22

pov: alpha Michael

The heavy car doors clicked shut behind us, cutting off the low rumble of the engine. The moment the vehicle settled in the private driveway of the estate, my head guard stepped forward, reaching his hands out toward the back seat to carry her inside.

"Don't worry about it," I muttered, my voice dropping into a low rumble as I blocked his path with a slight shift of my shoulder. "I can handle her myself."

He blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting his king to do the heavy lifting, but he quickly bowed his head and stepped back in silent obedience. I leaned into the vehicle and carefully slid my arms underneath her broken, exhausted frame. As I lifted her against my chest, she didn't even stir. She was still deep in a heavy sleep, completely worn out by the terror of the day. Looking down at her as I walked up the grand staircase of the mansion, I couldn't help but notice the unique, breathtaking softness she carried whenever her eyes were closed.

Fedora. She looked like a handmaiden birthed by the sun itself, yet her wild, fierce spirit was clearly guided by the pull of the moon. If there was a word in our language that meant something far greater than just beautiful, I would have used it to name her. She had absolutely no idea, and I would make sure she never found out, but my mind became completely restless the very second she was near me. Whenever she looked up and spoke to me, my usual composure threatened to slip away entirely. To protect my secrets, I had to constantly cover up my true reactions by acting completely serious, cold, and calm.

I pushed the heavy doors of my private chambers open, moving silently across the dark rug, and gently laid her down on the center of my massive bed. Instead of walking away, I found myself freezing in place, just standing over her so I could stare down at her quiet face. The room was completely silent, save for her shallow breathing. I honestly felt like I could stand there and watch her for a full twenty-four hours without getting tired for a single second, as long as she remained asleep and never caught me doing it.

I leaned down slightly, my fingers moving on pure instinct. I gently pushed a few stray strands of hair away from her forehead, letting my thumb rest softly against the edge of her lips. They were incredibly soft, looking too perfect to resist. A sudden, violent urge to bend down and kiss her right there crashed through my chest, but I fiercely clenched my jaw, forcing my hands back to my sides. *Have some damn self-control, Michael,* I warned myself inwardly, taking a step back to clear my head.

As the distance grew between us, a foul, sharp odor finally hit my nose, breaking the spell. She was stinking badly, a thick smell of old water and waste clinging heavily to her clothes and skin. My jaw tightened as I realized what must have happened. I already knew from the moment I found her that she was someone special, and because of that unique nature, she was bound to attract vicious enemies—envious people who would constantly try to weigh her down and break her spirit. Because of that, the state she was in didn't really surprise me, but a dark, messed-up realization hit me a second later. Despite the terrible smell of filth on her skin, just looking at her peaceful face was turning me on in a weird, uncontrollable way. I shook my head in disgust, wondering if I was losing my mind or getting sick.

Desperate for a distraction, I pulled out my phone and dialed Ella, ordering her to get up to my room immediately to check on the girl's injuries. The moment I hung up, I began ripping my clothes off, tossing the stained suit jacket aside as I marched straight into the adjoining bathroom to wash the grime of the city off my own skin.

The second the hot water hit my shoulders, the dark urges came roaring back with a vengeance. My body was burning, and all my mind wanted to do was find release while picturing her beautiful face behind my eyelids. I leaned my forehead against the wet tile wall, my chest heaving as I fought against my own basic instincts. I had made a strict promise to myself to maintain absolute control over my body and mind. I could not allow myself to fall hopelessly in love with her. I couldn't afford to love anyone ever again; the last time I let my guard down and opened my heart, it had ended in absolute disaster and blood.

I was the Lycan King. I was a grown man, a ruler who had to govern by cold logic and harsh strategy, never by messy human emotions. Getting emotionally attached to a broken runaway girl would completely distract me from my main mission, and I was determined to stick to my goals no matter what.

I turned off the faucet, shaking the excess water from my hair, and stepped out into the open space of the bathroom. But before I could even reach for a towel, the door swung open.

There she stood, frozen in the doorway, completely half-naked with only a thin towel loosely wrapped around her curves. The sight of her bare shoulders and flushed skin shattered every single ounce of my logic in a millisecond. All the carefully built walls in my mind crumbled into dust, and the only thought left burning in my brain was the overwhelming, feral urge to pin her against the wall and fuck her right then and there.