Chapter 20 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN PART ONE
ALORA
I stand outside his study door, my hand raised to knock, but I can't make myself do it. Every instinct screams at me to run. To shift and bolt for the border before he can corner me with more questions I can't answer.
But my wolf won't let me. She's drawn to this door, to him, like a moth to flame.
"I can hear your heartbeat from here, little wolf," his voice calls through the wood. "Stop stalling."
I push the door open slowly. He's standing by the window, backlit by afternoon sun that turns his dark hair silver at the edges. He doesn't turn around.
"Close the door."
I obey, the click of the latch sounding like a death sentence.
"Come here."
My feet carry me forward until I'm standing behind his desk, close enough to smell pine and smoke. Close enough to feel the power rolling off him in waves.
"The boy's doing well," he says conversationally, like we're discussing the weather. "Doctor says he's never seen a break heal so fast. Already reduced swelling, minimal bruising. Almost miraculous."
I keep my eyes down, my hands clasped behind my back in proper slave posture. "I'm glad he's recovering, my Lord."
"Are you?" He turns finally, and those silver eyes pin me in place. "Or did you already know he would recover quickly? Because of what you did to him?"
"I didn't do anything except hold his hand."
"There's that lie again." He moves closer, circling me slowly. "We've talked about lying to me, haven't we?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And yet you persist." He stops behind me, close enough that his breath stirs my hair. "Why is that, little wolf? What are you so desperate to hide?"
Everything. My wolf. My healing. The heat building inside me grows stronger every day. The way my body responds to his nearness despite my terror.
"I'm wolfless," I whisper. "There's nothing to hide."
His laugh is dark. "Such a pretty lie. You almost believe it yourself." His hand slides into my hair, not pulling, just holding. "But I've decided something."
My pulse races. "My Lord?"
"You're no longer just another slave." His grip tightens slightly. "As of today, you're my personal attendant. You'll stay in the chambers beside mine. You'll serve only me. You'll go nowhere without my permission."
Ice floods my veins. "But Master Kane said I was meant for the kitchens—"
"I don't care what Master Kane said." He releases my hair, moving around to face me. "I'm keeping you close, little wolf. Where I can watch you. Where I can discover exactly what you're hiding."
This is worse than punishment. Worse than any discipline. Being near him constantly, fighting my wolf's pull toward him, hiding my true nature under his scrutinizing gaze—it's impossible.
"Please," the word escapes before I can stop it. "Please don't."
His expression shifts, something almost like surprise crossing his features. "Why not? Most slaves would be honored by such a position."
Because I can't lie to you when you're that close. Because my wolf wants to submit to you. Because being near you makes me forget why I need to hide.
"I'm not worthy of such honor, my Lord."
"Let me decide what you're worthy of." He cups my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Your new duties start immediately. You'll attend me at meals, handle my correspondence, and prepare my chambers." His thumb brushes my lower lip. "And you'll answer my questions. All of them."
"I've told you everything—"
"No." The word comes out sharp. "You've told me nothing but carefully constructed lies. But that ends now." He releases me, moving back to his desk. "Sarah will show you to your new quarters. Be ready to serve dinner in two hours."
I recognize a dismissal when I hear one. I bow and turn to leave.
"Alora."
I freeze at the door.
"Don't think about running. I've tripled the border patrols. And if you somehow make it past them..." His voice drops lower. "I'll hunt you myself. And when I catch you—and I will catch you—the punishment will be far worse than anything you're imagining right now."
I flee before he can see the tears burning my eyes.
ALEX
I watch her go, my wolf snarling at me for scaring her. But she needs to understand—running isn't an option anymore. Whatever she's hiding, whoever's hunting her, she's safer here. Under my protection.
Under my control.
Marcus enters without knocking. "I heard about your new arrangement."
"Did you come here to lecture me?"
"Would it do any good?" He drops into a chair. "The pack's talking, Alex. Keeping a slave this close, showing her such favoritism—it looks weak."
"Let them talk." I pour myself a drink, the whiskey burning down my throat. "Anyone who has a problem with my decisions can challenge me."
"No one's going to challenge you. They're just confused. Victoria's spreading rumors that the slave has bewitched you somehow."
I laugh darkly. "Maybe she has."
"Alex—"
"Did you find anything else in the Mitchell records?"
He sighs, recognizing when I'm done discussing something. "Nothing concrete. But their pack doctor resigned six months before Alora was given up. No explanation, no forwarding address. Just disappeared."
"Someone who knew too much."
"That's what I'm thinking." Marcus leans forward. "Whatever the Mitchells were hiding, it was big enough to scare off their pack doctor."
"Find him," I ordered. "I want to know what he knows."
After he leaves, I return to the window. Somewhere out there, my little blood-wolf is settling into her new quarters. Learning that her world just got significantly smaller.
Good.
Let her understand that she belongs to me now. Every breath, every moment, every secret.
My phone buzzes with a message from my Northern contact:
Price on blood-wolf just doubled. Multiple Alphas forming hunting parties.
I delete the message and dial Marcus.
"Double the patrols again," I order when he answers. "And I want eyes on every pack within a hundred miles."
Let them come. Let every Alpha in five territories try to take what's mine.
They'll learn why they call me the Beast.