SIENNA’S POVFor a second, I didn’t move.My breath snagged somewhere between shock and embarrassment as that hand stayed firm around my waist—steady, warm, unshakable. Whoever it was, they held me like they had every right to, like they’d done it before.Who the hell would dare touch me like that?Not that I cared.I was just… curious.Slowly, I turned my head.And there he was.The man holding me didn’t belong to the soft-lit luxury of this place. He owned it.Dark hair, slicked back but rebelliously messy at the edges, like he didn’t bother to tame it because the world already bowed to him anyway. His jawline was sharp enough to cut through silence. A small scar sat beneath his left eye, faint but telling—a story I knew better than to ask about.And his eyes—dear goddess—his eyes weren’t the kind you look into. They were the kind that look through you. Piercing gray, cold steel under sunlight. The kind that saw too much, too fast, and left you wondering what part of yourself he’d a
LUTHER’S POVThat was it.Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, I had him by the collar, yanking him so close I could see the reflection of my fury in his eyes. My fingers tightened around his neck, feeling the pulse under my thumb.“Say those words again,” I growled, low and sharp, my breath brushing his face. “And I’ll rip your fucking tongue out.”The air cracked between us like lightning.He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. He just stared back, jaw locked, that faint, infuriating glint in his eyes daring me to lose control.And then, slowly, that smirk curved his mouth.“Yes, boss.”My restraint snapped. I shoved him back so hard his shoulder hit the dresser. The echo of his boots scraping against marble filled the air, sharp and loud.“She isn’t a nobody,” I said, every word roughened by anger. “I’ve chosen her.”Silence stretched, heavy enough to suffocate the room. My chest rose and fell in hard, deliberate breaths. Marcel’s expression didn’t change—he just reached up
LUTHER’S POVThe buttons refused to close properly. My hands weren’t shaking, but they weren’t steady either. Maybe it was because I hadn’t slept, or maybe because my thoughts wouldn’t stop circling her—the way she looked in that damn robe, like she didn’t belong in my world but somehow burned it down anyway.The fabric creased under my fingers. I yanked the collar straight, jaw tight, when a knock came at the door.“Come in,” I said, voice low.The door opened slowly. Marcel stepped in.He hesitated before speaking. That was already a bad sign.“Permission to speak my mind, boss?” His tone was measured, respectful, but the kind that carried trouble behind it.I looked up from the mirror. “What is it, Marcel?”He took a breath. “It’s about the girl.”I stilled. “What about her?”He shut the door softly, stepping further into the room. “Alpha, the rest of the men—they’re talking. They won’t say it to your face, but everyone’s thinking the same thing. Only I can tell you.”My patience t
SIENNA’S POVNever in a million years did I think me, Sienna Monroe, would actually bend my decision because of a stranger’s talk. But here I was — standing in front of a three-panel mirror while Lydia, with her soft, angelic hands and annoyingly gentle voice, circled me with a measuring tape like I was a mannequin.Apparently, Alpha Luther had ordered an entire custom wardrobe to be designed just for me. And Lydia said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.“Alpha wants every outfit made to your comfort, Luna,” she murmured with that shy smile. “You’ll have your own line — fabrics handpicked from Milan and Lyon.”I blinked, jaw slack. “You’re joking.”She smiled sweetly, still scribbling down numbers in her little notebook. “No, dear. The designs are already on the way. Alpha said your figure will change during pregnancy, so every outfit must evolve with you.”I let out a short laugh — the kind that came out half disbelief, half hysteria. “Whatever,” I muttered. “I don’t
SIENNA’S POVI couldn’t fucking believe it.Luther just… turned to Lydia like I was an errand and said, “Get her ready,” then walked out. No explanation, no glance back, just left like he owned the air I was breathing.My jaw dropped. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to scream or laugh at the audacity.Lydia turned to me, eyes soft and unsure, her hands clasped in front of her apron. She looked like the kind of woman who apologized to furniture when she bumped into them.“Good morning, Luna,” she said politely, voice barely above a whisper.I blinked. “Please don’t call me that.”Her brows lifted. “I’m sorry?”“My name is Sienna,” I said sharply. “Not Luna. Sienna.”She froze. Her lips parted like she’d just committed a crime. “But Alpha Luther won’t be happy if—”“I’d be happy if you called me Sienna,” I cut in, crossing my arms. “He’ll survive.”For a moment, she just stood there, looking torn between loyalty and fear. Then finally, she let out a nervous laugh. “Okay… Sienna.”“That’s
SIENNA’S POVLuther’s claws retracted slowly, like he wanted me to see he was choosing to be gentle. Just a small of his claws was left as his fingers brushed against my skin instead — the same hand that had seconds ago looked sharp enough to draw blood now tracing through strands of my hair like silk.My heart didn’t know whether to race or stop. Every nerve screamed to move, to fight, to run. But I didn’t. Because that’s when I saw it.The glint of silver in his pocket.A key.My key to freedom… Yes, he’d locked the door the moment he blocked my path earlier.He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his chest, smell the faint musk of soap and something darker, something him. I forced my breathing steady and tilted my head slightly, pretending not to notice. My eyes flicked down again. The key was right there — hanging loose, almost begging me to take it.I swallowed hard, keeping my face neutral. If I waited, if I played this smart, I could get out.Luther’s fingers trail