The Alpha's Interrogation

"I asked you a question, Omega," Alpha Killian’s growl vibrated against my skin, sending a dangerous wave of heat straight through my veins.

His grip on my wrist was a vice of pure iron. The sparks where our skin met were deafening to my senses, a chaotic storm of fated-mate energy screaming at me to submit, to wrap myself in his scent of dark cedar and winter storms. But I couldn't. I forced my muscles to go limp, letting my head hang low as if his dominant Alpha aura was crushing the life out of me.

"I... I am just a kitchen maid, Alpha," I choked out, forcing a pathetic tremble into my voice. "My name is Lyra. I have no wolf. I am nothing."

"Lie to me again, and I’ll tear your throat out myself," he whispered, his dark eyes flashing a dangerous, predatory amber. He leaned closer, his chest pressing hard against mine as he inhaled deeply at the crook of my neck, trying to force a scent out of my stubborn skin.

The moon-root serum held, blocking my golden Royal Lycan aura, but my heart was drumming a frantic, frantic rhythm against my ribs.

"Alpha Killian, please!" Tanya stepped forward, her voice a sharp, annoying whine that broke the suffocating tension in the room. "She is wasting your time. Look at her—she’s a scentless freak. A defect. She probably carried those stolen silver chalices out of the kitchen just to get close to you. She’s a thief, not a spy!"

Killian didn't look at Tanya, but his jaw clenched. The distraction gave me exactly what I needed. I pulled back sharply, intentionally letting a sharp piece of the shattered glass on the floor dig into my bare knee.

Pain sliced through me, and a gasp escaped my lips.

The sudden scent of my fresh, iron-rich blood hit the air. Because of the serum, it didn't smell like a Lycan, but the sheer visceral reaction of seeing me bleed made Killian flinch. His grip on my wrist loosened just a fraction in surprise.

I tore my hand from his grasp, dropping back down to the marble floor, trembling violently as I buried my face in my hands. "Please, Alpha! I’m sorry about the dress! I’ll accept whatever punishment the Beta’s daughter demands, just please don't kill me!"

The high-ranking wolves in the crowd began to murmur, the tension shifting. To them, I looked like a pathetic, broken girl sobbing over spilled champagne and a cut knee. Killian stood tall, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over me. He stared down at his own palm, his fingers flexing as if he could still feel the phantom sparks of our touch.

His dark eyes searched my shivering form, deeply conflicted. He felt the mate pull, but his mind was telling him it was impossible for a broken Omega to be his match.

"Beta Vance," Killian called out, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade.

An older, scar-faced wolf stepped out from the shadows of the hall, bowing his head. "Yes, Alpha?"

"Lock her in the eastern holding cells," Killian commanded coldly, his eyes never leaving my face. "No food. No water. I will interrogate her myself at dawn. If she is a spy, she dies. If she is a thief, she will wish she were a spy."

Tanya smirked triumphantly, but I kept my face hidden, letting out a fake sob of terror. Inside, my mind was racing. The eastern cells were heavily guarded, but they were closer to the perimeter wall than the subterranean kitchens. If I could break out before dawn, I could escape into the Northern mountains.

Two brutal pack guards stepped forward, grabbing me roughly by my upper arms and dragging me backward across the marble floor. I let my feet drag, playing the victim perfectly until the heavy oak doors of the Grand Hall slammed shut behind us.

The guards shoved me down the dark, freezing stone corridors of the dungeon, laughing as they threw me into a damp cell and locked the heavy iron bars with a loud, echoing clang.

"Have fun waiting for the Alpha, freak," one of them sneered before they walked away, leaving me in pitch blackness.

The moment their footsteps faded, I stopped trembling.

I stood up, wiping the fake tears from my face, my eyes instantly adjusting to the dark. I looked down at my bleeding knee. The wound was already closing, my hidden Lycan healing factor working at an impossible speed. I needed to move fast. By dawn, the moon-root serum would completely wear off, and my true, golden Lycan scent would explode into the air. Killian would smell exactly what I was the second he stepped into the cell.

I moved to the back of the cell, checking the heavy iron bars of the small window that looked out into the stormy night.

Suddenly, a low, sinister chuckle echoed from the shadows of the adjacent cell.

"I wouldn't try escaping through there if I were you, little hybrid," a raspy voice whispered.

I froze, my blood turning to ice as a pair of glowing red eyes materialized in the darkness next to me. Someone knew what I was.