanted him to suffer.

Before I could open my mouth and damn myself further, Roman rose from his seat. He towered above me, and I resisted the instinctual urge to bow my head in reverence. I wouldn’t bow for this male. This false alpha.

“Malik,” Roman called, his voice like shards of ice. He didn’t look over his shoulder at his brother, eyes never leaving my face. “Take your mate home and teach her some manners.”

Finally released by his brother’s command, Malik came to my side in an instant. I pushed away from the table, nearly tipping my chair over in the process, to rejoin my mate. I managed to keep my arms from wrapping around his thick waist, but scarcely an inch separated our bodies once more.

My skin warmed where his hand pressed against the small of my back, seemingly just as eager to sweep me out of this Goddess-forsaken dining room. Before we made it halfway to the door, however, Roman’s voice pierced the silence.

“I trust you’ll… rectify her poor behavior before our next meeting,” Roman mused, cruelty laced in every word. “Otherwise, I’ll be forced to take sweet Aria’s discipline into my own hands. ”

Malik stiffened. His lips pulled into a silent snarl as he slowly turned to face his brother.

The room went still, and every occupant seemed to collectively hold their breath. Throughout the entire evening, Malik dipped his head and accepted Roman’s abuse. But the moment Roman turned his threats toward me, Malik’s control hung on a precarious thread.

The two males stared at each other, and several beats passed before I realized that they were having a silent conversation between them. And though I had no idea what was being said, a flicker of fear passed over Roman’s features.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two of Roman’s guards shift closer to us, undoubtedly prepared to leap to their alpha’s defense if the need arose. Malik could easily fight his brother and win, but if another opponent joined the fray…

I wrapped my hand around his wrist, hyper-aware of the pound of his pulse against my palm. His skin was hot—feverish.

“Malik,” I whispered, tightening my grip. He didn’t move. “Malik, please. Let’s go home.”

He released a ragged breath, the muscles in his jaw rippling beneath his scruff. For several long moments, he held his brother’s gaze, before, at last, he took a backward step toward the exit. Then another. I trailed after him. He never turned his back on Roman until we entered the empty hallway.

As soon as we were out of the pack house and on the shadowed path away from the monstrous structure, he pulled his arm out of my grasp, only to tug me into his chest in an impassioned embrace. I gasped but recovered quickly, standing on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured against his chest, resting my forehead against the hollow between his pectorals. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed him. I was just so angry?—”

Malik silenced me with a hand in my hair, gently tugging on the strands at the base of my neck to coax my head backward, away from his chest. I complied, tipping my chin up so that I might look in his eyes.

The pupil in his good eye dilated until the gray became the darkest shade of graphite. His gaze trickled to my mouth, then back to my eyes again. His heart still thundered against his ribcage, practically vibrating into my own chest, and I sensed that he wanted— needed— to kiss me again.

Our kiss before dinner had been short. Truthfully, Malik pulled away before I truly knew what was happening, but that didn’t take away from the beauty of it. In fact, that small, tender peck meant more to me than I could’ve ever put to words.

Now though, Malik’s gaze held a certain ferocity that warned of brimming need and lapsing control. If he kissed me now, it wouldn’t be gentle. And, Goddess, I didn’t want gentle.

He shifted forward, our breaths mingling, and I held painstakingly still to allow him to take the lead.

Even so, my eyes roamed to his mouth as he bent closer.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the look on his face was some combination of fervent lust and uncertainty.

Anticipation curled into a tight ball in my belly.

Flames spread through my veins, sending warmth to my core.

When his mouth met mine, I nearly moaned in relief.

He paused, our lips pressed hesitantly against one another’s. I half-expected him to pull away again, but he pressed his lips firmly against mine. My eyes fell closed, and, this time, I couldn’t contain the soft, breathless noise that bubbled up my throat.

That only encouraged him. His grip on my hair tightened, fisting my locks to tilt my head back and ease his access to my lips. His lips were impossibly soft, with a small ridge where the bottom of his scar met the corner of his mouth.

Malik experimented. He kissed me firm and deep, then withdrew to brush against my bottom lip before pressing again .

I clutched at his shirt, my fingers curling into the fabric and scraping against his muscled chest to draw him closer. My movements must’ve sparked something in him, for his tongue boldly swept across the seam of my lips. They opened on instinct.

His tongue breached my mouth in a tentative stroke, and a spark of electricity shot straight between my legs. I clamped them together to satiate the sudden warmth.

I exhaled, passing breath from my mouth to his as I surrendered to his exploration.

Though I didn’t have experience, my body knew what to do in response to every touch.

My own tongue tangled with his, meeting every thrust and sweep in a sinful, erotic dance.

I wanted to weep from happiness. From the sheer rightness of this moment.

When he pulled away, our breaths came in ragged pants. Our chests expanded and contracted in rapid gasps, and I was faintly certain I could feel his erection, thick and long, pressing into my stomach.

Oh Goddess. I swayed forward, pressing my hips tighter against his hard body. It took no small amount of effort to refrain from wiggling in search of friction between my legs.

We were outside. A stone’s throw away from the pack house and countless shifters finishing their dinner party.

“Malik—” His name was a breathless plea. “Take me back to the cottage.”