Chapter Two: An Intruder

Cataleya

“You all wouldn't mind me crashing the party, would you?”

My eyes widen in mortification, my lips parting in sheer horror as my body grows stiff in Zane’s arms.

The devil himself, donning an all-black three piece suit. The dark material hugs his huge muscular frame, stretching against his taut, firm muscles. It looks as though it's tailored specifically for him. He saunters into the ballroom like he owns the damn place, down to every ounce of air in the room.

The guards stand at alert, cocking their rifles. Their stiff, rigid frames show that they were waiting for the slightest reaction that gave off the threat he emanates to release fire.

Like that will even work or take him out. Threatening growls and snarls ripple through the room, heightening the tension that hangs thickly in the air.

“What the fuck is he even doing here?” Zane's hold on me hardens, turning flat out protective as he growls the words out harshly like he's one second away from ripping his head off.

For once, I agree with Zane. What the hell is he doing here? How did he even breach the Pack’s borders? We have one of the tightest security profiles in the city, last I checked. Dread instantly fills me at the thought of the pile of dead bodies that must have dropped in his path before he got here.

“Come on, all that wolf hostility doesn't work on me and you should know that by now.” The sides of his lips tilt in a psychotic grin. His eyes travel around the room, glinting with the subtle threat of going off on anyone who dares to cross his path.

My eyes dart across the room, relief washing over me when I spot my mother, who struggles to contain her fear, in the arms of my younger brother.

“You have one second to state the reason you trespassed on my land like you fucking own it.” My father seethes silently, his voice maintaining an edgy undertone.

“Ah,” he chuckles in recognition, “and there's the man I'm looking for.” He announces.

Why is he looking for my father?

“Loosen up everyone, I'm not looking to stir up trouble.” He says so casually like trouble literally doesn't follow him everywhere he goes. “I just want to have a little chat, Conan.” The unending fascination in his dark eyes doesn't diminish and it causes a shudder to snake up my spine.

My father doesn't look away from him for a second, then he glances around like he's trying to assure his guests that he has everything under control.

“Don't worry. You can take some of your little guards with you.” He smirks, obvious that he's enjoying this a little too much.

“I don't need anyone accompanying me. I can take you.” My father replies instantly, outraged that he's belittling his strength.

My breath quickens when he strolls further into the room, his muscular, imposing frame eating up the spacious room with the darkness he wears as an aura, leaving a lingering threat in his wake. I flush against Zane, welcoming the support he has to offer at that moment. I look away from him, my eyes fixed on Zane's tux before going on to catch his back view as he trails after my father to a less crowded space.

“Excuse me,” I pull away from Zane, rushing towards my mom. “Mother,” I breathe out, my body pressing against hers in a hug.

My head tilts backwards to catch the apprehension swirling in her dark brown eyes. Her blonde hair, a similar shade to mine is secured tightly into a bun just like mine, her face caked in a subtle makeover. The midnight blue dress she's wearing compliments her petite frame, giving her the appearance of a stunning Luna.

“Your father's a strong man. Everything will be fine.” She assures me, but it doesn't do anything to ease my nerves.

“You go on to join your Fiancé. I'll take care of mother.” Calix tells me, grabbing onto mother's arm. His dark blue eyes, just like father's are pinned on me, are a little soft but stern.

It's his way of telling me to get back to acting like the perfect little daughter I have been trained to be.

I nod slightly.

The music cues in immediately, filling the air like a threat hadn't just waltzed in a few seconds ago. I bit back a scoff. Fucking aristocrats. Always so vain and never wanting to show signs of weakness even if it means partying in the midst of chaos.

I grimace, my eyes softening when I catch Seth's worried ones. I quickly look away from him, not wanting to arouse suspicion.

I knew this party was a recipe for disaster. But what I didn't expect was Malakai Antarez, the ruthless lycan Alpha showing up.

Malakai Antarez is everywhere and nowhere at the same time because growing up, I have always been aware of the intense enmity between wolves and Lycans. I grew to hate them too, yet I was convinced that they were probably a myth because they were very hard to come by. Almost nonexistent, even.

Maybe it would have been better if he were just a bloodthirsty bastard who hunts wolves for sports alone. But he wasn't. Malakai is regarded as the king of the underworld because of his shady dealings and illegal connections as an overly terrifying Don. He's not just a man with blood on his hands. He's a man with a reputation. A very dark, and vile one might I add.

He has done well lurking in the shadows all these years, remaining a bedtime story told to scare stubborn little pups off until he shows up in Redwood—the central werewolf city—demanding to speak to my father like he has an unfinished business with him.

I don't like it.

It makes me so unsettled because I might not see eye to eye with my father, but it doesn't mean I want him to end up dying at the hands of a man who's known to have no heart.

