Chapter 2

Irene’s POV

I gasped against his grip, my fingers wrapping around his wrist. "I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here."

The words tumbled out in a rush but his hand didn't loosen. If anything, his fingers tightened, not enough to truly hurt but enough to make my pulse hammer against his palm.

"That's not what I asked." His voice rumbled through the quiet space and I swallowed tightly.

I should have been terrified yet beneath the fear, a strange pull in my chest was tugging me toward him and I could not explain it.

He stepped closer, and the moonlight fell fully across his face.

My breath caught again. He was truly devastating with cheekbones that could have been carved from marble, and a strong jaw shadowed with stubble.

His dark hair fell across his forehead, and even in the dim light, I could see the raw power radiating from him.

I had heard the stories about the cold-blooded conqueror who crushed his enemies without mercy and who hadn't smiled in years.

I was sold to the palace a year ago, but I had never seen him. I made sure of it by always hiding in the shadows and keeping to the darkest corners where eyes wouldn't find me.

Now he had his hand around my throat.

"What's your name?" His thumb pressed against my racing pulse.

"I-Irene," I stammered. "I'm just a maid, Your Majesty. I didn't mean to intrude on your quiet time."

"Irene.” He repeated, tilting his head to the side. His other hand came up, fingers trailing along my jaw.

My skin burned where he touched me and heat flooded through my body, pooling low in my belly in a way that made shame wash over me.

What was wrong with me? This man could kill me with a thought, and here I was, my traitorous body responding to his nearness.

I hated myself for it.

"Your scent," he murmured, leaning closer. His nose brushed against my neck, just below my ear, and I felt his sharp inhale. "It's..."

His canines grazed my skin and I went rigid, a sound escaping my throat that was partly a gasp and a moan.

My hands were still on his wrist, but I wasn't pushing him away anymore. I was holding on, my fingers digging into the expensive fabric of his sleeve.

“Sweet.” He whispered, running his tongue against my skin and I trembled, my lips parting but not sound coming out.

Despite how this went against everything I stood for, I didn’t want to run because gods help me. Some twisted part of me wanted him to keep going.

A sharp knock shattered the moment.

"Your Majesty?" A voice called from outside. "They're waiting for your speech."

Alastair pulled back immediately, releasing my throat. We both stood there, chests heaving, breathing hard like we'd been running.

I pressed myself back against the wall, my legs trembling and I became acutely aware of the dampness between my thighs.

His nostrils flared and I knew without a doubt that he could smell my arousal.

But he said nothing about it. His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping beneath his skin.

"I'll be there," he called out, his voice perfectly controlled. Nothing like the rough edge it had held moments before.

He looked at me one last time, those storm-grey eyes scanning my face like he was memorizing it. Then he growled and stormed past me, slamming the door behind him.

I stood there for a long moment, my knees weak. Then I grabbed the edge of a table to steady myself, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold on.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I whispered viciously to myself. "Acting like some wanton…"

I couldn't even finish the thought as disgust curled in my stomach, mixing with the lingering heat.

I had responded to him like... like one of those desperate girls who threw themselves at powerful males hoping for scraps of attention.

I forced myself upright, smoothing down my rumpled uniform. My cap had fallen off during the encounter so I snatched it up, shoving it back over my hair.

I needed to get back to work before someone noticed I was missing.

The hallway was empty when I slipped out and I made my way back to the ballroom on unsteady legs.

The celebration was still going on as if nothing had happened. I scanned the crowd quickly but that beta wolf and his friends were nowhere to be seen.

Good. Maybe he had left to get his nose fixed.

"There you are." The head maid's hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around. Her face was pinched with fury. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Striking a guest?"

I gritted my teeth. Did she not even care for my side of the story? “He touched me inappropriately, ma’am.”

"I don't care if he set you on fire!" she hissed. "You do not hit the guests." She leaned in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "Two nights in the dark room, maybe that will teach you to control yourself."

My stomach dropped when she said that. The dark room was a storage cellar beneath the kitchens with no windows or light, there was nothing but stone walls and rats and.

Two nights felt like an eternity.

"Please," I whispered, but her expression told me there was no point in begging.

"After the King's speech," she snapped. "Then you go straight there. Understood?"

I nodded without a word, dread settling over me like a heavy cloak.

She released me with a shove, and I stumbled back into line with the other servants along the wall. We stood at attention, waiting, as the music lowered and the crowd began to settle.

Then he appeared.

Alastair Black strode onto the raised platform at the far end of the ballroom, and my entire body went hot.

He looked completely composed now, his broad shoulders striking in a black jacket that probably cost more than I would earn in ten lifetimes.

"Thank you all for celebrating with me tonight," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly through the space. "Our latest victory marks another step toward a unified territory."

There was a loud applause but I barely heard it over the rushing in my ears.

"However, I have another announcement." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "I've decided it's time to secure my bloodline."

Murmurs rippled through the ballroom and beside me, another maid gasped softly.

"I will be choosing a breeder," Alastair continued. "Someone to carry my heir."

The murmurs grew louder, and even the servants around me were whispering frantically.

My stomach twisted and I shook my head in pity. Whoever the unlucky girl was, I silently sent my consolations to her.

Everyone knew the fate that awaited breeders and it was never anything good.

"My breeder is here," he said. "In this room."

The ballroom erupted in barely contained chaos, there were excited whispers, speculative glances, and ambitious eyes searching around.

Alastair descended from the stage, and the crowd parted before him like water. He was walking toward where the servants stood.

The girls around me started fidgeting, whispering excitedly.

"Do you think he’s coming here?" Juliet asked, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Maybe he'll choose one of us!" Another interjected.

Juliet gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh gods, what if it's me?"

I watched in confusion as he kept coming, his eyes fixed somewhere in our line.

There’s no way he would choose a servant as a breeder. That made no sense. He was probably walking past us to reach someone in the crowd behind-

He stopped directly in front of me and my heart stopped beating.

"You," Alastair Black said, his steel-grey eyes boring into mine. "I choose you as my breeder."