The Alpha's Mistaken Mate

West Woodland, Paris.

Serena’s POV

 The shiver that slid down my spine had nothing to do with the airport’s overzealous air conditioning. The second I headed toward the exit, I felt that unmistakable prickle of being watched, which was ridiculous if you ask me.

I mean, this place was packed with travelers, families reuniting, couples kissing like they were auditioning for a rom-com.

I was here on my own for an unplanned vacation, so there was no way anyone was paying special attention to me.

I tugged my jacket tighter anyway and glanced around, my lips curving into what I knew was a convincing smile. Everyone else’s smiles seemed effortless and bright, you know, like the kind that reached their eyes. But mine was a professional-level performance. It was convincing, but it was empty, if I do say so myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, a man walked towards me, or so I thought, I wasn't sure. I turned just in time to get a proper look at him, and… wow.

Okay, that explained the shiver I had felt down my spine some few minutes ago.

The man was tall, ridiculously so… about six-five at least, making my five-eight frame; helped generously by heels, feel suddenly petite. He had broad shoulders that stretched his jacket, and his arms were thick with the kind of muscle that looked like they were earned from working out. The kind of arms that could lift you as they push you against the wall to kiss you…

I trailed off my thoughts as I remembered my sister’s words. “Meet a gorgeous stranger, have a random one night stand…” I shook my head and went back to analyzing the man’s physique.

Those arms could certainly throw a punch at your ex square in his smug, self-satisfied face, I thought as I mentally sighed at the image.

His face flashed in my mind, crystal clear. The smug grin and the way he had said it like it was a victory. “Fine, let’s break up then. Women don’t leave me. I do the leaving.”

I rolled my eyes internally. “Smug bastard.”

“Ms. Harp?” The man’s voice stopped me cold.

It was low and smooth, the kind of voice that slid under your skin without permission. The kind that didn’t ask for attention but it took it, anyway. My body reacted before my brain caught up, which was annoying, because I prided myself on self-control.

I nodded, frowning slightly. “Yes?”

How did he know my name? I asked myself as I stared at him. Gosh, this man was handsome, and he looked so mysterious, like there was something about him I couldn't pinpoint.

Who was this man? A beat passed before it clicked on my head. Of course. Sidney.

My dear, over-prepared sister who was supposed to be on this trip in the first place, had no doubt arranged everything down to the molecular level. And since I had stepped into her shoes at the last minute, I was now reaping the benefits… including tall, dangerously attractive strangers who knew exactly who I was.

Lucky me.

Or very, very unlucky, but I didn't know that.

“Come with me.” he said and I almost threw my head back in a laugh. Wait what? What world did this man lived in, asking me to come with him just like that? I mean, I knew this was Sidney’s arrangement, but still, I needed to be sure.

“Most certainly not, at least, not before I know your name or where you're taking me to.” I said.

Surely, organ traffickers however well-dressed, didn’t frequent public places like this, still, it wouldn't hurt to be sure.

“I’m taking you to your hotel, Ms. Harp.” He said, ignoring my other question, but I didn’t care about that for now.

“Nice try, but that's not the name of my hotel.” I said, giving him a look. However handsome and insanely attractive he was, I wasn't going to let him hook me into a trafficking ring. I was in a country I had never been to actually, so I had to be careful.

The man extended his hand and touched my shoulder, and even though I had two layers of clothes on me, I could feel an insane ziggy zap of an electric run up and down my arm.

“Don’t touch me.” I said, almost gasping as I pushed back, using my most freezing tone; the one that made even my persistent sister back off when she's trying to convince me to do something I didn't want to do.

The man gave a curt nod. “Forgive me,” he said smoothly, removing his hand. “I’m sorry I startled you. My name is Galatia.” he finally gave his name, and after a brief hesitation, then he added, ”and I'm taking you to La Saint Suites.

Oh!

I sighed, nodding because that was the name of the hotel Sidney had booked. Instantly, my suspicion seemed foolish. “I apologize for being skeptical.” I said and he nodded.

“It’s fine, Ms. Harp. Now, can you follow me?” he asked and I nodded then.

The man… Galatia… wait, what kind of name was that? It did suit him now that I think about it, collected my suitcase and started to walk towards the exit, not waiting for me to catch up or anything. It was as if he was saying, “You already wasted my time with your unnecessary suspicion, so catch up if you like or not. I'll just leave without you.”

I picked up on my steps and was almost running after him.

Soon, we got to a Mercedes-Maybach S-class… I knew what it was exactly because I watched the launch of the car several months ago with Sidney back home in Atlanta.

At the driver’s side of the car, a chauffeur was waiting, wearing a black and white uniform, and I told myself it was probably the hotel’s staff.

Well, I must admit that this was surprising, because surely, hotels back home don't send cars to pick up people at the airport. What do I know anyway?  

I entered the car as Galatia did as well, and it started off the curb, running towards the city.

The city unfolded outside the tinted windows like a living postcard, and I pressed my palm to the cool glass, watching buildings as they blurred past us, streets buzzing with life even from inside a luxury car that probably cost more than my college education.

The lights, the movement, the sheer newness of it all sank into me, loosening something tight in my chest.

