004

Caden's POV:

The man was still breathing when I dropped him. He should not have been. I had broken his ribs, his jaw, and most of the bones in his hands. I had thrown him through a wall and watched him crawl through the rubble, begging for mercy. I had given him none. But I had not killed him, at least not yet.

"Finish him off already and let us move on to the ceremony," Zephyr growled.

No. I said to him with finality.

"He killed two of our warriors."

I know that. I responded.

"Well, if you know that, then you should also know that he deserves death."

He deserves worse. But I will not give the curse what it wants.

Zephyr went silent, but I could feel his displeasure, a low rumble of frustration that vibrated through my chest. He did not argue. He knew better. But he did not agree either.

"Please," the man wheezed, blood bubbling at his lips. "Please, Alpha. I did not know. I did not know it was your territory."

"You should have asked."

"We were desperate. The rogues, they have no food, no shelter—"

"I do not care," I hissed, then crouched beside him, my hands covered in his blood, my chest heaving with the effort of holding Zephyr back. "Get him out of my sight," I ordered.

Two of my warriors dragged the man away, leaving me alone in the ruins of the abandoned warehouse. I stood there for a long moment, my hands shaking, my heart pounding, my mind a storm of darkness and rage.

I needed to calm down. I needed to breathe. So I closed my eyes and counted to ten, forcing the darkness back into the cage where it belonged. When I opened them again, I was in control for now because I had to be.

The auction was in an hour.

I did not want to go. I did not want to stand in a room full of simpering Alphas and criminals and pretend to be civilized. I did not want to bid on a woman like she was a piece of meat or a prostitute to pleasure me in bed.

But I needed an heir. I needed to break the curse before it consumed me whole.

The mansion was crowded when I arrived. Alphas and their entourages filled the foyer, all of them dressed in expensive suits and wearing fake smiles. They parted for me like the Red Sea, their eyes flickering with fear and respect.

I ignored them, making my way toward the back of the mansion, toward the private room where The Matron was waiting. I was halfway there when someone slammed into my chest hard.

I stumbled back, my hands flying up instinctively to catch the person before they fell. But they did not fall. They bounced off me like a rubber ball and stumbled backward, their head snapping up to look at me and then I saw her.

She was beautiful. Dark auburn hair, amber-gold eyes, heart-shaped face, small scar above her left eyebrow, lean athletic build, guarded expression, lips painted the color of blood. But it was not her beauty that stopped me cold. It was the look in her eyes. She looked broken, but not in the way that made people weak. In the way that made them dangerous. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were wet, and her hands were trembling. She looked like she had just survived something terrible, something that had stripped away every layer of protection she had built around herself.

And she was looking at me like I was the last person she wanted to see. Without a word she just stepped around me, her shoulder brushing my arm, and walked away.

A spark. A jolt of electricity that shot through my body like lightning within that second was like none I had ever felt before. Zephyr surged inside me, howling, clawing, fighting to break free.

"Mate."

The word echoed through my mind like a thunderclap.

No. That's not possible, Zephyr. It can't be. I shut him up immediately.

"Mate," Zephyr repeated. "Ours."

She is not ours. She is a stranger and I don't sense any wolf in her. How is that possible?

"Well that's unfortunate because whether you want that or not, she is our mate. I could feel it. You've been celibate for so long that you can vaguely distinguish between the two or maybe you're just not ready to accept the truth. You are scared."

Just shut the fuck up for a moment, Zephyr. I snapped at him, shoving Zephyr back down, forcing him into the darkness where he belonged. But I could still feel him, pacing, growling, demanding and being as annoying as always.

I stood there for a long moment, my heart pounding, my mind racing. Then I turned and followed her without a second thought in my head because I was curious. What was she?

She went into the restroom.

I waited outside, leaning against the wall, my arms crossed, my eyes fixed on the door. I told myself I was waiting, just curious. Because she had been rude. Because I deserved an apology from a woman who had run into me and then walked away like I was nothing.

"You are waiting because you want to see her again, aren't you?" Zephyr said.

Don't get it twisted. I am waiting because she was rude.

I heard the door open and she stepped out, her face freshly washed, her eyes still red but dry. She looked up and froze the moment she saw me.

For a second, she was short of words. Her lips parted, then closed, then parted again like she was trying to decide whether to speak or run. I watched the war play out on her face and found myself strangely entertained by it. Then she snapped back to reality, cleared her throat, and headed down the hallway like I was nothing more than a piece of furniture in her way.

That irritated me more than it should have.

"Hitting a man without apologizing is very disrespectful, young lady," I said, my voice a low rumble that echoed against the marble walls. "I can see you lack simple manners."

