The Alpha's Reluctant Temptation
“Pathetic.”
I pushed myself up, wiping muck from my cheek. “Listen here, Alpha Terminator, some of us don’t spend our entire lives bench-pressing wolves. Give me a second.”
He didn’t give me a second. He grabbed my wrist, yanked me upright, and spun me toward him with all the gentleness of a hurricane. His chest collided with mine, hard muscle against my soggy mess, and my breath caught.
“First rule,” he said, voice low, his breath warm despite the cold rain, “never let your opponent take control.”
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