23

ALINA

The longer we stayed in the car, the more nervous I got.

It wasn’t just the silence, or how long the drive was. It was him. Being alone with Alexander was like sitting beside a ticking bomb you couldn’t disarm. One that smirked occasionally and didn’t bother hiding the fact that it could blow at any second.

We’d been driving for hours, and it didn’t look like he planned to stop anytime soon. My bladder was full, painfully so, but there was no way I was going to tell him. I had thought about it, maybe whispering that I needed a bathroom but every time I almost opened my mouth, the image of that young wolf flashed behind my eyes.

The one from yesterday. The one who dropped lifeless to the ground.

I kept picturing myself lying beside the road, lifeless and probably missing an organ or two. Like my heart. Or my tongue.

So no, silence was the safer option. If I exploded from holding it in, then so be it. Better to be internally stabbed by urine than externally dismembered by him.

“Stop that.”

I jumped at the sound of his voice. It was low and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

My head snapped toward him. “S-sorry,” I stuttered, unsure what exactly I was apologizing for.

He hadn’t said much since his last question. Maybe he gave up trying. My voice always went wobbly and high whenever he asked me anything. Probably why he drove the rest of the way in complete silence.

I assumed we were going to his castle in hell. I didn’t recognize anything outside the window. Not that I’d been anywhere before. I had never stepped foot outside the camp until now.

“I said stop,” he hissed again, grabbing a handful of my thigh in a punishing grip.

His hand was hot. Scalding, even. I flinched from the contact, my legs freezing under his touch. The heat from his skin felt unnatural, like he was burning from the inside out.

Which would make sense. He was probably one of hell’s top-ranking demons. Maybe even Lucifer himself. That would explain the internal fire.

“If you want me to cut your leg off, just say the words.”

He said it softly. So softly, it almost sounded like a love confession if you ignored the threat.

Only then did I realize what he was talking about.

I looked down. My leg had been bouncing uncontrollably, my knee jumping from nerves and the need to pee. I hadn’t even noticed. But clearly, he had.

Well, if he was looking for someone to blame, maybe he should look in a mirror.

If I hadn’t been so scared of him, I would’ve said something about needing a bathroom ages ago. But no, he had to behave like a homicidal maniac. So now here we were, him threatening to amputate me for something that was technically his fault.

He gave my thigh one last squeeze before letting go.

I looked down, half-expecting to see a burnt palm print seared into my skin. I was wearing jeans, but it genuinely felt like he had touched me bare. That’s how hot his hand was.

I didn’t even know that level of heat was possible through denim.

The car jerked to a stop.

I lifted my eyes slowly, bracing myself for what he brought me to. A torture chamber? A slaughterhouse?

It was a gas station.

That was… unexpected.

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in my chest. Maybe I could use the restroom. Maybe I wouldn’t die of bladder rupture after all.

“You have two minutes to do your business and get back out here,” he said without looking at me.

I didn’t need to be told twice.

My hand shot to the door handle, but before I could open it, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked me back.

My breath caught.

“I’ll be here,” he said with a smile that should’ve been illegal. “If you try anything funny, I’ll give you a taste of who I really am.”

Then he let go and gave a small nod.

I didn’t wait. I flew out of the car like hell was chasing me.

I peed faster than I ever had in my life. Barely even remembered sitting down. While washing my hands, my brain,which clearly had a death wish, reminded me of his threat.

The suicidal part of me wondered if escape was possible. The world was big. So many cities. So many people. I could get lost. Maybe even start over.

But then reality set in.

He wasn’t just any Lycan. He was the Lycan. The Wolf Slayer. The one even Lycans feared. No one would help me. The moment they found out who I was running from, I’d be served to him on a silver platter.

I left the bathroom and saw him still sitting in the car, eyes closed, head leaned back like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not a single ounce of tension in his body. Like no one would dare lay a hand on him.

You probably needed that level of confidence to be who he was.

As soon as I got close to the car, his eyes snapped open and landed on me with laser focus. He straightened, arms folding across his chest.

“Thinking of killing me, love?”

I froze. My hands clenched at my sides.

I shook my head quickly. “N-no.”

He smiled, as if the idea itself was ridiculous.

“Good. Get in.”

I obeyed immediately, climbing into the passenger seat with a muttered apology under my breath.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said. “Either you smile and act like you have more brain power than you do, or you stay quiet and don’t tempt me into snapping your neck.”

I widened my eyes, nodding like my life depended on it. Which, unfortunately, it kind of did.

He smirked. “Good girl.”

Something fluttered in my stomach again.

No. Absolutely not. Whatever that was needed to go away. Immediately.

“Make me look good in front of the council, and I’ll reward you,” he added, meeting my gaze like it was a challenge then he smirked and added. “No pressure.”

Right. No pressure at all.

Just perform perfectly in front of a panel of powerful Lycans, avoid dying, and make the Wolf Slayer look good.

Also, I had to remember to keep my wolf a secret. M

Easy peasy.