She stopped. I scoffed, exactly what I wanted.

I pushed off the wall and walked toward her, slow and deliberate, each step a quiet statement of intent. The hallway was empty save for the two of us, the distant murmur of the auction crowd fading into nothing. I stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could smell her, beneath that I caught the faint trace of lavender and rain that had haunted me since the moment she slammed into my chest.

Her fists balled at her sides.

She did not turn around. She just stood there, her back to me, her shoulders tight, her breathing controlled. I could see the tension in her spine, the way she was fighting the urge to spin around and give me a piece of her mind.

"You have a strange way of introducing yourself," she said finally, her voice flat. "Most people start with a name."

"Most people apologize when they run into someone."

"Most people mind their own business when a woman is clearly not interested in conversation."

"Because people are cowards. I am not one of them."

She turned then. Slowly. Her eyes met mine, and I felt the impact of her gaze like a physical blow. They were red-rimmed and weary, but beneath the exhaustion there was fire. A stubborn, defiant flame that refused to be extinguished.

"And what are you?" she asked. "A brave man?"

"No," I smirked, tilting my head. "I am just a man who knows better than to run into strangers and then walk away without a word. But clearly, you were raised in a barn."

Her eyes flashed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a low murmur. "You run into me, do not apologize, then walk away like I am nothing. That is not just rude. That is embarrassing. For you, I mean."

"I am not embarrassed."

"You should be. A woman with no manners is a woman with no value."

She balled her fists at her sides. "You know nothing about my value."

"I know you are here to sell yourself. That tells me everything I need to know."

Her jaw tightened. "And what about you? What are you here for? To buy a woman because you are too pathetic to find one who would have you willingly?"

I laughed. The sound was cold and sharp. "I do not need to find anyone. Women come to me."

"Clearly not the ones you want."

The words hit harder than they should have. I felt Zephyr stir, a low growl of approval.

"She has teeth," he said.

Shut up.

"You are angry," I said, stepping closer.

"I am not."

"You are. I can smell it on you."

Her eyes flashed. "You do not know anything about me."

"I know enough."

"You know nothing."

"I know you are here because you are desperate. I know you are selling your body because you have no other choice. I know you think this is the only way out."

She went still.

"I know," I continued, stepping closer, "because I have seen women like you before. Broken. Desperate. Willing to do anything for a few dollars."

"I am not broken."

"You are. I can see it in your eyes."

She stared at me, her jaw tight, her fists clenched. Then she shook her head and tried to step around me.

I blocked her path.

"Let me pass," she said.

"Not until you apologize."

"I will not apologize for something I did not do."

"Then we are at an impasse."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"I want to know your name."

"Why?"

"Because I am curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"And satisfaction brought it back."

She stared at me for a long moment. Then she shook her head.

"I do not have time for this."

She tried to push past me again, but this time, I caught her arm. The moment my skin touched hers, the spark returned, stronger than before. Zephyr howled, and I felt my control slipping.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I do not know."

I pulled her closer, my hand moving to her waist, my body pressing against hers. She gasped, her hands flying up to brace against my chest, and I felt her heart pounding against my palm.

The air between us changed. It grew heavy, thick with something I could not name. Her scent wrapped around me, lavender and rain and something warmer beneath, something that made my head spin. I could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her dress, could feel the way her breath hitched when my fingers tightened on her waist.

My eyes dropped to her lips. They were parted slightly, painted red, trembling. I wondered what they would taste like. I wondered what sounds she would make if I kissed her. I wondered if she would fight me or melt into me.

The pull was unbearable despite fighting against it. It was like a rope tied around my chest, dragging me toward her, demanding that I close the distance. Zephyr was roaring in my head, urging me forward.

I leaned down. Slowly. Deliberately. Giving her every chance to pull away.

She did not.

Her eyes fluttered closed. Her lips parted. I could feel her breath on my skin, warm and sweet, and I was so close, so impossibly close.

Her knee slammed into my groin.

The pain was instant and blinding. I doubled over, a groan tearing from my throat, and she shoved me away. I stumbled back, gasping, one hand braced against the wall, the other clutching my injured pride.

She did not wait a second before she ran away.

I watched her go, my vision blurry with pain, my chest heaving. She stopped at the end of the corridor and turned back. Our eyes met. Hers were blazing with fury and something else. Something that looked a lot like fear.

Then she raised her hand and gave me the middle finger.

And she was gone.

I stood there for a long moment, hunched over, my groin throbbing, my mind racing. But somehow, an amused smirk managed to slowly curl onto my lips.