Chapter 44

ALPHA TRISTAN 

I walked further into the room, stopping a few feet behind her. With her back to me, the way the silk clung to her rear sparked a sudden, unwanted erection. I fought to keep my voice steady. "Sara, I... I don't really know how to say what I want to say. I’m sorry for everything that happened. For the hall, for the guards, for all of it. I am truly sorry."

She remained silent for a long time, the only sound the distant hum of the building's ventilation. "Why did you tell Yvonne that I was seducing you?" she finally asked. "You knew it was a lie. You knew I wanted nothing to do with you."

"I don't know... it was a lie," I muttered, looking down at my boots, feeling a wave of genuine shame. "I was cornered by her questions, and I used you as a shield to deflect her rage. I shouldn't have done it. I’m terribly sorry for the fallout."

Sara turned then, her eyes sharp, intelligent, and rimmed with the red of exhaustion. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped her lips. "You’re not sorry, Tristan. You stood on that balcony and watched. You gave the explicit order to let them touch me, and then you lied so your Right Hand wouldn't think you were 'weak' for wanting the woman who supposedly killed your mate. You didn't just let them humiliate me; you were an active participant in the crime."

The v-neck of her dress showed a hint of cleavage, and I had to force myself to concentrate on her words rather than her skin. "I know," I said, the word tasting like lead in my mouth. "I am sorry. For violating you in front of the pack... for letting my grief drive me that far."

Sara stepped closer, her face a mask of cold, hard resignation. "It doesn't matter. My life belongs to you now. You’ve made that abundantly clear. I am a body you own, a piece of property. But don't look to me for forgiveness, Alpha. You will never have it. You can give me all the silk, gold, and mountain vistas in the world, and I will still hate the very air you breathe."

Her defiance sparked that familiar, dark heat in my chest. I wanted to break her spirit, yet I simultaneously wanted to protect her from ever being hurt by anyone else again.

"I’m changing the terms of our... situation," I said, leaning my weight against the mahogany dresser and deciding to push my luck. "I haven't forgotten what you did. I haven't forgiven you for Claudia’s death. Her blood is still on your hands, and I will have my justice eventually. But the public degradations end tonight. No one else touches you. No one else even looks at you without my permission."

Sara narrowed her eyes, letting out a disbelieving chuckle. "Oh, please. Spare me the heroics."

"I don't understand. You don't believe my word?" I asked, genuinely confused by her reaction.

"There is always a catch with you, Tristan. There’s always a hidden cost. What is the price for this 'protection'?"

I was hurt that she would immediately assume the worst of me, but I refused to let it deter me. "You are to become my personal, live-in maid," I stated firmly.

"And what does that entail? Cleaning your office? Fetching your morning coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with amusement and sarcasm.

I took a predatory step forward, closing the distance until I could smell the faint, clean scent of the medical soap on her skin. "It means you live in the suite connected directly to mine. It means you are on call twenty-four hours a day. And it means... I have total, exclusive access to your body. You will be my 'service' in every sense of the word. A sex slave, Sara. To be used whenever I have the need, however I see fit."

Sara recoiled as if I had burned her with a hot iron. "No."

"It wasn't a request," I growled, my possessiveness flaring into a dark flame. "You are a convicted murderer who only escaped execution because of my whim. This is the only reason you’re still breathing. I need to keep you close to ensure you never have the chance to hurt anyone again. I need to control you—every single inch of you."

"You don't want control," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and insight. "You want to hide your own guilt. You feel like you're betraying Claudia every time you look at me and feel a spark of attraction, so you want to turn me into an object. You think if I’m just a thing, it won't feel like you’re falling for a monster."

I grabbed her arm, my grip tight and bruising, masking the sudden spike of panic her words caused. "Don't pretend to know what goes on in my mind. You are the woman who ruined my future. Owning you is the only way I can balance the scales of justice. You will do this, or I’ll send you back to the Grand Hall right now and let the pack finish what they started."

I saw the light flicker in her eyes—the brutal internal struggle between her fierce pride and her basic instinct for survival. She didn't say yes, but she didn't pull away from my grip either.

I looked at her, and for a fleeting, haunting second, I saw Claudia’s face in the back of my mind, judging me for what I was becoming. I pushed the image away, replacing it with the cold, hard reality of the girl in front of me. I told myself I hated her. I had to hate her. Because if I didn't, the fact that I couldn't stop wanting her would eventually destroy everything I had built.

"Your things will be moved into the connecting suite tonight," I said, finally releasing her arm. "Don't make me regret my 'mercy,' Sara."

I walked out of the room before she could see the conflict and the longing in my eyes. The door locked behind me with a definitive, electronic click, sealing us both into a new kind of hell.