A fucking psychopath who carves his path through the blood of my people.

My father is the Alpha of the Nightshade Pack, known as the largest Pack in Redwood. Surely, Malakai knows killing my father would start a war, right? I assume he's many things but dumb.

As mysterious as he is, no one has ever really been able to pinpoint his territory. The only thing that gives an inkling of his existence is his reputation that breathes down our necks like chaos waiting to descend.

I can't shake off the feeling that something bad is about to happen. It consumes my thoughts so deeply that it's the only thing I can think of, leaving a banging headache in his wake.

“Cataleya, I presume?” the deep, velvety voice drips with politeness, my name rolling off his tongue like a sin waiting to happen.

My body tenses immediately, dread freezing me to a spot.

He circles me, and comes right before me, halting in his tracks. My breath catches swiftly in my lungs, my heartbeat growing erratic when I lock gazes with him.

His dark eyes, glinting with a sadistic edge have to be the emptiest orbs I have ever seen. I'm baffled by how they seem to have a signature psychotic gleam in them, yet peering into them seems like staring into a deep, dark abyss that's prepared to swallow me whole.

I look over his shoulder, my eyes landing on my father's threatening gaze. He throws me a curt nod like he's urging me to do something and I look back to Malakai again, struggling to contain my discomfort.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him as though I have the right to, my eyes widening a fraction when his gaze grows intense.

“I'll tell you that on the dance floor.” He stretches his hand forth.

I stare at it, reluctant, then I glance around to see take in the stiffness of every prominent werewolf in the room. They are trying to take the edge off by indulging in small talks, gulping down expensive wine and champagne while leading themselves to the dance floor.

But it doesn't take a genius to know that they are ready to pounce at the slightest opportunity.

I can feel my father's gaze drilling hole into my body from where he is across the room, so I slip my arm into his.

Heat sweeps through me like zaps of electrical currents when he engulfs my hand in his large, rough ones.

He pulls me into him like he's making his stance clear that he's not asking for permission. He's simply taking what belongs to him.

I flush against him, gasping lightly. Then, I place my arm on his broad shoulder. One of his hands rests on the small of my back, the heat searing through my dress causing me to look up at him.

The music, the chattering, and the world around us sinks into oblivion.

“You haven't answered my question.” A frown suddenly overtakes my features.

The corners of his lips twitch, and he pulls me into him further like he's trying to fuse our bodies. His scent, something musky and woody, tainted with an animalistic edge, floods my senses.

It gives me a heady rush but I push it down, my hatred resurfacing instead.

“Are you always this curious?” he sounds amused, swaying me softly.

“It's not everyday the enemy comes into my father's territory.” I grit my teeth, my nails digging into his broad shoulder harshly.

He doesn't flinch or show any sign of discomfort. “The enemy, huh?”

“What do you want from my father? What did you tell him? Why are you here? You have stayed out of sight for years, what do you suddenly want from us now?” my breath quickens as those questions unfurls from my lips, rage bleeding into them.

“Careful, Princess. Your claws are starting to show.” He smirks—a chill inducing action that holds no humour in it.

I dig my nails into his shoulder harder, glaring intently at him. He spins me around and I come crashing into his chest, feeling him trail his hands up my spine.

I fight back a shudder.

“You better start talking or I swear to the goddess, I'll gouge your eyes out with my fucking claws.” My jaw tightens and I step on his foot when my body flushes against his again.

“So fucking impatient,” he murmurs, his voice cold and edgy.

It's like he's showing me what he wants me to see and I fucking hate it. The more I stare at him, the more the darkness hanging around him sucks me in and messes with my head.

Our gazes lock in a heated stare down—his outrightly dead, and mine reeking off nothing short of fury, judging by how my body hums with rage and hatred.

He leans in, my body flattening against him. I suppress a shiver when his breath hits the shell of my ear, my jaw clenching hard.

“You'll find out soon enough.” His icy voice is laced with a dark promise that makes my insides twist.

I push at his chest, glaring at him.

“So, why don't you be a good girl and keep up the font? You don't want your father getting mad at you for being rude to his guest now, do you, Princess?” he inquires huskily and I pale in fright.

“Fuck you.” I seethe, pulling away from him.

It's then it dawns on me that the music has come to an end. My body trembles with rage, aggravation sweeping through me at the sight of the amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

“I'll see you around, Cataleya.” He bids me farewell, strolling off the dancefloor and out of the ballroom like he didn't just weasel his way into my life tonight and uproot it.

I stand there, frozen in a spot. My eyes drift to a boiling Zane standing beside my father. But that's not what garners my attention, it's the way my father's staring at me.

A cold, calculative gaze that causes chills to run up my spine in a terrifyingly dark way.

What the hell is going on?