The Alpha King I Paid For

My whole body ached as if it were about to fall to pieces.

I forced my eyes open and turned to see a face I did not recognize, handsome even in sleep.

Flashes from the night before hit me. The bar. The booze. That killer scent of snow cedar.

"Are you okay?"

His deep, ragged breaths from last night still rang in my ears.

I cried, pleaded, tried to run, but he pulled me back, his grip on my waist so firm it felt like my soul was knocked out of me.

The heady mix of our bodies was somehow more intoxicating than the outrageously expensive perfume I kept at home.

Then, gazing at his calm profile, I found myself wanting round two.

My phone buzzed from within a pile of clothes on the floor. The screen lit up: Arthur.

Oh no.

My old-fashioned brother's relentless calls. My first night not coming home, and I was busted. If he found out I picked up a male model at the bar and hooked up, he would break my legs and lock me away in a tower with nuns for the rest of my days!

I had to vanish without a second to lose.

Ignoring the soreness in my waist and legs, I scrambled up and threw on my dress.

I glanced down to see my chest and collarbone littered with kiss marks; the collarbone, especially, was a dark purple, like he stamped his personal seal on me.

I stared at the man lost in sleep.

Should I just walk out? I hesitated.

He put in more effort last night, rough, but the "service quality" was top-notch.

The Jamesons did not take advantage without giving back.

I emptied my purse, three thousand dollars in cash.

Not enough.

I bit my lip and slipped off my red gemstone ring.

Worth a cool $20,000, that should square us.

I laid the cash and ring neatly on the pillow and grabbed a pen and paper.

The night was incredible, so why not make that a regular thing? I mused.

Arthur was away on business so much that I deserved a bit of personal joy.

I scribbled a note:

[Nice skills. Here's a tip. Hotel, Saturday. Be there, and be clean, waiting for me.]

The deal was done, clean and fair.

So long, Mr. Gorgeous Model. I whispered under my breath.

I grabbed my stilettos and tiptoed out the door, barefoot, like a cat sneaking off after a midnight snack.

Half an hour later, the morning sun sliced through the curtains.

Frederick's eyes snapped open.

Seven years. Seven long years since he felt that good, that fulfilled after his heat.

The relentless restlessness that plagued him was gone, replaced by a deep, satisfying contentment.

He found her at last.

His infuriatingly sweet, destined mate.

"Darling!" His voice was rough, tinged with sleep, as he reached out to pull her close.

His hand met only air.

The bed was empty and cold.

Frederick bolted upright.

She was gone. That soft, sweet temptress fled?

His eyes narrowed, his golden irises turning into slits.

She's playing with fire, he thought.

His gaze landed on the pillow. A stack of bills, a red gemstone ring, and a note.

Frederick's face went stone-cold.

He picked up the cash, gripped the ring tight, and read the elegant script.

[Nice skills. Here's a tip. Hotel, Saturday. Be there, and be clean, waiting for me.]

The words were a slap in the face.

"Crash!"

The glass could not handle the sudden surge of Alpha King energy and exploded into shards.

Frederick glared at the note, his fingers popping with tension.

He thought it was the start of a romantic tale with his mate.

To her, was he just another transaction? Worth a mere three grand?

"Alright then," he muttered, dropping the mind-link block he put up the night before.

Beta Lucas's voice burst into his head, frantic: "Alpha King! Where are you? You blocked the mind-link last night, the council's in an uproar! Is it an attack?"

"Enough," Frederick snapped with an icy edge.

He stared at the wrinkled note in his grasp, his voice laced with a predatory chill.

"Find her. Turn the world upside down if you have to, but bring her to me.

"She's going to learn the hard way that no one brushes off the Alpha King with a few bucks."

Lucas's voice quivered, echoing the shock that rocked his core.

"Brush off? With what???"