Chapter 5: Frozen Moment

Dahlia’s P.O.V

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat, as I feel the undeniable hardness pressing against my hand. My entire body locks up, my mind screaming at me to move, to pull away, to pretend this never happened. But I can't. My fingers stay where they are, almost as if they're bound by an invisible force, as if something in me refuses to let go.

A deep, strangled sound rumbles from his chest, and I finally dare to lower my gaze. 

Oh, God. 

The Alpha King’s massive erection strains against the fabric of his trousers, thick and long, its shape pressing insistently into my palm. Heat spreads through my face like wildfire, burning up my skin, leaving me mortified, confused—ashamed, even. I shouldn’t be feeling this. I shouldn’t be reacting this way. And yet, my body betrays me. A sharp pulse of arousal rushes through me, pooling low in my belly, making my thighs press together involuntarily. 

What the hell is wrong with me? 

I bite down on my lower lip, hard enough that I taste copper, desperate to ground myself, to snap out of this insanity. But my body has already made its decision, regardless of what my mind wants. All this time, I had been married to an unfaithful man, had spent years enduring his cold touch, his selfish, lifeless affections. Never once had he made me feel even a fraction of what I’m feeling now—just from an erection I haven’t even seen. 

The thought alone makes me shudder. 

I try to pull back, but his fingers tighten around my wrist, firm yet unhurried. Not forceful, but enough to keep me there, enough to let me know he feels it too. My eyes snap up to his face, and my stomach clenches at what I see. Those green eyes, darkened with something primal, bore into me, searching, reading, knowing. He knows. He can scent my arousal, can probably hear the way my heart is hammering against my ribs like a caged bird. 

"You feel it too," he murmurs, his voice low, rough, entirely too sure. 

I shake my head, but it’s a lie. A terrible, obvious lie. 

Because, God help me, I do.

The scent of my arousal fills the air, thick and intoxicating, wrapping around me like a sinful temptation. Alpha Killian lets out a low growl, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, almost like a moan. It shatters whatever spell had bound me, snapping me back to reality with a sharp jolt. My eyes widen in horror as realization crashes over me—I am still straddling him, my hand gripping the taut muscles of his shoulder, while the other is still on his crotch, my breaths coming out in ragged gasps. Heat floods my face, shame settling in my bones like an unbearable weight. How could I have let this happen? How could I have lost control so recklessly in front of him, of all people? 

Before I can scramble to fix this humiliating situation, a cold voice cuts through the tension like a blade. 

“Get off the Alpha King. Immediately.” 

Beta Damien’s tone is clipped, disapproving. His sharp gaze pierces through me, his expression a mixture of shock and something else—something unreadable but entirely unwelcome. My mortification triples. How long have I been like this? How long has he been watching? My heart pounds in my chest, my entire body screaming at me to move, to fix this before I make an even bigger fool of myself. 

I push against Killian’s chest, desperate to put distance between us, but before I can fully lift myself off him, his hands close around my wrists. Firm. Commanding. Unyielding. 

“Stay,” he murmurs, voice dark and filled with something I can’t quite decipher. 

I freeze. My body betrays me, obeying his order even as my mind screams at me to resist. My breath catches as he shifts beneath me slightly, his grip never loosening. Slowly, almost lazily, he turns his head toward Damien, his eyes dark and dangerous, filled with a warning that sends a shiver down my spine. 

“Get out,” Killian commands, his voice steady, unshaken, carrying the weight of absolute authority. 

Damien hesitates for only a second, his jaw tightening before he bows his head in forced submission. “As you wish, Alpha,” he murmurs before turning sharply on his heel and disappearing through the door, shutting it behind him.

The door shut with a resounding click, sealing me in with Killian, and in that instant, my confusion swelled, clashing violently with the embarrassment heating my skin.

The silence that follows is deafening. I can feel the heat of Killian’s gaze burning into me, feel the tension crackling in the air like a live wire. My pulse races, every nerve in my body hyper-aware of just how close we are. His hands are still on me, still holding me in place. My body is still traitorously responding to his nearness, to his scent, to the raw, unchecked power that radiates off him in waves. 

“I—” My voice falters. I swallow hard, trying to find the words, trying to make sense of what just happened. 

His fingers move then, tracing the inside of my wrist, slow and deliberate. “You’re trembling,” he observes, his tone quieter now, but no less intense. 

I yank my hands back as if burned, my face flaming as I scramble off his lap, nearly stumbling in my haste. “This was a mistake,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, my head spinning with emotions I don’t want to name. 

Killian watches me, his expression unreadable, his green eyes holding a storm I can’t begin to decipher. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he leans back, exhaling slowly, his lips curving into something dangerously close to a smirk. 

“If it was a mistake,” he muses, his voice smooth as silk, “then why do you look like you want to do it again?” 

My breath catches, my throat tightening. I have no answer to that. Because the truth—the one I refuse to admit, even to myself—is far too dangerous.

‘What the hell just happened?’ But I barely had time to form the thought before Killian moved.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping firmly around the nape of my neck, his grip both commanding and possessive. A gasp tore from my lips, but before I could say a word, he yanked me forward, closing the space between us in one swift pull. And then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw, unyielding—his lips brushed against mine, a firestorm of hunger and dominance that stole the breath from my lungs. My fingers dug into his arms, caught somewhere between pushing him away and pulling him closer.