Playing with Fire

The cell air instantly turned combustible.

Alpha Killian’s chest expanded against mine, his lungs drinking in the golden, forbidden warmth bleeding from my skin. The feral amber in his eyes bled into a deep, consuming black. His hand on my throat didn't tighten to choke me; it anchored me, his heavy thumb pressing right against my frantic pulse point as the raw, suffocating dominance of his wolf slammed into the tight space.

"Say it," Killian rasped, his voice dropping into a dark, demanding register that vibrated straight through my core. He leaned lower, his lips brushing the sensitive column of my neck, inhaling so deeply his nose dragged against my skin. "Let me hear you say what you are."

My body betrayed me. A shuddering moan caught in the back of my throat, sparking a sudden, fierce heat between my thighs. My inner Lycan wasn't cowering anymore; she was stretching, her golden claws scratching at the inside of my ribs, craving his touch, demanding I tear his clothes away and mark him back.

Instead, I dug my fingernails into his iron-hard shoulders, forcing my knees to tremble. I had to show him weakness, even as my skin burned everywhere he touched.

"Alpha... please," I gasped out, my voice thick, raw with a dangerous mix of fear and sheer arousal. "It's a trick. The rogues... they did something to the perimeter. Don't let them deceive you."

"Shut up," he growled.

He didn't pull away. Instead, his large, calloused hand slid down from my waist, his heavy palm tracing the curve of my hip before gripping the hem of my coarse kitchen dress. With one brutal, upward jerk, the fabric ripped, the sound of tearing cotton loud in the silent dungeon. The cold air hit my bare thighs, but the chill was instantly obliterated as Killian pressed his massive, heat-radiant body flush against mine.

His fingers dug into the bare skin of my hip, anchoring me against the damp stone wall as he brought his mouth down on mine.

The kiss wasn't a request; it was a claim. It was rough, possessive, and dripping with the dark intensity of the fated-mate bond. Killian tasted like winter storms and heavy liquor, his tongue demanding entry, invading my mouth with a desperate, heavy hunger that made my head spin. I locked my arms around his neck, my fingers burying into his thick, dark hair as I kissed him back with a fierce, reckless desperation I couldn't control.

Every spark that exploded between us felt like a death sentence. The more I yielded, the more my Royal Lycan aura pulsed, swirling around us in the dark cell like invisible gold leaf.

Killian groaned deep in his chest, a sound of pure, intoxicated surrender. His mouth left mine, tracing a path of burning bites down my jawline to the hollow of my throat. He gripped my thigh, lifting my leg to hook around his waist, pinning me so high my feet left the dirt floor entirely. The friction of his heavy combat pants against my bare skin sent a violent jolt of electricity straight to my center.

"You smell like royalty," he whispered against my damp skin, his breathing ragged, his hands trembling as they slid further up my bare thigh. "Like a queen who could bring my entire pack to its knees. Who are you, Lyra?"

The sound of my name on his lips nearly broke me. But as his fingers brushed the edge of my undergarments, a sudden, metallic scent cut through the heavy cloud of our lust.

Silver.

From the adjoining cell, a sharp, scraping sound echoed. The rogue with the glowing red eyes was scratching a piece of smuggled silver wire against the iron bars, deliberately drawing a thin line of black blood across his own palm. The toxic, burning scent of the pure metal sliced through the air, hitting my sensitive Lycan nose like a physical blow.

The sudden shock of the silver's proximity sent a cold spike of survival through my veins, instantly clearing the fog of the mate bond.

Killian felt it too. His head snapped toward the iron grate, his nostrils flaring as his Alpha protective instincts warred with his confusion.

"Who's there?" Killian roared, his voice booming through the stone cell as he dropped my leg, his body instantly shifting into a protective stance in front of me, shielding my torn dress from view.

"Just a spectator, Alpha," the rogue rasped from the shadows, a low, wicked chuckle bubbling in his throat. "You might want to check her ankles before you mate her on the floor. The guards aren't the only ones who brought silver into the Bloodmoon fortress tonight."

Killian’s eyes snapped down to my feet.

In the rush to play the victim earlier, I had let the broken glass cut my knee. But now, under his lethal gaze, the fresh blood dripping down my leg wasn't just red. Where the rogue's silver scent filled the air, my hybrid blood was reacting—turning a dark, shimmering, undeniable gold against the grey dirt of the cell floor.

Killian froze, his breath catching as he stared at the golden blood. The truth was staring him right in the face.