004

Chapter Four**  

**Elara**

So this was the alpha.

Because of course the arrogant, inconsiderate bastard also had to look like *that*.

He stood completely at ease, as if reducing someone to tears was just another ordinary part of his day.

I swallowed as I took him in—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair slightly messy, jaw sharp enough to have been carved by the Moon Goddess herself. High cheekbones. Storm-gray eyes. A face that could make any woman forget her own name.

His gaze lifted and locked on me for exactly two seconds before he dismissed me entirely.

It stung more than I wanted to admit.

I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. If he thought I would shrink after yesterday, he was about to be disappointed.

“Well,” I said, stepping fully into the room, “if this is your idea of fixing things, you might want to work on your people skills.”

One brow rose slightly. He took a slow sip of his drink with that same infuriating calm.

“You’re quick to jump to conclusions,” he said, voice low and controlled.

I crossed my arms, refusing to be cowed. “I saw enough.”

His mouth curved—not quite a smile, something sharper.

“Did you?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “You fail to show up yesterday, call me here, and the second I walk in you’re making someone cry. Let me guess—my turn next?”

He was quiet for a beat, then let out a soft, amused laugh that somehow irritated me more than shouting would have.

“You’re not just quick,” he said, watching me over the rim of his glass. “You’re also stupid.”

My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he hadn’t decided was worth solving.

“You invent entire stories in your head. Detailed. Dramatic. And completely wrong.”

“Oh, I’m wrong?” Heat flooded my face. “Then enlighten me. Was that not a girl running out of here in tears two seconds ago?”

“It was.”

“And you weren’t the reason?”

“I was.”

I stared at him, anger and disbelief colliding. “…Wow.”

He shrugged as if none of it mattered. “See? You’re proving my point.”

Something inside me snapped at the casual arrogance in his tone.

“Good,” I shot back. “Then I’m glad I called you out yesterday. You’re exactly the kind of man I thought you were.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction—barely noticeable, but enough to tell me I’d struck something.

“And what kind is that?”

“The kind no one should ever be stuck with,” I said before I could stop myself. “So congratulations. I’m never meeting you again. Whoever ends up with you is going to be miserable for the rest of her life.”

Silence stretched heavy between us. I didn’t take the words back.

I turned on my heel, ready to leave. I’d said what I needed to say, and I’d seen more than enough of his face for one lifetime.

I didn’t make it two steps.

A hand closed around my wrist and yanked me back.

A startled sound escaped me. Tiny sparks shot up my arm from the point of contact, scattering every coherent thought.

He spun me so fast my back hit the wall. He crowded in, one arm braced above my head, trapping me completely. His eyes pinned mine.

I gasped, suddenly unable to pull in enough air.

As if determined to make it worse, he leaned closer.

“You didn’t think this through before coming here, did you?”

My mind went blank. Speech deserted me.

His gaze dropped to my mouth, and something low in my stomach flipped hard—completely inappropriate given the situation.

“Let me go,” I managed.

He didn’t. Instead he leaned in until I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.

“Words failing you already?” A hint of a smirk touched his lips.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap him or tilt my face so our mouths would line up perfectly.

What was wrong with me?

When I still didn’t answer, he added, voice softer, “Or are your ladybits suddenly in a frenzy?”

How dare he.

My hand moved before my brain caught up. I yanked the knife from under my jacket and pressed the blade against his throat, the cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat of his skin.

“Back off,” I warned, expecting anger or at least irritation.

Instead the cocky bastard smiled—slow and full—until his mouth hovered just above mine.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, pulse hammering.

“Seeing if you’ll actually follow through.”

My grip tightened on the hilt. “You think I won’t?”

“I think,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “you don’t know how.”

The sheer audacity—

“I—of course I know how!”

“Do you?” he asked quietly.

Before I could react, his hand covered mine, sending another jolt through me as he adjusted my grip on the knife like he was giving a casual lesson instead of standing there with a blade at his throat.

“Your angle’s wrong,” he said, almost conversationally, shifting my hand so the tip pressed closer to his skin. “If you actually wanted to hurt me, you’d press here.”

I didn’t want to kill him. I just wanted him to get out of my space.

“Stop—”

“Go ahead,” he said softly. His other hand slid to my waist and pulled me closer instead of away. “Use the knife… while your mind is still working.”

It wasn’t.

The way he said it didn’t feel like a challenge. It felt like a warning.

“Because a second later,” he

added, almost against my lips, “it won’t.”

“What does that even—”

I never finished the sentence.

His mouth crashed down on mine.