22

Tarian POV

The private jet glided through the clouds at thirty-thousand feet, the engines doing nothing to soothe the pounding headache building behind my eyes. I sat in the leather captain’s chair, completely buried under a mountain of pack financial audits and territorial reports, deliberately establishing a wall of distance between myself and the woman sitting across the aisle.

And by woman, she is one who must not be named.

I wished my mother hadn’t coerced me into bringing her along. The emotional blackmail before we left had been insufferable.

I leaned back, resting my chin on my knuckle as my dark eyes drifted toward Livyana. I watched her closely, my brow furrowing as I noted several strange, glaring inconsistencies. She was fidgeting constantly with the conservative collar of her dress, tugging at the lace as if it were suffocating her. She moved with an unusual, restless nervous energy, bouncing her leg subtly against the carpet—completely lacking the meek, quiet stillness my mother had always praised her for.

Why is she acting so strangely? I thought, my jaw clenching.

Before I could dwell on it, the aircraft suddenly lurked downward. The jet shook violently as severe atmospheric turbulence slammed into us over the Alps.

Livia gasped, skipping towards me. I don’t know why I feel it was an act of primal panic, she threw herself across the narrow aisle and grabbed my forearm with a vice-like grip.

The instant her bare skin made contact with mine, an unexpected, violent jolt of electricity shot straight up my arm and coursed through my chest. My wolf growled low in my mind, rearing its head at the sudden surge of raw physical attraction that flared between us.

Deeply irritated by the sudden spark, I snapped my arm back, roughly shoving her hands off me.

“Is this your first time on a plane?!” I chided her harshly, glaring at her pale face. “Must you be so incredibly clumsy and dramatic over minor atmospheric bumps?”

Livia clutched her hands to her racing heart, her dark eyes wide with terror. “Yes! It is my first time! And I am not about to die on my very first experience!” She practically moaned out the next words, leaning toward me again, “Save me, my lord!”

“Touch me again and I’ll throw you off this aircraft myself,” I growled, pushing her back into her seat just as the plane stabilized.

She huffed, pulling her skirts around her legs and glaring out the window for the remainder of the flight.

An hour later, a private black town car deposited us at the entrance of Lake Geneva’s most exclusive luxury resort. I marched into the master suite expecting a standard business setup, only to stop dead in my tracks at the threshold.

I must be in the wrong place. I had called the front desk to reconfirm and they said this was the paid suite.

The entire suite was a horrific, more like a sickening display of romantic propaganda. Fresh red rose petals covered the silk rugs, flickering scented candles lined the fireplace, and a silver tray holding champagne, dark chocolates, and strawberries sat prominently on the central table.

“What on earth is the meaning of this?” I muttered to myself in absolute disgust.

Before I could pull out my phone to demand answers from my security detail, a stunning-looking Beta woman dressed in a crisp corporate suit stepped out from the adjoining terrace. She held a leather binder against her chest and offered us a wide, professional smile.

“Good day, Alpha Tarian, Luna Livyana,” she greeted smoothly. “My name is Celia. I am your assigned senior honeymoon guide, and on behalf of the resort, I would like to officially welcome you both to your luxury honeymoon experience!”

I stared at her with utter disdain and profound confusion. “Honeymoon?”

Celia’s smile didn’t waver. “Yes, Your Highness! Courtesy of Queen Mother Raychel of May Town.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a long, deep breath to keep from roaring aloud in the middle of the lobby. Celia stepped forward, pulling a gold-embossed envelope from her binder and handing it to me.

“Her Majesty requested that I hand this to you personally upon your arrival,” Celia chimed in, looking completely incapable of reading the tension radiating off me.

I ripped the envelope open and unfolded the parchment.

My dearest Tarian, my mother’s elegant handwriting read. Forgive me for deceiving you into believing there was an urgent pack business emergency in Ganeva. You would have never left the packhouse otherwise. Use this time to unwind, get to know your beloved wife better, and give me a grandchild. Do not dare return to May Town early.

I held my breath, my fingers crushing the edges of the paper as I fought to quell the explosive rage boiling in my blood. I refused to give this Beta woman the satisfaction of watching an Alpha King lose his temper.

Celia bowed politely. “I will leave you two to settle in. Your welcome dinner is scheduled for seven o’clock this evening.” She turned and exited the suite, closing the doors behind her.

Livia walked past the threshold of the master suite, her eyes widening in genuine shock as the rich scent of roses and cocoa filled the air like it did mine. She reached out to touch a crystal glass of champagne resting on the welcome tray, but I cut her off before her fingers could even touch the glass stem.

“Don’t get comfortable,” I snapped coldly, tossing my briefcase on the velvet armchair.

I unbuttoned my suit jacket, tossing it aside and turning to glare at her with cold eyes.

“You might have tricked my mother into sending us to Switzerland,” I growled, taking a threatening step toward her, “but if you think for a single second that a few rose petals and scented candles are going to make me lay a hand on you, you are severely, utterly mistaken.”

Livia blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. “Wait... your mother arranged all of this?!”

I scoffed, ignoring her question entirely because I wasn’t buying into her surprised bullshit for a single second. She was probably in on the entire scheme with my mother from the very beginning.

Livia’s eyes narrowed, the sweet, submissive facade she usually wore slipping away for a brief, dangerous second.

“Well,” she began, mockingly sweet edge entering her voice, “you already tried to lay your hands on me back home and ended up sick on the floor, didn’t you?”

My jaw locked, my eyes narrowing into slits.

“We might as well just pretend through this honeymoon...” Livia continued. She straightened her spine instantly, her knuckles turning white as she fought to keep her lips from trembling under the weight of my crushing Alpha aura, “...and see how far this gets us, my darling husband.”

I stared down at her, the room rife with silence. “You are playing a very dangerous game, Livyana,” I warned, my voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “And I suggest you learn your place before this trip is over.”