Chapter 4

Alexander:

The moment her hand moved, every instinct I possessed noticed it. She was fast. Not trained, not disciplined, but undeniably fast. Her fingers sliced through the air, aiming directly for my face with a force that would have surprised most men.

I didn’t flinch, I caught her wrist only inches before her palm could connect with my cheek.

The room fell into absolute silence.

She stared at me, breath uneven, her chest rising and falling beneath the plain gray servant’s dress she had insisted on wearing instead of the gown Helena had prepared. Her amber eyes burned with fury. Not fear. Not submission. Fury.

For several moments, neither of us spoke. Then a small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

She blinked, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

I couldn’t remember the last time someone had tried to strike me. Years, perhaps decades. Most people couldn’t even meet my gaze without trembling. Yet this slave, the very first thing she had done after entering my chambers was attempt to slap me.

A low chuckle escaped me.

She frowned. “What’s so funny? You have clearly lost your mind.”

I looked at the hand still trapped in mine. “You.” Her brows knitted together. “You attempted to assault your Alpha, and I am the one who lost my mind? I really am starting to grow curious about the way your mind works.”

“You don’t get to ask questions about how my mind works.” She snapped, making me raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t sound remorseful.” I stated casually.

“I’m not.” She snapped. “I wouldn’t have attempted it to just look for mercy once done.”

Another smile threatened to surface. This woman… she was unlike anyone I had ever met.

I released her wrist. She immediately stepped back, putting distance between us, rubbing her wrist as though deciding whether she should try again.

“I have to admit,” I said, “you are… something.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve met warriors with less courage.” I said casually as I turned to walk toward the fireplace.

“Courage?” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “You think this is courage?”

“What would you call it?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Common sense.”

That answer caught me off guard. “Common sense? Slapping the Alpha who can actually have your life in an instant… you call that common sense?”

She folded her arms. “If someone buys people like cattle, I think they deserve worse than a slap.”

There it was, the fire. Unfiltered and untamed. Most slaves learned quickly to hide their thoughts. Serena practically threw hers at my face.

My wolf stirred. She isn’t afraid of us.

“She is angry,” I muttered. “That is a fine difference,’

I walked toward my desk and leaned casually against its edge. “You know who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are.” She said, looking me dead in the eye, choosing not to pretend.

“And yet you still raised your hand against me.”

“And I would do it again if I get the chance.” Her honesty was almost refreshing.

I studied her more closely. The physicians’ report had mentioned scars, and they hadn’t exaggerated. Thin white lines crossed her forearms. A faded burn marked her shoulder. Her hands were rough, shaped by years of labor.

She held herself differently from the other women Helena usually presented. They entered with lowered heads. She stood straight despite everything, even now, even after attempting to strike the Alpha of Petrova.

“I should punish you.” The words hung in the air.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Then do it. I’ve endured far worse than whatever you can throw.”

I found that strangely irritating. “You believe that’s what I want?”

“I don’t know what you want.” She said, glaring at me. “All I know is that men like you enjoy punishing women for their pleasure. So, by all means… go on.”

“I asked Helena to bring you here.”

“Did you manage to inspect the newest purchase?” She asked, pouting sarcastically. “I hope that I was to your liking?” She rolled her eyes at me before looking away.

“Tell me something, Serena.”  I said, crossing my arms over my chest, choosing to play this differently. “When everyone else lowered their heads…” My eyes held hers. “…why didn’t you?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Because if I keep looking at the floor, I’ll eventually forget what it’s like to look people in the eye.”

For the first time in many years, I found myself without an immediate response. Most people answered with fear, duty, or obedience. She answered with dignity, the kind no chain could strip away.

A slow smile returned to my face. “You continue to surprise me.”

Her expression hardened instantly. “Stop smiling… it makes me want to punch you in the gut.”

The confession escaped her before she could stop it, and the smirk that formed on my lips was enough to make her eyes widen. And, against all reason, I laughed.

Serena only looked more irritated. “I fail to see what’s amusing.”

“You keep threatening me.” I said, taking a step toward her. “And it seems to me that you are going to be a handful here.”

“I’m thinking about doing more than threatening.” She said, and I nodded.

“I don’t doubt it.” I said casually. “I find it almost refreshing… at least I get to see a little fire here and there.”

“Well, don’t get too used to it. You never know when it is going to hit you in the face.”

“Oh, I am expecting it to.” I said calmly. “And I will be more than willing to catch and stop it each and every fucking time.”

She glared at me so fiercely I almost expected her to try and slap me again. Instead, she clenched her fists at her sides, every muscle taut with restrained anger.

Everything about Serena was painfully and recklessly honest.

And somehow, that made her far more dangerous than any warrior who had ever stood before me.

“Show yourself out,” I said, turning toward my bar. “And the next time I see you, I will expect you to be wearing the dress I choose.”

I expected her to walk out in silence, at least, to spare herself more trouble… but of course, I was wrong…

“Over my dead fucking body…”