004

Found my prey

DARIUS

Her blue eyes swept over me, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.

“It seems you’re busy,” I said, my voice low.

She startled, blinking as if shaking herself out of a trance. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I was… lost in thought.”

A slow smirk tugged at my lips. I hadn’t expected my prey to look this tempting. The crimson dress clung to her like a lover’s touch, tracing every curve, every sinful line of her body. It took every ounce of control not to reach out and claim what I already considered mine.

“I should… get a drink,” she murmured, already edging away as though my presence burned her.

I tilted my head, studying the quick, almost desperate way she moved. Why the rush to escape? She couldn’t possibly know the real reason I’d returned to her pack. No one did. Not yet.

You only run from danger when you recognize it—when you can feel its teeth closing in. And Meira? She didn’t even see the jaws about to snap shut around her.

I doubted she’d recognize the man standing before her—the man her father had once broken without mercy. He wouldn’t recognize me either. Not now. Not after I’d rebuilt myself from the ashes he left behind.

“Hold up… Luna Meira.”

She froze instantly, as if the title itself was a chain she was desperate to break. “You don’t have to call me Luna. I’m just… Meira,” she said quickly, her voice tight, her gaze skittering away like I was a plague she couldn’t afford to catch.

I didn’t let her retreat into that false distance. My hand lifted, fingers brushing the delicate curve of her chin, tilting her face toward mine. Her skin was warm beneath my touch, her breath catching ever so slightly.

“I prefer,” I murmured, letting my voice drop into a command, “to look into the eyes of the person I’m speaking to.”

Her blue irises locked with mine—uncertain, guarded, but with a flicker of something she didn’t dare name. I held her there, letting the silence stretch, until she knew I wasn’t a man easily dismissed.

Her gaze trembled, but she didn’t look away this time. For the briefest moment, I saw her—not the guarded woman before me, but the girl she used to be. The one who laughed under the moonlight, barefoot in the grass, blonde hair whipping in the wind… before her own pack broke her spirit and ground her into dust.

That girl was gone.

“The Meira I knew,” I said quietly, voice low and dangerous, “would never hide her eyes from me.”

Her lips parted, confusion flickering in her gaze. “Huh?” The word slipped out in a breath, startled.

Of course she wouldn’t remember. The years, the pain, the betrayal—they’d buried those memories deep.

But I remembered. Every moment. Every scream.

“Good day, my King,” Elizabeth said, stepping into view as if she belonged there.

I didn’t bother hiding my irritation at the interruption. She looked almost exactly as she had years ago; time hadn’t done much to her face. But it didn’t matter. I knew she wouldn’t recognize me. Back then, I’d been nothing to her but a wolfless boy she barely spared a glance for.

Now? I was the Lycan King. A title she could never ignore, even if she tried.

My gaze swept over her once, slow and deliberate, before I turned my head away. She wasn’t worth my time, let alone my words.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Elizabeth continued smoothly, though the edge in her voice was impossible to miss. “Meira isn’t meant to be seen with… the likes of you.” Her eyes slid toward Meira, dripping with open disgust.

“I’ll just excuse myself,” Meira murmured, already shrinking back, her confidence visibly slipping.

“No.” My voice cut through the space, sharp enough to halt her retreat. My gaze stayed locked on Elizabeth. “What exactly did you mean by that?”

Elizabeth hesitated, clearly weighing her words. “I’m… looking out for you, Alpha.” She faltered under my stare, then forced out the word like it tasted foul. “She might be… cursed.”

I stepped toward her, slow and deliberate. “Are you telling your Alpha what to do?” My tone left no room for interpretation; it was less a question and more a warning.

Her eyes widened. “N-No… of course not,” she stammered, finally realizing she had already crossed a line.

“Then leave,” I ordered, my voice dropping to a deadly calm. “And go waste your breath on matters that matter to you. Because if you stand here one more second, I’ll start deciding what’s worth keeping… and what isn’t.”

She paled, bowed her head, and retreated without another word.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

My gaze dropped to her, unreadable. “For what?” I asked, stepping closer. My hand reached up, slow and deliberate, tucking a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered just long enough to feel the heat of her skin and the faint tremor in her breath.

“For… standing up for me,” she replied, her blue eyes meeting mine. They were wide and unguarded—filled with an innocence that seemed almost too pure to be real.

But I’d seen that kind of innocence before.

It was the same look my father had once believed in. The same softness he’d mistaken for loyalty. The same gentle eyes that had promised peace before driving a blade between his ribs.

And it had cost him everything.

I had learned from his mistake. Brutally. Painfully. I knew better than to trust what looked harmless. I knew how easily innocence could rot into betrayal.

“Let’s go dance,” I offered, my voice steady but threaded with something darker. I extended my hand, palm open, the way one might offer both an invitation and a challenge. She hesitated only a fraction before laying her soft palms against mine.

Her touch was warm—too warm—a dangerous contrast to the ice I carried in my veins. I pulled her closer, my gaze never leaving hers, yet I could feel her attention drifting across the grand hall. Her eyes flicked toward the far side of the room, and something in her expression shifted.

That’s when I heard it.

a familiar voice I had not heard in over a decade, but one that had carved itself into my memory like a scar that refused to fade.

“How dare you, Meira.”