Sidney had been right. God, I hated that she was right.

The scenery alone was doing what weeks of self-imposed isolation hadn’t managed to do for me; pulling my thoughts away from him. Away from the breakup. Away from the days I had spent curled up in my room, replaying every argument, every cruel word that bastard ever said, every smug smile as he walked away like he had won a prize.

This felt like oxygen.

I exhaled slowly and leaned back, letting myself exist in the moment for once.

Galatia sat beside me, large and still, his presence filling the space without him doing a thing. He hadn’t spoken since we got into the car, not a word, and not even a glance in my direction.

His attention seemed fixed straight ahead, his jaw set with a relaxed posture, but I could tell that he was alert, like a man who missed nothing.

After a few minutes, curiosity and irritation got the better of me. “So,” I said, breaking the silence, “how long until we get to the hotel?” I asked but he said nothing.

He didn't even glance at me or blink.

I turned my head to look at him, not believing what was happening. Seriously? I waited a beat, then another, but there was still nothing.

I rolled my eyes and looked back out the window. Of course. He was probably one of those men who thought their looks made up for a complete lack of manners. Tall, beautiful, mysterious… and apparently, suddenly mute.

Annoyance simmered under my calm exterior, but I swallowed it down because there was no need to cause tension, at least, not yet.

A few minutes later, something felt… off.

The city had thinned and buildings gave way to long stretches of road with trees… dense ones, tall and endless on either side of the road.

I furrowed my brows in confusion as my spine stiffened and I sat up straighter, heart giving a sharp, warning thump.

“Galatia,” I said slowly, turning fully toward him now. “Where are we going?” I finally asked, my fear shining through my voice.

Again, he gave me silence, but his jaw tightened, and that simmer of irritation boiled over into something in me.

“Galatia,” I repeated, louder this time, telling myself he probably didn't hear me, that his mind was elsewhere like mine was before.

But, of course, there was nothing again, and my breath quickened. Okay. No. This wasn’t funny. My fingers slipped into my bag, movements casual on the outside, but frantic underneath. I wrapped my hand around my phone and pulled it out.

Before I could even unlock the screen, his hand shot out so fast and effortless, yanking my phone out of my hand.

“What the… hey!” Heat flooded my face as anger exploded through me. “Give that back!”

I lunged for it without thinking, scrambling across the leather seat toward him. The car swerved slightly as my knee slid, my balance tipping… and suddenly I was on his lap.

Every inch of me went rigid, and I could feel electricity sparked where our bodies met, a violent, traitorous rush that shot up my spine and settled low in my stomach. His hands came up instinctively, gripping my waist to keep me from falling, and the contact sent another shiver through me.

I sucked in a breath, cursing my body silently for reacting and betraying me at the worst possible moment. Fear and fury fought against each other with something dangerously close to attraction, and I hated every second of it.

“Get off me,” I snapped, grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry my phone from his grip but I couldn't. He didn’t even flinch.

When it became painfully clear I wasn’t winning this battle, I leaned back just enough to glare at him.

“What do you want from me?” I hissed. “Money? Because you picked the wrong woman. Or is this your grand plan to kidnap tourists in luxury cars?” I scoffed, though my pulse was racing.

Holy shit, that could be it, but then again, it made no sense.

“What are you? A human trafficker? Because I knew I should’ve trusted my instincts back at the airport.”

For a long moment, he just stared at me, studying me like I was something tiny under his microscope, and then, the corner of his mouth lifted slowly in a smirk that was gone in ten seconds.

That startled me more than his silence had, that tiny expression that was so… human, so real, was the first crack I had seen in his flawless, unreadable exterior. And somehow, that made him more dangerous, not less.

“Maybe,” he said with a very calm and smooth voice, “you should get off my lap now.”

Mortification slammed into me. The first thing he said, and it was to tell me to stop being close to him? To get off his lap?

I scrambled backward instantly, heat flooding my cheeks as I retreated to my side of the seat. Embarrassment knotted with the anger I was feeling, and even that tangled with something darker in me.

Fear.

My hands clenched into fists in my lap as the reality of the situation finally settled on me like a cold truth.

This wasn’t a misunderstanding and it wasn’t my paranoia acting out. This was the reality of the situation. I had been kidnapped in broad daylight, and I had walked into it myself, without any kind of fight.

Well, shit!

After about ten minutes later of nothing but silence and tension in the car, it slowed in front of a huge iron gate, one the driver had to scan his face to open.

It was black and imposing, their spikes sharp enough to look like claws. As we passed through, they began to close behind us with a deep, loud clang.

I swallowed hard the lump that had formed in my throat, and then I twisted in my seat, panic flooding my chest.

Because whatever I had walked into, there was no leaving now. The car finally came to a stop in front of a mansion, well, it was slightly smaller, but it could pass off as that.

“You’ll stay here,” Galatia said calmly, stepping out of the car and walking around to open my door.

Stubbornly, I folded my arms across my chest. “You don’t get to decide that,” I said through gritted teeth, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brought his eyes close to mine, dark and unreadable eyes, and he said. “Well, I already have.”

In that moment, I knew that I was in real trouble.