Se connecter“I’m nothing to you. My presence repulses you, but the lust in your eyes is clear, Malakai Phantom.” I spat right in his face. The ruthless Alpha King only grinned… then licked my spit off his skin. “You’re playing with me,” I whispered, trembling. He leaned closer, his shadow swallowing me whole. And then his lips claimed mine. The Alpha King claimed me. ** Angelique Manchester was never the kind to bow. Not to her hateful mother. Not to the filthy merchant who bought her like property. But Malakai Phantom? He’s different. Dangerous. A man who rejects her with one breath and owns her with the next. Years after their fateful night, Angelique has rebuilt her life. She lives in the sun until it was taken from her. Then the darkness storm back in. It's cold. Powerful. Unforgiving. It's Malakai Phantom. He says she owes him. Fate says she’s his. And the fire between them says they’re both lying. In a world where betrayal bleeds deeper than love, Angelique must face the man who ruined her and the truth that might destroy them both. Because once the Alpha King claims you ... He never lets go.
Voir plusAngelique’s POVHe wasn’t my savior.Yes, Malakai Phantom had killed Kross and his men. He prevented my abduction and future enslavement.But he wasn’t my savior. What kind of savior looks at someone like that?I’d seen the way he looked at me. Hell, as the Alpha King towered over me, I wasn’t someone.I was something.Every part of me ached. Maybe it was the beatings. Maybe it was rage burning through my bones, turning them into ash.My limbs felt like lead, but I pushed myself up anyway.My grunts filled the air, blending with my ragged breaths. My head tilted down, and I stepped right on the money scattered across the floor.Blood still slid down my lips. I didn’t bother to wipe it.Didn’t bother to look at him either.I just wanted to get out and look for my pups. Still, my arms hung from my shoulders limply and I dragged my legs. I itched closer to the door, and I'd never take his money. Never. I refused to do so, and would rather bleed to death. “Come take this and get your
Angelique’s POVI’d be damned to allow it.I spent most of my life being hated. But looked down on?I never allowed it to happen. Not even Mother looked down on me, so this short man wouldn’t be an exception.Even on my knees, I met his eyes with my chin raised.The tavern always smelled of old ale, sweat. The stench never failed to burn the ajr in my throat. But it was nothing compared to the stench of Kross’s presence. Everything about him was unsightly. From his stubby fingers, his too-tight collar and that smug grin that made me want to vomit.Right on his ugly face.“Y’know, your mother, Nica, she wasn’t very helpful.”The short bastard took a step forward. His shoes clicked like he was proud of the sound.It’d be the first time in years I’d seen anyone wear a suit. But the outfit on his half-heighted body was so ridiculous, I snickered.“You needed help finding me? A lie.”He wasn’t tall enough to tower over me. Yet his dirty brows knitted like he thought it’d make him look me
Angelique’s POVI’d never get used to it.I didn’t mean the random flashes of memories from five years ago.I meant this. The sight of drunken customers getting flung into chairs, buried beneath the shatters of wood.And I had one man to thank for that.Mikael.There I stood behind the counter and sighed.The rundown tavern was always infested with drunks, and Mikael, a friend I didn’t ask for but got anyway, was the terminator.“Mr. Bronn is gonna be so pissed. Mikael!”“Yes, Angel.”With a smile, the tall, brown-eyed, curly-haired man faced me.He grinned wide, regardless of the blood dripping from his knuckles. Heck, some of it even painted his cute face.I kept staring at him, palms flat on the counter, lips tugged to one side.“Must you always do this?” I asked, ending up chuckling.He drew closer, settling on a high stool, leaning in until our noses brushed.“He touched your arm last week,” Mikael sneered. “He deserves this.”First, I glanced at the unconscious man, then burst
Angelique's POVI couldn’t breathe, and I didn’t know why.Maybe it was because of grief. Father died while saving me.Or maybe it was hate. Mother’s hate for me had intensified after Father’s death.Or maybe… just maybe, I couldn’t breathe because of them.The living room was occupied by four people. Usually, it’d be me, my sister Beatrix, Father, and Mother.But now, I only recognized one face. Mother’s. Unsurprisingly, it was twisted with disdain.The other three faces were unfamiliar, but painted with pleasure.“Damn, Nica. She’s pretty,” the shortest among them chuckled.He was as short as the couch but acted taller than a mountain. A scar added to his ugliness, and his big eyes leered at me.What was going on?“M-Mother.” I turned to the side and beheld her.For a woman who had lost her lifelong mate, her lips were chapped, and her eyes rimmed red. Still, she glared at me and I swallowed.“I refuse to live with a murderer.”For the first time in days, Mother spoke to me.And go
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