Strip

“I... I’m not sure," Althea lied, cursing her voice for trembling.

His eyes narrowed as he moved closer, closing the gap gradually with slow, deliberate steps. She gulped nervously when he halted just inches away, close enough to feel his breath against her cheek.

“What a terrible liar,” he murmured.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. His scent of dark cedar, smoke, and something uniquely his was intoxicating and overwhelming. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she clenched her fists at her sides, trying to resist the strange, magnetic pull he had on her.

He reached up, and she instinctively flinched. But instead of hitting, he softly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb skimming her cheek's soft skin. She inhaled sharply as her skin tingled from his touch. His fingers stayed a moment longer, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

"You feel it, don’t you?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it rumbled through her like thunder.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she whispered, even as her heart hammered in her chest. ‘Is he referring to the mate pull? Could Melva be correct? But how could she feel it if she was wolfless?’

His gaze dropped to her lips, and for a moment, she was certain he was about to kiss her… but he didn’t. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, so she looked away.

Then, without warning, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look back at his intense and consuming stare. 

"But it doesn’t matter," he said coldly, pulling away. "Your father’s sins are yours to pay."

Althea’s knees went weak, but she forced herself to stand tall. "I’m not him," she weakly defended.

She loved her father, but she didn’t always agree with his actions. She attempted to intervene and reason with him, but it was hopeless. Once Alpha Cain fixed his gaze on something, no one could sway him. His ambition was overwhelming, driven by greed, as he pursued the throne. He aimed to crown himself Alpha King of the entire Werewolf Realm, regardless of the price.

"No," Gavriel said, his voice low. "But his blood runs in your veins."

"He leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking to her lips again before drifting away. Althea let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding."

"You were his most cherished daughter. He’ll come for you, especially once word spreads that you’ve become my breeder." His tone was lazy, almost mocking, as he moved toward his father’s old chair and comfortably sat into it.

"Serve me a drink," he ordered, eyes narrowing on her like a predator studying its prey.

Althea moved, her fingers trembling as she reached for one of her father's bottles. She poured the dark wine into a gold-rimmed goblet and approached him.

Her face was unreadable, but her eyes locked with his. She tried again to read his mind, to touch even the edge of a thought. But as always, there was nothing but a blank wall.

"You’re the first who doesn’t flinch when looking me in the eyes," Gavriel said, voice low and sharp like the draw of a blade. "Why is that?"

Althea held his stare, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

"Why should I flinch?" she asked softly, but firmly.

Gavriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t blink. "Because everyone does," he murmured. "Fear. Power. Take your pick."

She swallowed hard but didn’t look away. "Maybe I’m just too used to being afraid."

It wasn’t a lie. Fear had been her shadow all her life, haunting her, clinging like a second skin. She had seen the darkest corners of people’s minds, the cruel truths hidden behind polished smiles and noble names.

His eyes narrowed. "Or maybe you’re just too reckless."

"Or maybe..." she whispered, her voice trembling but unyielding, "I know what monsters look like. And you’re not the worst one I’ve seen."

It was true. She had looked into the minds of those worse than him. But with him, there was only silence. Maybe that’s what made him different. Maybe that’s why he didn’t frighten her the same way.

Yes, he was dangerous. Yes, he could crush her without lifting a finger. But there was something else beneath the fear, something she didn’t dare name yet.

Gavriel rose slowly, towering over her. "Careful, little wolf," he murmured, his voice barely above a growl. "You might make me curious."

Althea’s heart thundered in her chest, but she didn’t back away. Maybe curiosity was better than hatred? Maybe it was the only card she had left to play.

“Curious?” Althea scoffed. “I thought you already made up your mind about me. A traitor’s daughter. Your breeder. That’s all I am to you, right?”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but she needed to say them… needed to hear him say something more. Deep down, she wanted him to confirm if she was his fated mate, and whether he accepted it or not.

But this was Gavriel Kingsley… the Alpha King. The man who ruled without question, who refused a Luna, who never bowed to anyone.

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t push me. You won’t like how I push back.”

“You think I’m scared?” she snapped, her voice sharp, cutting through the heavy air between them. “You already own my life, remember? What more can you take?”

At the deafening silence that followed, she realized too late she’d crossed a line.

She should’ve stayed quiet, meek and small like she used to. That was how she survived for so long. Play harmless. Stay out of sight. Read minds to avoid danger before it touched her.

But now… she couldn’t read the Alpha King. And maybe that was why she was unravelling. Why was she daring to fight back?

His eyes were still on her like he was debating whether to silence her or devour her whole.

King Gavriel didn’t answer. Instead, he moved.

Before Althea could react, he grabbed her arm, not roughly, but firmly. She gasped, but the sound stuck in her throat as he lifted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

“Wha-! Put me down!” she shouted, pounding her fists against his back. “You barbarian! Where do you think you’re taking me?!”

He didn’t say a word. His steps were unhurried and measured, like he had all the time in the world. As if her struggling meant absolutely nothing. 

“Alpha King Gavriel!” she snapped, twisting in his hold. “You can’t just carry people off like sacks of grain!”

He didn’t stop until they reached her bedchamber. The doors creaked open and slammed shut behind him. Only then did he drop her onto the plush bed without a word. Althea let out a small yelp as she bounced, quickly scrambling upright. Her hair was a mess, and her chest rose and fell with each shaky breath.

“You-!”

Gavriel’s eyes darkened as he stepped closer to the bed. Althea stayed frozen, her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

“Strip,” he said, just like that. No hesitation, no softness… only a command wrapped in velvet steel.