005

AXEL

She remained oblivious, unaware of my true identity as the Lycan King. I preferred it that way. Her ignorance would facilitate my goals. Our encounter had laid the groundwork perfectly. Now, patience and strategy would seal her fate.

I dragged Eliana away from the woman's toxic presence, my firm grip slowly easing to avoid bruising her delicate hand. My protective instincts still simmered, but I softened my hold, ensuring her comfort.

Eliana's blue eyes met mine, filled with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. I shifted my gaze, respecting her vulnerability, but my awareness of her remained.

"For?" I asked.

She looked at me, slightly perplexed. I knew why she was thanking me. I just wanted to hear her soft, silky voice again, a sweet resonance I couldn't get enough of.

I mentally recoiled, self-rebuke kicking in. 'Get a hold of yourself, Axel. She is the enemy's daughter.' Her allure was just a threat.

Her voice broke me out of reverie. "For saving me from my mother." She tucked a strand of her rich, honey-blonde hair behind her ear.

I clenched my jaw, barely resisting the urge to gnaw at my bottom lip.

"Your mother?" I raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on my face. Her mother was dead; I knew that much. What was she hiding?

"My stepmother." She averted her eyes, fueling my skepticism. I wouldn't be surprised if she lied. The deception was a familiar thread in their family tapestry.

Her innocent facade was deceiving. I'd fallen for that charm before—her father had mastered it before he crushed me. Her sweetness was a ruse, a clever disguise.

Her angelic face belied her heritage. I couldn't deny the fact that her father was Malcolm Astrid, notorious for his ruthless tactics. His bloodline often proved poisonous, and I knew Eliana inherited his traits, hidden beneath her innocent veneer.

She might be guilty of what she was accused of, even though she looked innocent, and it was almost impossible for me to believe, but she might be just like her father. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

We glided onto the dance floor, her gaze darting around the room, seeking something—or someone. I followed her line of sight, wondering what—or who—held her attention. The attention I needed.

Her eyes locked onto someone across the room, but she swiftly averted her gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. My curiosity piqued, and I scanned the crowd, determined to identify the mystery person.

I wrapped my fingers around her slender hand, my gaze drawn to her soft, creamy skin, radiant as buttermilk in the dim light.

The dress clung to her curves like a second skin, making my pulse race.

GOOD GODDESS!!

'Why did my prey have to be so sexy?'

Eliana's proximity was intoxicating. The narrow space between us crackled with tension. My gaze locked onto her plump, pink lips, and I felt unsettling emotions.

Her fascination was now clear: the Alpha King of the shadow Pack, accompanied by a woman eerily resembling the one we had conversed with minutes prior.

"I'm not a good dancer," she whispered, her shyness palpable. I gently placed my hands on her waist, reassuring her with a soft smile. "Don't worry, I've got you," I reassured her, seeking to put her at ease.

"So what was your mother... stepmother talking about?" I asked, as our bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. The look on her face saddened, like I'd said something hurtful. I knew it was delicate, but I didn't expect it to affect her that way.

She gazed up at me, her wolf's eyes searching mine as if attempting to voice a secret. Her voice barely registered, a faint whisper lost amidst the music. Before she could utter another word, her eyes widened, and she abruptly stopped dancing. With a swift spin, she turned and fled, leaving me stunned.

I watched as her perfect curve and blonde hair vanished into the sea of faces. Regret washed over me for broaching the sensitive subject. I had hoped to create a sense of comfort and trust between us, not drive her away.

Exhaustion pinned me in place, despite the pang of guilt. I couldn't muster the energy to chase after her. Instead, I headed to the bar, seeking a stiff drink.

I strode toward the bar, my presence commanding attention. The bartender, acknowledging my status, bowed respectfully. "What can I serve you, sir?"

I commanded, my deep voice resonating through the room, "Vodka. A bottle." The bartender hastened to obey, his eyes darting nervously to me. I ignored the curious glances from the crowd, unaccustomed to my presence at these gatherings. My focus remained fixed on one thing. I was here only because my prey was.

An obnoxious giggle pierced the air, drawing my gaze. Two Lunas from different packs whispered amongst themselves, their eyes darting toward me.

"They say he's merciless in battle."

"And heartless in love."

The redhead's voice was barely audible, but my werewolf hearing picked up every word; "he was dancing with Eliana a few minutes ago, and Eliana's affair ruined her reputation. And to make matters worse, she's barren. Instead of apologizing, she's making it obvious she wasn't content with her mate." The other Luna nodded, their gossip-filled glances flicking toward me, fueling my growing unease.

My brow furrowed, sensing intrigue. The brown-eyed Luna whispered, "I'm glad her sister's returned to reclaim what's rightfully hers."

The bartender's hand trembled, dropping the bottle into my waiting grasp. I seized it, my gaze pretending not to be on the gossiping women.

I downed a gulp of vodka, then rose from my stool, my movements fluid and menacing. Approaching the Lunas, I reveled in the fear flickering in their eyes. They cowered, their whispers dying on their lips.

"Speak freely, ladies," I growled. "Quick gossiping and getting a meaningful life!" the redhead stammered, before hastily adding, "We... I'm sorry." The Lunas exchanged nervous glances, then scurried away, abandoning their drinks.

I needed to find my prey.