THE SHIRTLESS LETHAL ALPHA

His shirt was still warm in my hands.

I stood in the middle of Kael Thorne's bedroom holding it like an idiot, while the shower ran in his bathroom.

The most lethal Alpha in the whole of the twelve territories was showering ten feet away from me, Shirtless, Wet and I was locked in here with him for 72 hours.

The room smelled like him. Too much like him. Pine, smoke, leather, and that wild male scent that made my knees do stupid things. My Omega body, wolfless as it was, was reacting like it had never reacted before. Heat was pooling low in my belly, my pulse was hammering, and my skin felt too tight.

This was wrong. I was about to be sacrificed. I should be crying. Panicking. Planning escape.

Instead I was thinking about his chest. That ridiculous tattoo of the black wolf snarling over his heart. The scars that ran down his abs like lightning.

"Stop it, Elyra," I whispered to myself. "He is going to kill you. Or worse, watch you get sacrificed. Stop being horny for your murderer."

The shower stopped.

My entire body froze.

Footsteps. Slow. Bare feet on stone floor.

The bathroom door opened, and steam poured out.

And then he came out.

Goddess save me.

Kael Thorne stood there in only low black sweatpants. Nothing else. Water dripped from his dark hair down his neck, down that scarred chest, down the ridges of his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his pants. His skin was still damp, glistening in the low firelight. The scar on his left cheek was darker when wet.

He hadn't even dried himself properly.

And his eyes .....ice-blue again, but darker, locked straight at me.

He saw me staring. Of course he saw me staring. I was staring like a starved animal.

His mouth curled into something that was not a smile. Something lethal and amused.

"Like what you see, little laundry girl?"

My face exploded with heat. "I — I wasn't — I was looking at the wall! The wall is very — wall-y!"

He took a step closer. Water dropped from his hair onto the floor.

"You were looking at my tattoo."

"I was not!"

"You were."

"I was looking at the — the wolf! The wolf on your chest! Is it — does it have a name?"

Why do I talk so much when scared? Why?

Kael stared at me for a second, then — shockingly — let out a low, rough laugh. It was the first time I had ever heard the Lethal Alpha laugh. It was low and dangerous and did terrible things to my stomach.

"He has a name. He is called Nox. And he is very interested in you."

As if on cue, his eyes flashed gold. Just for a second. His wolf.

The air in the room changed. It got heavier. Thicker. My breath caught.

Kael inhaled, deep, through his nose. His nostrils flared. And his jaw clenched hard, like he was in pain.

That scent. I was smelling it again, but stronger. That pine and smoke scent was now mixed with something else — something that was making my head dizzy. My body responded without permission. My thighs pressed together.

"What — what is that smell?" I whispered.

"Your heat," he said, voice rough as gravel. "It's starting."

My eyes widened. "What? No! I don't get heats! I'm wolfless! Omegas without wolves don't —"

"We do," he cut me off, stepping closer again. Too close. He was a wall of hot, damp muscle in front of me. He didn't touch me, but I could feel the heat coming off his body. "When a wolfless Omega is near her fated mate for too long, her body remembers what her wolf forgot."

Fated mate.

The words hung in the air.

I looked up at him, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

"What did you say?"

He looked down at me, and for the first time, the lethal mask cracked. I saw something raw, almost tortured, in his ice-blue eyes.

"Nothing," he said, too quickly.

"You said fated mate!"

"I said nothing."

"You did! You said —"

In one move, he caged me against the wall. One arm on either side of my head, not touching me, but trapping me completely. His damp chest was inches from my face. I could see every drop of water, every scar, the way his muscles strained.

"Listen to me very carefully, Elyra Vex," he growled, low, so low only I could hear. "You are a sacrifice. You die in 71 hours now. You do not have a mate. You do not have a wolf. You do not have a future. So stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" I breathed.

"Like you want me to save you."

Did I? I did. Goddess, I did.

But I lifted my chin, because if I was going to die in 71 hours, I was not going to die as a quiet, obedient Omega.

"Maybe I was looking at you like I want you to wash your own damn shirt," I said.

His eyes widened. Then gold exploded in them again. His wolf pushing forward.

Nox.

Kael's breathing got heavier. He leaned in, until his mouth was a breath from my ear. His scent surrounded me completely now, and my body — stupid, traitor body — arched slightly toward him without permission.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he whispered, voice shaking with restraint. "You smell like mine. You feel like mine. And I have to watch you die."

My heart stopped.

"What?"

He pulled back instantly, like he said too much. He stepped away from the wall, putting cold distance between us. He ran a hand through his wet hair, claws briefly flashing — black, sharp — before he hid them.

"Go to sleep," he ordered, voice cold again. "Take the bed. I will take the floor."

"What? No! I can't take your bed! You are the Alpha!"

"And you are my responsibility for 71 hours. Take the bed. If you don't, I will tie you to it."

That sounded like a threat. But the way he said it — low, possessive — it didn't sound like a threat at all. It sounded like a promise that made my entire body flush hot.

I scrambled onto his huge bed. It was ridiculous. Furs, black sheets, and it smelled entirely like him. I pulled his stained shirt — the one I was supposed to wash — over me like a blanket.

Kael watched me from across the room. He didn't move to the floor. He just stood there, chest heaving, eyes gold and blue fighting each other, fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

He was fighting his own wolf. For me.

"Kael?" I whispered.

"Don't say my name like that," he groaned.

"Like what?"

"Like you belong in my bed."

Silence.

The fire crackled.

Outside, a wolf howled. Then another. The Blood Moon was rising. I had 71 hours.

Kael finally turned away, grabbing a shirt from his closet. When he pulled it on, I felt a stupid stab of disappointment.

He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, facing the bed. Facing me. Guarding me.

"Sleep, little laundry girl," he said, voice exhausted. "Tomorrow, the other Alphas will come to see the sacrifice. I will have to keep them from touching you."

"Will you... will you be able to?"

He looked at me, and his smile was pure lethal promise.

"If anyone touches what is mine, I will rip their hands off and feed them to them. Now sleep."

What is mine.

I fell asleep to those words, wearing his shirt, in his bed, while the most lethal Alpha in history sat on his floor and watched me like I was the only thing keeping his wolf alive.

I didn't know it then, but my own wolf — the white one caged since birth — had just opened one eye for the first time in 21 years.

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